My Reptil Heart aches !

Am I changing?
Oh! MY!
I am a reptile heart again!

so dry and empty
aching inside
waiting the victim to love and misguide

My words are gone?
Really?
So… i think in how to tear you apart

my heart is hard and insensible?
OH! how do i’ll start?
to kill you first or taste you alive?

Hum! My tongue runs through my lips
and saliva droplets just fall

Just wait darling!

Am i living without a sligth wire of love?
Love , that thing that could makes me more human?

Love that could help me to write again?
With my human  hands back and all the rest?

Am I ?

How you dare!

my first bite will boot up your neck out
and i will lick slowly your blood
absorving your strenght and all your talent
inside your bloodly flesh

Because Green Eyes, after you
I am rythmn in decay

i am meaninglesreptile green eyes
and babbling senseless words
as the crazy women in an asylum

But i am changing my love
and a weak rain falls on me

silver rain at day, troubled waters at night
At Night! At the Bay!
Green Eyes !

As i promissed to my friend and writer The Lonely Author , here i am, Back! Thank you  for the support!

Poetheart

As He close The Door!

jokingshe silently walks with her bruises
Admirable … stroking them with slender fingers
as silk … embracing them … so fresh
sliding  hands into the greatest pain

Punishment!

It would be good to calm down the flesh
to give peace to something trembling … unfinished
delivering pain to restore another pain

In secret

she say  a pray, quietly
but naked soul …  fierce body
groping …  desperately seeking the rules
as in a theater … as a puppet

In loneliness

tears and bruises match with pain
just one more penitence to hold
viciously … searching for herself
as He Opens  the door again …

Pray!

One Noisy Poem to a painful heart

i slammed the door

fleeting for them

cleck cleck cleck

{{{bam}}} {{{ bam}}}}
one click…. a- Ha…

I sat on my delicious chair

tinny sounds

ding ding ding

to every move

i closed the book

buff….so soft…

And

The crowd runs to me again

vrummmmmmmmm
knocking knocking
toc toc toc…bum

I shouted
“Not Now”

my head aches

ouch!

what is that sound?
not a sound but a rhythm
a trumpet, a trumpet on my mind
ratata…ratata….the poet is angry

Oh My God… that hurts….

everything hurts

deep in the poet’s heart

Now I am angry

losing my temper

and start to speak with myself
bla bla bla bla bla
walking as a crazy
clack clack…clacking

thinking…..having great ideas

@#$#%%¨

i NEED SOME SILENT
I SHOUTED….please!!!!

just so i know
some moments in my life

when in pain….

they are a onomatopoeia

Knock, Knock, Knock….

knock, knock, knock
it is life again
do you feel this void inside?
maybe a fear?
something to do and you dont know How?
They call this reality sometimes life
that put you above the foam of oceans
just to push you back at the bottom
deep, deeply

you need air and use your strength to get it
and it is too much effort
in a brief moment you are ~done~
Oops…again at the topSwallow Ocean
so, so careless with us
I am a little tired of being thrown

from a side to another
thinking in How to fix it
But i cant…we cant
It is Life…They say….

Knock, knock, Knock

Wait ~just a moment~ I have to…

Catch my Breath first….

 

The Witness

 

give me a little of bright light
a subtle shadow from your curves
did i mention the eyes? They are mine
despite the good and evil that i sawwitness
my gift to see through all  human’s souls
and that sustain  all my affliction
i need to    demand to you again
Give me your shadows and curves
to soothe my soul and drain my addiction
because i have to see….that is all that i know
but is  not my choice to reveal
My eyes and heart frozen
in a flash  ~so many times~
 muscles sore in   pain’s nights
alone and witness from other’s  fret
I  need a love to redeem
my eyes ~for  what they saw~
my heart ~ by the constantly disordered  beats~
as  you bless me and i stop ~here~ just to see you

 

The woman from the cold wind

 

blues eyes, green eyes
have so long that a cold wind frozen your face and closed your smiles

that i cant recognize you anymore

wide lips , wide laughs and sonorous

have so long you do not lose yourself~ away~
~like always we did ~remember?

 i cant hear you anymore

but i understand …

was something keen~ pointed~

snowy your soul ~white white ~

~inverno Janeso much pain in that color ~

 blowed and taking you along and alone

~petrifying you with all yours virtues~

inside….
Oh!

and i , here, so lonely wondering….

where is the  hybrid  eyes~ the lips  and the laughs~

when the time changed and ask for….

Oh! You are the same You know?

Was just a frozen cold wind that passed by there…..

a winter in your soul

but finally

 blue and green eyes unfrozen again ….

To my Friend Jane Freitag Braun.

The three Marys

The three Marys

Macelamade a flowers bed
from macela that is the flower’s name

such perfume…..such calm…
coming from straw of once was a bud

~dust of the scent~

to rest the three and to Love too
they lay overcome by hope fatigue

ensuring
that always would be some Mary

~to care~
the macela Bed

Flowers and tiredness

But…once..just once time
one of them sleeps ~ in secret~

on that hill of softness
with a man with a manhood

the second cradles her dreams
at her porch

the third was still catching….in the fields
no knowing nothing

and lands dreams again gives a warm lap
we are in earth..
whispered the wind….shhhhhhhhh

Who deserve the love of that only man?

The Mary that plant, the one that is waiting or the one who makes love…..

Author Notes

Field Macela is a plant that heals and soothes… widely used in pillows and mattresses here on Brazil.