Penny dreadful


i  supose  i dont need you to be a man in flesh and blood
or I, a woman … in spirit
or being human or not….

You could be a beast


your speech, the way you express yourself
is not
and you count on me
you count with the fierceness that i believe on you

that   complete all gaps..  all holes inside you
when you are alone

if you are real… if you are a  man…

But I…I am penny dreaful
and they talk and chant about me in the alleys
at the dawn
drunks …

sustained by the walls

and when they has fully exhausted all the bad options

they wait in a veiled dream
that redeem all of them
but not me…

I know….

Another night will come and
another sing they will chant
“Penny Dreadful that is what we want”

 i’ll succumb to the charm of their voices and depraved calling
So, i dont need you be a man in flesh and blood
perfect  and charming
just hear you
because sometimes i need to be rescued
not by a penny , not by affliction

but by a poem


Rage against the Night

Hello my friend
The title of this Poem  would be solely  Rage….

Thinking in Dylan Thomas…. Rage, Rage against the dying of the light

In my case…. against the night

People that are the night itself , that have no sun but darkness inside
dressing up themselves as the sweet dew at morning,,,,
For their entire life

That is primitive … always inside and never evolved…

Primitive to hurt, to discriminate, to shout out, to put their hands around the neck and finally kill someone…

or kill totally within….
To fright … Has something more painful than fright?

Do you know how is it?

An autumn leaf at your last days but raging against the fall…..
stirring up , arousing the courage to fall down

For  be kind or gentle has a massive price
Better kill, easy to kill
thinking that you are the truly tree and never the leaf….

But i am the rage itself
I am my words … that is mine and my only….

No one could claim for yourself what i originally write

or  what  derives from  my grief
Rage on hands and on fingers….
To cast out, to put a spell …  to revenge….
That is your Poetess …

being barbarian but in words and assuming
So bringing Dylan again….

Rage, Rage against the Night!!!!

For all my life…British_Night_Sky

Wind, Blow, Gail!

vento e solidão MMI tried to do the best! Hope you like this translation!

Wind, Blow, Gail!

I took part in a gale
the biggest of my life
strange atmospheric variation
coming so suddenly

What he did to me?
Ah! I remain with almost nothing

I say, that kind of wind,
start temperate
in the morning
kind a little cold a mist
a little tepid.
So smooth ~ not hear it ~

far in the day ~ it burns ~
whip more precisely

Night fall,
throw me to the ground

But, I, accustomed to the winds
and yours subtle moves
soon, felt on my chest
that i was adrift

Wind, blow, gale
comes sets from the north
bringing a restless and unexpected blow
a demanding heat!

cold and hot
goes, taking all around
hands and legs
making swirls

I had to ask to myself
Is it passed ? Completely?


has to resigned to the will
to such voracity

Taking all and nothing rest
prevails and dominates
in its short period of times

strange wind!
Impatient wind!

comes from another time
and play with us

A place to hide myself! day 16

i need a good place
could be anywhere
to hide myself

i dont know from who
but i have to run

something ugly, formless
i think can be the Boogeyman
return from my nights
wielding his sword !

Oh! Trying to keep me blind

He flies by air and use
fingers and claws

and before
He taste my blood
says:Image Hello, dud!~
suspiciously i answer to him
under his breath
Hello buddy!

But ( Shhhhhhhhh)

I need a good place
could be anywhere
to hide myself