Monday, 6 December 2010

The Scientist by Coldplay

Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry
You don't know how lovely you are.
I had to find you, tell you I need you,
Tell you I set you apart.

Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions,
Oh lets go back to the start.
Running in circles, Comin' in tails
Heads on a science apart.

Nobody said it was easy,
It's such a shame for us to part.
Nobody said it was easy,
No one ever said it would be this hard.

Oh take me back to the start.

I was just guessin' at numbers and figures,
Pulling the puzzles apart.
Questions of science, science and progress
Do not speak as loud as my heart.

And tell me you love me, come back and haunt me
Oh and I rush to the start.
Runnin' in circles, Chasin' tails
Comin' back as we are

Nobody said it was easy,
Oh it's such a shame for us to part.
Nobody said it was easy,
No one ever said it would be so hard.

I'm goin' back to the start.

Ohhhh oooooo
Ahhhh oooooo
Ohhhh oooooo
Ohhhh oooooo

Saturday, 13 November 2010

Lilacs and daisies

The notebook of life is near the end
and still I bleed, everyday, a little
just to know that I'm alive.
A random collection of feelings,
a rainbow entwined in dark clouds,
the lilac memories of my sorrows
punctuated by yellow daisies,
getting all together for the final festival.

Old people will always be old
as young will always stay young,
that is the power of memories
when they fade into black & white.
Friends and family that become photos,
washed out by the hasty river of time.
Then nothing remains, only void lingers.

Tuesday, 9 November 2010

the cinematic orchestra - to build a home

There is a house built out of stone
Wooden floors, walls and window sills...
Tables and chairs worn by all of the dust...
This is a place where I don't feel alone
This is a place where I feel at home...

Cause, I built a home
for you
for me

Until it disappeared
from me
from you

And now, it's time to leave and turn to dust...

Out in the garden where we planted the seeds
There is a tree as old as me
Branches were sewn by the color of green
Ground had arose and passed it's knees

By the cracks of the skin I climbed to the top
I climbed the tree to see the world
When the gusts came around to blow me down
I held on as tightly as you held onto me
I held on as tightly as you held onto me......

Cause, I built a home
for you
for me

Until it disappeared
from me
from you

And now, it's time to leave and turn to dust....

Tuesday, 2 November 2010

Dying slowly

The World has lost its grace,
everything is seen and discovered,
imagination has been turned into boredom
and everyone's thinking of another.

We force ourselves to please others
our whole lives complex as a relish
and dying slowly is what you do
because they would perish
if you decided for shooting yourself.

The bittersweetness of life
is the same as the bittersweetness of death,
and the branches of the trees that waver
resemble an arm saying goodbye to a wife
when she knows they haven't actually met.

It is the daunting feeling that surprises you
and fills you with doubt in your mind,
no one will ever try to find
the person you really are inside.

So nevermind the truth and nevermind it all,
just turn yourself mute
and join everyone else in the same fall.
Because sometimes, even knowing it's all vain
and we're always on the deadline's edge,
it takes a long time to end
and then there won't be even one friend.

Friday, 29 October 2010

Dying young

I have died a long time ago.
As the young boy whose body laid on the dirt,
face bloodied and no breath to register.
Understand, I've died too soon, I had to.
The metal shining with my identification
didn't attract me anymore.
When we trust and then we are left behind,
a big part within us dies.
I gave up on the world when the world gave me up.
I know you'll miss me, but you'll carry on.
I know I miss you and I'll always be alone.

Tuesday, 19 October 2010

The injustice

I'm not a joyful man,
not even when the sun is shining,
there is no biological trait in me
of being smiling on the outside
or even psychologically trying
to get me to smile on the inside.

The injustice of the righteous man,
I bare inside me like a hidden fate
and sooner or later everyone will know
I'm not their man to envy or hate.

I'd like to think that something of useful,
of good or seizable will come of this,
but I'm afraid I'm just fooling myself,
leading me to believe in the power of thoughts.

As the Universe unveiled, so did injustice,
for everything became relative and nothing granted.
There's a mixture of sadness and conformity,
just sleeping in the eyes of the men like me,
because we can't hide the secret
of never finding the shade under any tree.

Thursday, 14 October 2010

Why the heck do you still show up, in my dreams?

Do we have unfinished business?
Does your mind still crosses my heart?
Or are you linked to mine in some way?
We could remain friends, but I have a problem: I can't trust you.
Is that a friendship worth giving a shot?
My confusion relays on not having much answers too.
I guess I'll keep on my individual rambling and carry on as I can.
That's not much and I can't really control my sub-conscience:
bloody lack of sleep every night, because I don't sleep, I dream.

I'm very tired, I've been like this for many years but didn't acknowledge.
The same thing happens with everything else that I don't acknowledge:
it all comes around in my mind at dawn while I should be sleeping;
dreams and nightmares where he doesn't appear anymore running towards me,
small, as when I last saw him, arms wide open,
but you instead, troubling me so much, leaving me with a strange feeling inside.

What are you to me? What do you really feel? Are you really able to be my friend
or is it just something you say out to the wind as so many words before?

I don't even know if I could use a friend right now...
and I haven't been this confused for a long time.
Yes, time, time will be the one to answer to it all.
And I'm betting it will be an empty answer too.
Maybe I'm just being unfair, maybe you've tried to make it right,
maybe just like in the dream you wrote me lots of letters unsent,
and maybe it's just what I wanted to believe,
that being like that there could actually be a redemption for us,
showing that our friendship existed and was worth saving.

When I left I had the feeling you were ready to carry on,
that I had given you the strength and support you needed to rise
and that without me near you could forget about your biggest errors
and start again; without having to face the Past all the time
I thought maybe you could forgive yourself and move on.
Of course I made it with so much sacrifice,
as I was used to, since the time of «love me without me, as I do you without you».

I was told by someone else that you were just fine, in a new life
and that you all didn't get my correspondence,
didn't even remember me at all
and that I should let you be and not contact you again
because I was making a fool of myself,
and that it was you who gave her my number to call,
that you knew she was going to tell me those things.
That was quite awful and disappointing to listen to,
(except to know you were fine and carrying it on)
it was the second time our relationship had been betrayed,
exposed to someone else who had nothing to do with it,
and that was what made me end it all.

Thursday, 7 October 2010


Gently departs into the darkness,
the weary heart of the child
that doesn't get to see the madness
of the one's she is leaving behind.

There is no rage or despair,
no sorrow or fear,
any feeling to be compared
not even one shed tear.

The Universe is indifferent to everything,
it will still exist no matter what,
sometimes there can be something
but it's never enough to fill the slot.

Thursday, 30 September 2010

deceitful appearances

I am the surfer who loves nature and rides the waves like it was the last thing that he's doing.

I am the writer that loves everything and everyone and doesn't leave his gloomy room, always writing novels, short tales and poems, trying to achieve something that he himself doesn't know, and never does.

I am the young woman who is always out, having fun and taking pleasure out of life of every ray of sun and moonlight.

I am the architect of those beautiful and celebrated building that you see every day in the horizon.

I am the career-oriented person who achieves all the wealth I wanted and recognition  from my colleagues.

I am the beloved housewife that feels that she's the luckiest woman on Earth for having her beautiful and united family.

I am the street artist who is happy with his freedom and roams around the world painting society on their city walls.

I am all these Men and many more, but I don't appear to be.

And our lives are nothing but our deceitful appearances.

Wednesday, 22 September 2010

The Philosopher

How I want to be remembered? As a poet and a thinker!
But... I can foresee that there are some things that might make it harder to happen. 
Even if in ten years from now, women have bigger roles in modern societies, I have my doubts concerning the way they will still be viewed by the general people.

Well, you see, the problem is that I am a woman who has spent her entire life observing and thinking, this in a world where it is assumed that women don't think and that instead they talk too much. 
Hmm, I've always believed that communication is the key for everything, to achieve harmony, as Heidegger's and others' philosophies meant it too... well, it didn't take him far I see, and as for the world... I might even risk to say it reached an "over flooded" situation, without even having anything to do with the glaciers defrosting.

How did we get to this point, in which people don't look at each others' faces no more, nor do they know the importance of a simple embrace?
It's all so sad, probably even more just because I am a poet and a thinker. Most of times I think I am unfit; my tormented mind reminds me of a different era, of Poe and Pessoa, where it could make a difference or at least to myself. But then again, in the end of the 19th century and early 20th, women hadn't much power of voice either. Even so, it seems to me, it should be much better than this apathy and indifference. 

Monday, 20 September 2010

à propos du "Eat, Pray, Love"

Many people try to find themselves.
Throughout their lives they struggle
from time to time
to make something meaningful
with the time they have.

I can't tell for sure if there are more women
or men, living this subtle torment,
but I see that everyone without exception
has forgotten to look in each others' eyes.

For everyone is so sure that within is the answer
and everyone is too busy
to risk on making the correct question,
this is such that the result is only one:
we don't ever find who we really are.

Tuesday, 14 September 2010

You lick my wounds

one   at   a   time

some are fluffy scars
and others are dried up crusts
that scratch your tongue.

There are other wounds
that you can't see
even though
they're the ones that bleed wide open.

Wednesday, 28 July 2010


I lost a friend
and many others before
I lost a friend
and there was joy no more.

What is a friend anyway?
Someone we miss when gone
or who likes you either way
even if you got a greener lawn?

I don't know, never could say,
but I hope one day I'll find
someone who can clear my mind.

Monday, 14 June 2010

True Love

In Love there is no shadow of doubt
no conflicts or desdain
for it is the most pure form of understanding
when true love equals sincere commitment.

This noble feeling that fulfills
is the liquid most solid in one's veins
being pumped by the heart
it is unconditional as the sky.

The bluest of the seas and heavens
sprinkled with the dusty white
of the foam and the clouds
can't attain Love's whole beauty.

Always in true Love we trust,
because when everything else fails
and the most solid buildings collapse
this wholesome feeling still remains.

It is body and soul and spirit,
all things visible and invisible,
yet the path to acknowledge it is harsh
I'm hoping everyone gets to make it.

Sunday, 30 May 2010

Man, the easy rider.

I'm no easy rider,
I've come a long way
to reach nowhere
stuck in a short sway.

My body is the empty shell
that is cracked beneath
everyone's earthy feet
and dissolved in the sea.

We're all criminals of nature
evolved to display the evil
that was nurtured by crazies
many ages ago.

The sands of memory
are nothing but dust
and their remembrance
is always a must.

Nowadays we roam the land
and hope to see it greener
somehow we give a hand
in making it more ill
and all without seeing her.

Wednesday, 19 May 2010


We are all infected with the human virus.
It starts by making us love unconditionally
until it makes us fall in disappointment.
Then we experience the bitterness and learn that,
we too, can harm others on purpose.
And it happens cyclically,
throughout the Ages,
as long as humanity persists:
they come, they fight, they destroy.

Friday, 30 April 2010

Forever and ever together

In the weary muscles of your arm,
there my head lays
where it can reach me no harm
that's what my heart says.

I would trade everything for you,
so you wouldn't ever have to die
I would give my life for yours
between us there is no lie.

My heavy heart is in anguish
with so much fear of losing you
before we can get together forever.

I hope we don't feel it vanish
while our love is still true
I can't say goodbye to you ever.

Wednesday, 28 April 2010


I want to stay in your body
as a tattoo to remind you
of who we are
and give you strength
to carry on
with who you want to be.

And to perpetuate myself
as your slave
that you try to drag and push and pull
but I remain in your maze.

Playing on your back
as a swirling ballerina
that kind of gets you high,
or a dolphin or a boat,
an anchor in your marina,
or maybe I'll just be the cross,
heavy to bare on your feet,
that carves your meat,
deep inside, as your boss.

In the end, I'll be the scars,
that scribble your body
and remain behind bars,
while you go out with some hottie
and I weigh in your arms and back and forth
but you don't feel them.

Wednesday, 21 April 2010

Home is where the heart is.

Why do you all go precisely to the places where temptation to fall is custom-made for you?

The first times seem like heaven, a bliss to forget all your past and memories, pretend you're someone else, starting all over.

But soon enough you won't be able to continue, to linger sustaining your false new world.

I'm always the one holding the camera, I'm always the one who takes your picture.

Thoughts and memories that you forgot for some time, come to chase you again in the blink of the night.

He who has skeletons in the closet, is just like a snail, can't run away fast enough to forget them because they're all making weight on your back and leaving behind a track of who you really are.

How can you go away, far away, from where the confort of love and protection is? If you have them, why try to get them somewhere else? Will you grow in the jump that you make into the world? I hope you do.

Tuesday, 13 April 2010

Grudge by Alanis Morissette

Fourteen years
Thirty minutes
Fifteen seconds I've
Held this grudge

Eleven songs
Four full journals
Thoughts of punishment
I've expended

Not in contact
Not a letter
Such communication
You've been vilified
Used as fodder
You deserve a piece
Of every record

But who's it hurting now?
Who's the one that's stuck?
Who's it torturing now
With an antique knot in her stomach?

I want to be big and let go
Of this grudge that's grown old
All this time I've not known
How to rest this bygone
I wanna be soft and resolved
Clean of slate and released
I wanna forgive for the both of us

Like an abandoned house
Dusty covered
Still intact
If I visit it now
Will I simply re-live it
Somehow gratuitous

But who's still aching now?
Who's tired of her own voice?
Who is it weighing down
With no gift from time of said healing

I want to be big and let go
Of this grudge that's grown old
All this time I've not known
How to rest this bygone
I wanna be soft and resolved
Clean of slate and released
I wanna forgive for the both of us

Maybe as I cut the cord
Veils will lift from my eyes
Maybe as I lay this to rest
Dead weight off my shoulders will rise

Here I sit
Much determined
Ever ill-equipped
To draw this curtain
How this has entertained
And has served me well
Ever the victim

But who's done whining now?
Who's ready to put down
This load I've carried longer than I had cared to remember

I want to be big and let go
Of this grudge that's grown old
For the life of me I've not known
How to rest this bygone
I wanna be soft and resolved
Clean of slate and released
I wanna forgive for the both of us.

Tuesday, 6 April 2010


I have missed you all these years
but I couldn't tell you
I have loved and suffered for you
but I couldn't scream it out.
You had asked me to love you without you
as you loved me without me.
It sounds easy, carries no worries
but it's all a lie, as we make up stories
to prevent us from crashing, and die.

Lost and unforgiven we roam the Earth;
our love is a vivid memory, past,
but carved in a stone.
There is no chance for us,
though we'll always be together in a beach
walking on the sand,
we won't ever be each other again.
I remember you now & then
and I miss the times
when we could call each other "Friend".

Saturday, 3 April 2010

everybody thinks I'm strange

I wake up late in the afternoon
and everybody thinks I'm strange
I know my head is on the moon
and I'm always in a circle of change.

Sometimes I speak my mind
but that's really quite rare
because I notice what others find
in who they might think I am.

You might say I don't like people
but that is not quite the truth
just because I'm stuck in my room
lying doesn't make it more smooth.

Everybody thinks I act weird enough
to fill the criteria of mental craziness
I guess no one bothers to know me well
before they send me straight to hell.

Tuesday, 30 March 2010

Dying slowly by Tindersticks

I've got memories
I keep them away from me
They won't behave
Won't be what I want them to be

I've seen it all and it's all done
I've been with everyone and no one

So many squandered moments
So much wasted time
So busy chasing dreams
I left myself behind

I've seen it all and it's all done
I've been with everyone and no one

So this dying slowly
It seemed better than shooting myself
This dying slowly
It seemed better than shooting myself

These worms, darling
They're nibbling away at me
They go at it when I'm sleeping
Won't let me get to my feet

I've seen it all and it's all done
I've been with everyone and no one

So this dying slowly
It seemed better than shooting myself
This dying slowly
It seemed better than shooting -
If I could find the words to explain this feeling
I would shout them out
If I could find out all this, what's inside me

I would shout it out

So this dying slowly
It seemed better than shooting myself
This dying slowly
It seemed better than shouting it out

I make some coffee
Pull on that new pair of pants
I can get so far off
The feeling just falls away

I've seen it all and it's all done
I've been with everyone and no one

I'm just tired, baby
I just need to lay down
I'm just tired, darling
I just need to lay down
I'm just tired, baby
I just need to lay down
I'm just tired, darling
I just need to lay down
I'm just tired, darling

Monday, 29 March 2010

The flickering candle

Daunts me to know there is no peace
while that cinnamon candle is lit,
the startle it provokes on weary hearts
isn't compared to the freight on weak minds.

For many centuries it is told
that the flickering candle is as it stands
whereas all men have grown old
never the candle lost its flaming hands.

Seconds go by between its shivers
and everyone thinks it's its last goodbye
but everyone is wrong and in quivers
because the candle lingers on and on
and no one seems to know why.

All the people who tried to blow it away
even brought auxiliary tools to get it done,
but as their lives strangely started to decay,
they gave up; it's impossible to shut down the Sun.

Thursday, 25 March 2010

good friends, really??

how can you be a friend, a good friend, if you're gone, far, to another country, to another whole existential world?

how can I expect you to be one, when you denied me from that for more than a decade?

in the start of it all: since you've let me down, your whole figure has been surrounded in a halo of panic for me. you've become the boy who pushed me in the swing and told me to jump that you'd catch me, but you didn't, you didn't even try, just walked away and never looked behind. how can you meet someone and after three days swear to her that you won't kiss me, that you won't hug me or even lay beside me?
how could you let go of everything so magic, our symbols, our depth? and like magic it didn't exist. not for you anyhow.

my mistake was to care and to worry about you too much, and letting myself being fooled by you, not only once. just as you wanted, you killed me once and killed me again.
and yet, I guess the second time was more my fault for wanting to put things straight, to put everything to rest. of all men you were the only one that both of us failed to keep the friendship, probably because you weren't ever able to be my friend, always so selfish dwelling on fake pains. nine years ago someone told me you would only gain reason when on the age of thirties... I guess it was right on. I've registered everything and carried on just like every person must do. the only difference is that I have nothing to carry on with.

a broken and abandoned heart is the most inspiring thing for a poet. the most deadly too.

how can you say you don't want to awake old pains, when all your indifference has made me exercise them all, on a daily basis, freezing my whole f*cking life and who I used to be, during for at least 8 years. for you, it might be the past, but thanks to you and your lovely f*cking ex-wives, who insisted on contacting me just to remind me of those same aching pains, I have loads of disappointment and humiliation to last for more three or four lives. at least, I got to know that I was probably the only one of all your friends, who actually had a notion of who you truly were, so incomplete, so much raw beauty to be ever attained. I was forced to know actually, been informed without asking, by, again, your marvellous ex-wives, complaining, saying you don't speak with them much... the irony... so I don't know if it was because of me knowing well to see how people are, or just because of you, opening up to me and being your true self, talking to me more than to all others, especially when there was only you and me and no one else.

well, I've been changing a lot, and I'm no longer loving people and caring about them. nowadays and for quite a while now, I have nothing to offer to anyone. all I wanted was for you to be ok; since the beginning of this stupid sense of saving you, because you told you needed rescue, and I never left you high and dry like other people did. you took away my dreamy soul, my notion that I too could have a family, be part of one, being cared and loved by people in a family, have them proud of me. you've just made a good use of me and refused to be there for me when I was in dire straits, much more dangerous than you. Since I met you, I was hungry and cold and about to die more than twice and you were never there. you were the worst of friends and you've never made an effort to compensate it. in fact I think you should live at least more three times to make it back to me, on a daily basis. because you've insulted me, not only when your two ex-wives called me, but in other things I rather not talk about here, and you're probably not even aware of them. what separates us is not only my, obviously, natural growth as a human being that has always been more fast than yours, but so many other stuff you don't even know yet. it's not the same movie and music mind that would link us, because that's not strong enough; our actions are louder than our minds.

yes, I was once held by you as young and innocent, and you were simply immature and stupid. the damage is such, so very deep in who I was and became, that time past hasn't mend it all, especially because if you relive it everyday it doesn't pass at all, it's just a memory around the corner, just one frustration away, to remind me that I don't deserve nothing and that that's all I'll ever have, whereas this big hole that was carved by your reckless self in the self-esteem of a young and dreamy girl.

still, because I'm not a horrid person, and because I only wanted to make sure everything was ok for you when we parted, I was glad to know you're more aware of things and having a great life though I'm not. there were times back then, when I thought I had a mission of some sort in your life, helping to make it better. some years ago, I was glad my mission was over. to love and care for someone is not the same as being in love, but I guess that was just something, in the midst of other stuff, that you never got it straight. as I said before, my mistake was to care, since your first line written asking for help, and the worst now is to realize that all these years the lines you wrote, namely the songs' lyrics, you wrote the same not only for me but for others too. made me sick once to know you've alienated what we had by exposing it to someone so awful and makes me sick now to know, that just like a fraud, you always used the same victim speech to draw people.
nowadays, I'm not the lost and hurt person I used to be. I feel nothing and I'm expecting the end peacefully. there's no hope for people, in the end we all die guilty. and I want to stop repeating myself, because it's all over and nothing has to do with me anymore, no more people, no more life, nothing.

(um desabafo que eu precisava de fazer, acho/just a confidence I needed to make, I guess)

P.S.: (on 28th March) I'm glad that you've finally gained conscience and also that you're having a good life now. I guess I kind of forgave you a long time ago, in the ways that were possible, the only problem was to forget the traumatizing events that you caused along the way and everything I lost because of them, and that were so unnecessary. It's a pity.

Thursday, 18 March 2010

To kill or not to kill? That was never the question!

I came across a mighty paradox
just because I saw a movie* about the holocaust,
nevertheless, as it was based in reality
it made me sympathetic with the jews pity.

It is acceptable to kill in order to prevent an epidemy,
is it viable to exterminate when there is a plague?
When the word morality becomes so vague
I think it's only because it's flooded by stupidity.

And as the world assisted to its demise
I don't see humanity growing wise
but instead there's just too much darkness.

We all know people are capable of so much harm
although no one ever admitted its starkness 
and meanwhile so does blindness swarm.

 * The movie is Conspiracy (1999)

Wednesday, 10 March 2010

"There is no Race, no Religion, no Class System, no Color, no Sexual Orientation, or nothing, that makes us better than anyone else; we're all deserving of Love" - Sandra Bullock

Tuesday, 9 March 2010

The torture of disappointment

How much disappointment can one sustain, until the burst into a bitterness too great to be extinguished?
I don't know. I just wanted not to become a bitter person, like the women that complain everyday about everything and blame their kin for all of bad that happens.

But I've realized everyone is tortured somehow, throughout their lives. Once, and then again, a drop of blood, just to remind them they're alive.

It's normal to initially expect things from life and as we stroll along its strange paths, we experience that the reality of things isn't quite what we expected and even made an effort for. That's where disappointment comes in. In fact, it crawls in, not announcing its presence, and simply amounting itself inside our hopeful and fragile human hearts. And each time it does, it's like a whiplash in our souls. Soon it becomes like a cat o'nine tails in our back, flogging us without any mercy. And yet, we do not learn how to not expect anything, not desire anything better, not dream or hope for anything else.
There's even the prejudice that being pessimist or too down to earth is bad, and that no matter what, you have to think positive: "smile to life, so that life smiles you back". All this hurts even more, especially when you are not aloud to be sad, to be in woe and everyone just wants to force you to put on a advertisement smile.

Corrupts my loins, making me sick, to hear all this. What the hell does anyone know about someone else's tortured soul?

Thursday, 4 March 2010

So much noise that I can't listen to what's important.

Everyday, I hear people shout at each other:
husbands and wives, sons and parents.
I don't hear the soft moaning of love,
or the tender strokes of caresses, though.
It's quite sad to live in a world filled with noises
from horrid events, like car crashes and fighting,
the sirens of ambulances and the rumbling of buildings,
all these noises making our atmosphere so polluted.

By the end of each day, in my room, as it gets colder,
I hear everything surrounding me, outside, even far.
An acoustic show of splashes of the building's door banging,
the knocks on the floor from the heels of the ladies,
a bit before they get to exit and even after, on the sidewalk.
There's a stream flowing, of buses and subways
and everywhere the peoples' rushes and the cars in the highway.
This river bursting of life is nothing but the dead remains
of everything that was once right.
And another intermittent noise, crawls inside the walls,
sometimes like sand that falls
and other times just water storming through pipes.

Everyday, I have to chase the noise away, but it's hard to do it,
when you're not putting cotton balls in your ears
and just trying to control your rage and fears.
Yes, because, everyday I'm afraid that the noise of the people
will transform itself into a lost bullet or a flying stone,
or the stormy water pipes will reveal themselves into earthquakes
and the building of 13 stages where I live in, on the ground floor,
will collapse on top of me.
Some people might realize I'm paranoid and I do it for a living.
I guess I'm just a person looking for answers in a World that only provides questions...

Thursday, 25 February 2010

There's nothing of small in Love.
He who waits for the big moments to show his Love, doesn't know how to love.

Painting: "Love" by Gustav Klimt

Wednesday, 24 February 2010

Mother Nature

They say Nature is good for you,
that it provides what you need,
well I don't remember needing deadlines,
not only to die but also to live.

You're pressured by Nature
just like your own mother
it wants you to develop fast
for you not be surpassed by another.

Nature has got you stuck ,
between the various periods of aging,
and in the midst if you get any luck,
maybe, you'll get time for relaxating.

Nature wants you to get well fed
and it needs you to grow back
whatever you took to your bed
you just can't leave it to lack.

As my own mother, Nature has me
down on my knees and begging
crying for being battered
with my whole life shattered.

I've learned to put on clothes
as layers of defense
against all the cold
and the sun when too bold.

I've learned to build contraptions
to control and manipulate Nature,
I'm quite aware of all my actions,
seems I was made to hate her.

Tempests and deserts may arise
but I know my heart belongs to Nature
and that deep inside we all disguise
that she and us are here to forever dure.

Saturday, 20 February 2010

I guess for me being a nihilist it's  just a way to say "f*ck all"!

Tuesday, 16 February 2010


How can she feed me and kill me at the same time?
It's her venom love, I tell you:
behind her eyes lays indifference
and behind her hands her inexistence.

Cross my lips and hope she dies
if I ever get for my questions any replies.

How could she feed me
and then
fuck me from behind?
The traitor abandons the corpse,
the sheets go blind
and love is no more.

I still ask myself how could she
feed me and destroy me at the same time?
How could I not see
and thought I was doing fine.

We never know the reality of a person,
what's truly in her mind,
I guess she fed me and killed me
just because I'd leave her behind.

I'll never know, she won't either.

Wednesday, 10 February 2010


I met her when she was much of a woman-child.
In her eyes I could see the eagerness of a newborn, wanting to feed from the world as there was no tomorrow. Soon enough I've learned she was capable of so much humanity as an orphan, and her hair, when struck by light or the wind, was the proof that God existed in each living being.

Once, I showed her the sea, and she just stood by the shore, sinking her bare feet in the sand, revolving them like in a sexy twisted veil dance. I remember as if it was today, that I kneeled down and held her foot, brought it close to me, to my chest, took off the sand of her feet and kissed them lightly. She told me she would never forget that moment, that no one had ever kissed her feet before.

There this other time, before, when she asked me to take her to a high place and when I took her to a high mount near a place called strangely the Blue Lagoon, once we climb it, I could hear her open her nostrils and absorb the surrounding wind. Next, everything stood still: all the forests at sight, filled with solitary pines and eucalyptus just stopped as to listen to the words she pronounced next, "We are gods standing in our thrones and watching the small men below."
She asked me if I believed in her, and I said, without hesitating, "Of course".

Today when I think about it, I believe she was a kind of a goddess, just passing some time among us, ordinary men. The way time stopped and went back and forth and never happened at all, because of her voice; everything grown, everything shrunken, by her hands, and all was like a dream-life just for her hair and her feet. She was the wonderland I never knew. And her lips were sealed and yet they've chanted a thousand hymns of joy. Alice was my prize on earth, an angel sent to erase my sorrows and give me better tomorrows. Now, I miss her so.
Our wonderful and wicked Love perishes at the hands of life and death.

But thy Love shall never end and my love shall never die: for we do not know how life will be and we do not know how death will rise, but we know we have our Love, forever yours and forever mine.

Tuesday, 2 February 2010

no title

Today the sky felt your absence,
it turned grey and almost felt like crying
wet pieces of sadness,
tears for a joy that was missed.

Today woke up without the sun
or the streaking sounds of birds laughing.

It was a break of dawn to remember,
for as long as there is a cloud in the sky
there's always a chance that it will rain
and the possibilities that come along
are so infinite that we hope that all fears,
all shadows and mists will be washed away.

Today was the day our hearts colided,
causing an invisible storm of sorrow,
sprinkled with rays of lust and desire.

And who knows if tomorrow the sky will be the same?

Friday, 29 January 2010

The Blueberries Lament

I would yield you my whole heart
but unfortunately there was someone
before you
who tore it apart.

Through the neon lights
and smoke signs
I could see you
shining at me
with the vivid colors of dawn.

Pressed between my lips
were just three words
dying to be heard by you
in the mess of that red bar.

Now the foggy memories
come to me one by one
as I take a drink and then another
just to forget how many they are.

Lean on me, don't be scared,
I'm actually always here for you
and whenever you're not there
I'll just have a drink for you.

You came closer and I was in the sky,
drawn to you as a ray of light,
we could never be apart
since I saw you in that bar.

Drinking the woe away
now I realize you are here to stay
and suddenly I remember no more
the pain that knocked once at my door.

Thursday, 21 January 2010


Went for a stroll on the park,
saw old people sitting on the benches,
as the young ones were playing on the grass
with the dogs excited and free to bark.

Reached the water line at the large pond,
and reflected in the starry mirror there were
the memories that are now so fond to me.

In the everlasting garnished thought,
saw the lines on the faces of the old people
showing off serenity in the water,
and the sparkling laughters of the young ones
just playing on that same pond.

As I walked underneath the trees,
with birds announcing warmer days,
I remembered what the sky says
in those times that the shy sun appears.

He whispers that there's always beauty
to be seen in the eyes of the beholder
for whenever it gets darker
the flowers will always be pretty
even if it gets colder.

Saturday, 16 January 2010


In times of diamonds and pearls
I found myself stuck in a little jewellery box.
Shattered to pieces, and once in that way divided,
there's nothing left to subtract.

Shiny dust sprinkled on the other fake jewels,
as they gossip and stare, pointing me
with their viperous tongues.

I used to shine so bright, like a star;
they were always jealous of me,
and now, I still shine, but into pieces.

So small are the pieces, so free is how I feel,
that being among and touching them
feels like I'm blessing them with a bit of shine.

All in all, all the jewels are worthless,
if they can't make you shine on your own.