I
am
you
am I
mine?
she is
you cry
you have
she cries
we all cry
you’ve born
you’re human
you’re people
you are guilty
you’re what see
you’re different
you’re living now
you are dying soon
you’re what I’m not
you’re what was born
you were who was born
you were who I was not
you are what you became
you are your workmanship
you fought against no one
you have spent your forces
you wasn’t repented for any
you wanna be what you’re not
you’re what your daddy wanted
you are what the society waits
you wanted the past to not work
you won a ticket to the paradise
you have lost what is called hope
you lived your human life as I did
you can do almost nothing right now
you then learned how to die in peace
you were exactly what it is to be you
you came, then lived to later absent
under the earth you’re gonna vanish
in some memories, maybe you remain
when one man will remember of you
another man may forget your name
without life everything will go
you every day resting in peace
what was material will perish
so that other comes for life
and another comes and reads
and discovers your history
while the legible letters
that eyes will still see
come to tell our future
you will remain nearby
read prior to leaving
just let me go sleep
then depart smiling
leaves me to dream
as your last gift
then, when awake
I don’t see you
I followed you
you not there
did not wait
nor revisit
I believed
and chase
we blind
nor I’m
or you
their
will
was
up
I
Apr 23, 2007
Generic Poem
Apr 18, 2007
Anti-Inspiration
Bullets pierce my skin,
blood string down my lips
punishing me for the sin
of being the light of eclipse.
My voice slowly fades,
the world stops to spin
giving a vision of shades
of all the fears I had within.
I hear angels playing lyre,
I see my own constellation,
but I don't feel the heating fire...
It's not my final destination,
there's no place I want retire
for I still have some inspiration.
blood string down my lips
punishing me for the sin
of being the light of eclipse.
My voice slowly fades,
the world stops to spin
giving a vision of shades
of all the fears I had within.
I hear angels playing lyre,
I see my own constellation,
but I don't feel the heating fire...
It's not my final destination,
there's no place I want retire
for I still have some inspiration.
Apr 17, 2007
My Muse Is Here
We didn't exchange words today,
I don't have any sentence to say.
God knows how much you're away,
I'm always alone to start my pray.
What you say just makes me cry,
every word is a tear on each eye
and every second that I can't smile
I'm crying of happiness, that's why!
We met and chat when time is free,
I think of the muse you're gonna be,
and of my love growing as a tall tree.
But every goodbye is a time to flee,
'cos when you're far away, you'll see
nothing between my heart and me.
I don't have any sentence to say.
God knows how much you're away,
I'm always alone to start my pray.
What you say just makes me cry,
every word is a tear on each eye
and every second that I can't smile
I'm crying of happiness, that's why!
We met and chat when time is free,
I think of the muse you're gonna be,
and of my love growing as a tall tree.
But every goodbye is a time to flee,
'cos when you're far away, you'll see
nothing between my heart and me.
Ambiguity
When we love us, we search us.
When we find us, we lose us,
we divide us in other branches
of soft loves and searches.
When we lose us, we earn much.
When we earn, we disdain such,
that we give us through the years
invisible to eyes and silent to ears.
The more we desire, more we dislike.
The more we hate, less we are alike.
When less we want, we have felicity,
we love much beyond the extremity.
When we find us, we lose us,
we divide us in other branches
of soft loves and searches.
When we lose us, we earn much.
When we earn, we disdain such,
that we give us through the years
invisible to eyes and silent to ears.
The more we desire, more we dislike.
The more we hate, less we are alike.
When less we want, we have felicity,
we love much beyond the extremity.
Mar 16, 2007
Confusion
Sing to me your favourite song,
I know you'd bite my forearm
if you didn't go singing along
watching for traps to disarm.
A pea butt ice cream for you,
a t-shirt with your pic for me,
a black apple that looks blue
and a submarine on Dead Sea.
I never did what you said,
I never put my heart for sale,
neither I charmed a mermaid
nor go to desert in a whale.
One thing is true: nothing.
Nothing is everything, and not.
Since nothing is not a thing,
so I hit pineapples in the spot.
You better activate mental block
before of all this confusion.
All the doors you will knock
will lead you to another illusion.
I know you'd bite my forearm
if you didn't go singing along
watching for traps to disarm.
A pea butt ice cream for you,
a t-shirt with your pic for me,
a black apple that looks blue
and a submarine on Dead Sea.
I never did what you said,
I never put my heart for sale,
neither I charmed a mermaid
nor go to desert in a whale.
One thing is true: nothing.
Nothing is everything, and not.
Since nothing is not a thing,
so I hit pineapples in the spot.
You better activate mental block
before of all this confusion.
All the doors you will knock
will lead you to another illusion.
Mar 14, 2007
Erase These Verses of Me
Erase these verses of me,
these words do not speak!
I write while feeling weak.
Blind, the truth I don’t see.
We hear steps of the death.
Wall clock tick-tacking…
and my verses keyboarding.
How much costs my breath?
I can for moments forget
when remembering your eyes,
and I believed my own lies
that I would only win if I bet.
All my bred randomness
transforms into inspiration.
Verses are their destination
like the sword of sharpness.
Sword that slices my chest.
The more that I think about,
is the more that I’ll find out
how I hate not being her best.
Gratitude with hatred and love,
for the quotas of my existence
with mentions to my experience,
please do what I asked above.
Erase these verses of me,
these words I did not speak!
Desires that I did not seek
with eyes that cannot see.
these words do not speak!
I write while feeling weak.
Blind, the truth I don’t see.
We hear steps of the death.
Wall clock tick-tacking…
and my verses keyboarding.
How much costs my breath?
I can for moments forget
when remembering your eyes,
and I believed my own lies
that I would only win if I bet.
All my bred randomness
transforms into inspiration.
Verses are their destination
like the sword of sharpness.
Sword that slices my chest.
The more that I think about,
is the more that I’ll find out
how I hate not being her best.
Gratitude with hatred and love,
for the quotas of my existence
with mentions to my experience,
please do what I asked above.
Erase these verses of me,
these words I did not speak!
Desires that I did not seek
with eyes that cannot see.
Survivor
Great crowd of transgressors,
they are only mediocre actors
that for obsession for censors
they suffer their life of horrors.
I will survive the earthquake,
the great tidal waves I’ll shake,
and to the hasty verses I make,
it’s a blue way to do my escape.
But without you, I will die.
For you, I’ll sin then say “bye”.
For your happiness I will fight.
For my future is not so bright.
they are only mediocre actors
that for obsession for censors
they suffer their life of horrors.
I will survive the earthquake,
the great tidal waves I’ll shake,
and to the hasty verses I make,
it’s a blue way to do my escape.
But without you, I will die.
For you, I’ll sin then say “bye”.
For your happiness I will fight.
For my future is not so bright.
Time
Today the time is as tomorrow.
Angel in the sand, badly drawn,
close to where I was seated down
with my parents and my sorrow.
Clouds taken into sky by the wind
is all I see from the small opening,
from my bed, just after awakening
there’s nothing here I can rescind.
Preluding morning of a new start
of another day I’ll live outside my cave.
If at least I could stop the seas to wave...
perhaps I’d find in Past my other part.
I open the door, I’m going to the sea.
The breeze in my chest is like fate
as I approach to the ocean as his mate.
Water circles me like a cup to the tea.
How much time lasts this rock here?
Where gone the angel and the footprints?
If my workmanships lose their tints,
then why the water doesn’t burst me?
Angel in the sand, badly drawn,
close to where I was seated down
with my parents and my sorrow.
Clouds taken into sky by the wind
is all I see from the small opening,
from my bed, just after awakening
there’s nothing here I can rescind.
Preluding morning of a new start
of another day I’ll live outside my cave.
If at least I could stop the seas to wave...
perhaps I’d find in Past my other part.
I open the door, I’m going to the sea.
The breeze in my chest is like fate
as I approach to the ocean as his mate.
Water circles me like a cup to the tea.
How much time lasts this rock here?
Where gone the angel and the footprints?
If my workmanships lose their tints,
then why the water doesn’t burst me?
Routine
I was born to dream, without fear.
In this night of shining stars,
even more distant than Mars,
of them I will try to come near.
In the fireplace the heat of flames,
in the skies the smoke flies gray,
I will travel for mountains of clay
and over seas of wine from kames.
Painted smile of extreme beauty,
your face remains in my mind,
therefore all pretty things I find,
are a sketch of the beauty in thee.
No matter how you run away from me,
I’ll always be punished by my heart:
to dream of you but to wake up apart
is the saddest thing it could ever be.
Nothing really matters, the night is short.
But the sadness brought by the morning sun
making my sweet dreams of night to run
is the only thing my soul can’t support.
We will do the same every night,
always keeping our hearts spared
until we meet to get prepared
for another night of high flight.
In this night of shining stars,
even more distant than Mars,
of them I will try to come near.
In the fireplace the heat of flames,
in the skies the smoke flies gray,
I will travel for mountains of clay
and over seas of wine from kames.
Painted smile of extreme beauty,
your face remains in my mind,
therefore all pretty things I find,
are a sketch of the beauty in thee.
No matter how you run away from me,
I’ll always be punished by my heart:
to dream of you but to wake up apart
is the saddest thing it could ever be.
Nothing really matters, the night is short.
But the sadness brought by the morning sun
making my sweet dreams of night to run
is the only thing my soul can’t support.
We will do the same every night,
always keeping our hearts spared
until we meet to get prepared
for another night of high flight.
Mar 11, 2007
Practical definition
The Matereism is the new literary movement that inquires the rupture with the post-modernism through the not-rupture, thus breaching with all the previous movements. It comes from the consideration of the substance, the ethereal and the paradoxical abyss of the circular random definitivism.
The following is combined:
Materialism:
The materialism assigns a set of philosophical doctrines that, when rejecting the existence of a principle spiritual binds to all the reality to the material and its modifications.
Etherealism:
The conscience of the existence of the World of the Ideas, as an idealism, the invisible force that not only explains the phenomena that science does not explain, as also the ones that it explains.
Paradoxical abyss:
The existence in the non-existence, an abyss is nothing, and nothing is an abyss. But if it is, it is something, thus being something means it cannot be nothing. It is not a whole but also it does not lack any parts.
Circular random definitivism:
It is gift to not know the basics of origin of something, besides seeking the disequilibrium in the interdependence, as the shade, the light and the illuminated thing. Objects originate in ideas, but where do ideas originate?
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