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.