Pictures on the Wall

Will you remember me when I'm gone?
I am the man who watched over you,
Stayed by your bedside singing a song
And never saw that your love was true.

Now, I know that I'm not on your mind.
The times has passed and you are gone.
I'll never understand why you left me behind,
But surely I'm just part of what went wrong.

The ghostly visions of you make me tremble
Like the images on the screen so noisy,
Something tells me I'm not on your photos,
The ones you collect so eager to handle
They're proof of how meaningless I am to you.


[in arroja, 26/20/2017]

Do you recognize my handwriting? Do you know its curves and swirls? Does my writing inspire you to create, to dream, to paint, to scream?

Each letter is drawn unconsciously: in my odd way of holding the pen, my thumb hugging it and the rugged feel resisting my grasp, I let the ink flow and suddenly - less than in a blink of the eye - the words are aligned with the atrophied thoughts that come down the brain through the arms and the veins, rushing ink elegantly on paper.

[in arroja, 26/20/2017]

Anatomy of Decay

The brain has mines taking the neurons place, my head has death taking the once black hair's place, my mind has jazz cymbals perforating the space between my ears.

My neck is filled with nodes strangulating me, my chest is a festering putrid place where my bronchi and lungs where replace by webs and the heart is no longer, my stomach is permanently on fire burning every emotion to ash, my womb is boiling with stillborn creations.

My arms are now similar to ropes that hold nothing, my hands are melted butterflies that won't fly anymore, my fingers just the bones that once held the tips of the angel's wings.

My legs are walking sticks of the oldest man on Earth, my feet are made of coal and their toes no longer touch the ground. 

You were everything to me, just like Spring is to flowers.

Did you read the poem that I never got to write you?

Swinging between everlasting dawns
and reminiscing about the lost sweetness of that one crystal dawn,
I hear the musics that you add each day to your playlist,
I've got no more inspiration to life than this.

As meaningless and pointless life is
As vacant my inside is
As empty...

Did you ever read the poem I never wrote you?

Fruit of the West and the East, nor white neither black skin, unrecognized, put down by both parts because I'm not one of each of them entirely; I'm just a mix of opposites that sum up to nothing. Belonging nowhere I am lost and not able to be placed. An eternal war internally and in the eyes of those struggling to see me, all the centuries of military generations contrasting with centuries of enslaved and peaceful meditative generations, my Western blood and my Eastern body, my golden skin that is no treasure and alien mind that is no leisure. 

The impossible coexistence of the halved being. 

In any day now you can find the turmoil on the busy streets filled with tourists in the industrious cities of humans consumed by a hurry of life; you can hear sound wings of seagulls and swallows, clothes flying on the lines, pigeons on balconies, but no more phrases launched with character from locals, no more chords from the Portuguese guitar, but you can count with the longing overflowing in your chest and always the river, always the river.

If they knew my woes, they wouldn't be my foes;
my everyday's battles announces by a snake's rattles;
because I'm like a man of war but with no conviction anymore;
and my weary spirit wanders through the dreams life tore.

 In the moments of each departure the ocean's rythm slows down, each wave in slow motion, like a gentle caress remembered eternally and a tale passed on around the bonfire. 

Sticks of potatos fried 

and ketchup on the side;

Countries' capitals 

and countries' currencies;

A last haircut with scissors 

Hiding vile eternal secrets.

On the shoreline she stood, 

As the waves broke on her chest

She didn't have any time to rest 

But the shiny sea made her look

There was a missile alert in Hawaii 

That turned out to be fake

And here there was rain and cold 

And a life it did forsake

Do you feel a tad broken, 

Do you feel completely shattered?