Tiago D. Dias

e em mais um dia de Janeiro

2012-01-23T00:54:00.003-02:00

os porcos ignoram quando lhes convém;
quando estupram filhas dos outros
e espancam os que não tem pai(í)s.
pisam em jardins alheios,
e prendem os jardineiros,
mas os porcos não se importam,
afinal não se alimentam de flores,
e veem tudo em preto e branco.

(estão deitados, com a barriga para o alto,
em meio a lama)

e os porcos se protegem em troco de sua liberdade
trocam seu cansaço por uma ilusão frágil
vivem como sombras de sombras
do que seriam se tivessem coragem

(estão ruminando a própria vontade, com os cascos rachados)

e os porcos não sofrem em mais um dia em Janeiro,
vivem a certeza falha do porvir,
sua certeza vem do medo,
instinto primitivo e aguçado.

os porcos mais uma vez sobrevivem,
caudicantes,
trêmulos,
porém respirando,

em um dia em Janeiro.

Comforting Sounds

2012-01-16T01:09:00.003-02:00

From my bedroom I can hear the beach,
with its soothing sounds
and its incomprehensible anger
frightening only experienced sailors

From my bedroom I can hear the ocean,
colliding against the sand
in a dance that remained silent
until someone could hear it

In the end we are all
just like Portuguese sailors
looking for a piece of ground,
that we can call home

From my bedroom I hear whispers
in a city that remains forsaken
every time it tries to be forgotten
in a foolish attempt of forgiveness

all those comforting sounds are a melody
sounding like a lullaby that lingers
since the dawn of times,
patiently waiting for a listener.

there is a valley - part I

2012-01-08T23:17:00.002-02:00

there is a valley surrounded by small mounts,
whose peak are not high,
inhabited by creatures
(both humans and beasts)
that carry no ambitions
or any major flaws
that wear colorful dresses
that match not their souls.
in there lays a small city,
whose name has no logic
or any discernible history,
owning much of their existence to inertia.

landscapes

2011-12-28T16:51:00.003-02:00

you're just a city
with a million other stories
but there's a piece of you
that is only mine,
filled with who i was
and who i'll never be

(although i'll never fully understand,
comprehend, or accept that fact)

landscapes that hold eternity
inside of my memory
that slowly decays
but, oblivion,
that cold, eight-legged, friend
has no knowledge of time.

you're just a city -
whose bricks albeit real -
live only through a collective goodwill

Tainted Saints With No Guilt

2011-12-20T00:19:00.008-02:00

we're tainted saints with no guilt
who set their sails to be adrift
our holy bodies in the right place
as we find shortcuts in our maze

we're guiltless kids full of doubts
trying to collide in lonely crowds
our eyes shine with different colors
our lust is sacred, our faith's hollow

you're the blossoming flower on a boring day
you're the abyss that I throw myself away
you're the silence and its million senses
you're a prison without any fences

as we lose our air, laying on the ground
every second has a death to be found
every death has a life to be regained
as every desire can be played again

just as we sleep stuck by our sweat
a winter night whispers cold beyond
life is a succession of our regrets,
(a silence waltz for our unborn son)

Futuro do Pretérito

2011-12-09T03:07:00.002-02:00

quem sabe em alguns anos,
eu a encontre, em algum aeroporto
ou bar
em alguma esquina perdida
em qualquer cidade pequena
e ambos fingiremos curiosade,
sobre detalhes passageiros
(que pensando bem,
serão a base de tudo o que temos)
sorriremos e ficaremos felizes
em aquiescer que ambos estamos vivos
e não mais nos veremos,
e saíremos pensando,
em qualquer guerra que possa começar
em qualquer país que jamais iremos,
tudo para não pensar no que nós jamais fomos,
ou nos nomes de filhos que não tivemos...

3h27

2011-11-28T23:34:00.002-02:00

às 3:27,
você sai,
e a cidade brilha no escuro
daqui de cima,
daqui do nono andar,
e você sai...
segue o seu caminho, e vai
com remorso
e sem olhar pra trás
com uma lágrima envergonhada
(como se amar e ser amada,
fosse um pedido de perdão)
e assim, você vai
e eu, pobre de mim,
uma parte de mim fica
e outra se esvai,
feito fumaça,
a poluir mais um pouco essa cidade
que a todo custo
se ocupa em brilhar.

The Touch of Your Hand is Such

2011-11-22T03:31:00.003-02:00

the touch of your hand is such,
that it makes me understand -
as our hearts grow with desire,
life is only a flickering flame,
that we struggle to see through...

the touch of your hand is such,
that it merely sways and brakes
all of my ways, and I stay,
I stay and stay with no reason to move
blindfolded by my own desires

the touch of your hand is such,
that when it quivers, i shiver,
like a young tree that bends down,
forced by its own ambitions,

Haikais

2011-11-14T03:07:00.002-02:00

my dreams are now,
all but a fading memory,
of who I planned to be

E a primavera traz flores,
mesmo sabendo que no final,
o inverno é impassível

Um uivo de um cachorro velho,
ecoa, ecoa e ressoa,
numa madrugada triste e esquecida

Niterói

2011-10-30T00:43:00.002-02:00

Nessa cidade feita de milhões de sonhos
e de mãos calejadas, eu me perco
entre ruas que conheço mais que a mim mesmo.

e todos os meus sonhos estão prenhes
com todas as minhas ilusões feitas de fumaça;
e carrego em meus ombros as minhas saudades.

e você é todos os meus medos conjugados,
e você é todos os meus medos aumentados,
e você é parte de mim que ficou pelo caminho
e você é o caminho que mudou algo em mim...

e assim nessa cidade de frente pro mar,
eu abro minhas velas e navego sem estrelas,
sem esquecer que há sempre um porto lá atrás...

this is a poem

2011-10-16T22:36:00.002-02:00

this is a poem made of few words,
hoping to fit in correctly
(not too much so it feels ordinary,
not too little so it feels too daring)

this is a poem to be read fast,
hoping to be consumed with ease
(not too much as it offends you,
not too little as it pleases you)

this is a poem that will only take
five minutes of your precious time,
(not too many minutes as it bores you,
and not too few so it feels as a waste)

this is a poem made of few words,
made to make an impact, and soon be forgotten
(not as much that it would make a change,
and not as little to be read aloud)

There Are Some Cold Days In Which

2011-10-12T22:51:00.003-03:00

there are some cold days in which I wish
to be, for a while, who we once were,
in those days, which we would spend our time,
looking at the cracks in your wall,
and building plans out of grains of sand
wasting our time in your old noisy bed,
holding hands as the winter came...

but darling, time has no feeling
or anything that looks as a reason
it just has its infinite meanings
that we shape as it shapes us all

there are some days in which I wish
that i could have a couple of minutes,
to hold your hand again as i used to,
in a cold day in May as brown leaves came,
so i could offer you my sincere apologies
for the sins i unwillingly committed;
(to clean away my guilty of changing).

but darling, time has no reason
or anything that looks like a feeling,
it just acts according to its fair meanings
when it commits its own acts of treason.

there are some days in which I wish,
we both could become who we used to be,
there are some other days in which I wish,
who we were could as easily disappear,
just to live without leaving any trace left.

2011-10-10T23:44:00.001-03:00

I just had a visitor from Scranton on my blog. Was that you, Dwight?

I carry the anger

2011-10-10T01:59:00.002-03:00

I carry the anger of a thousand poets
that will never be read and will waste their talents
working on night shifts at gas stations,
counting coins and giving change
waiting for a chance,
while struggling with the predictability of their lives.

and our heroes will build their own empires
based on themselves
carrying greed branded as entrepreneurship,
giving us the darkest secrets
of our own Will;

as prophets shall sell destruction
we set ourselves of fire to distract ourselves
with the flame

also, we will buy hope and love
on installments.

Valsa em Dois Tempos

2011-10-10T00:11:00.002-03:00

uma dança mansa e insinuante -
feito onda no mar, feito canção de ninar:
assim é a minha saudade,
assim fora o meu passado.
assim fora o meu futuro.

meu bem, você é um retrato,
de tudo o que eu jamais fora
e sempre sonhei em ser,

meu bem, você é uma prova
da auto-aceitação e da leveza
de ser sem se perceber;
da alternativa aos planos de outrora
(todos feitos de mármore,
e cravejados de diamantes)

meu bem,
você é a alternativa fugaz
e a beleza do acaso.

in spite of;

2011-09-29T16:28:00.003-03:00

i love you in spite of;
of all your imperfectness
and all of your
quirkiness
and such,

and i love you for you gave meaning
to a common night in July;
you took the ordinary
and turned it
into a memory i will revisit
relive
and recreate throughout my whole life

i love you in spite of;
myself and all that i am
or could be -
you are the dream inside of a dream
that i always carried
in my pocket and in my heart

i love you for with you
we are against the odds,
on a world filled with obstacles
and randomness:
you carry the hope of a bird for an adrift ship

i love you for your quirkiness
and the ability you
(and only you possess)
to cast your shadow upon myself on a desert,
even when you are not here.

2011-09-27T22:43:00.003-03:00

(nós)
decoramos nosso castelo de areia
e nós o vimos desabar,
enquanto estávamos dentro -
preocupados em o criar

E nós fomos, enquanto permitiu o mar...
e a maré veio, e cansamos de amar
entre ondas, nossa vida viu-se em vagas,
e agora, a sós,
vamos, impacientes e conformados
a vagar...

A Morte de Troy Davis

2011-09-25T22:01:00.001-03:00

No dia vinteeum de setembro
de doismileonze
Troy Davis foi morto

às onzehoraseoitominutos
(da noite)
Troy Davis foi morto

com uma injeção letal
após pedidos de clemência
e um julgamento dúbio
após assumir sua inocência
frente a culpa que lhe fora jogada
Troy Davis foi morto

com seus sonhos sólidos
como um floco de neve na primavera
Troy Davis foi morto

após em sua vida alcançar
a fama que jamais imaginara,
ironicamente,
Troy Davis foi morto

e a vingança travestida de justiça,
falou mais alto, e
Troy Davis como seu último recurso,
afirmou sua inocência
antes de ser executado...
e agora, para Troy Davis,
não há mais volta,
e as lágrimas que ficam,
são de um conformismo seco,
e doloroso.
a culpa ou a inocência,
são apenas subjetivos,
pois -
Troy Davis está morto.

i love you for simple reasons

2011-09-18T01:28:00.003-03:00

(and on a warm night
our bodies intertwine,
there's no you nor an I,
and our memory abides...)

inside your blue eyes
I am but a sailor
trying to make his land
out of a vast ocean

i love you for simple reasons
that i cannot explain;
and my love as pure as,
a martyr that dies in vain.

your eyes when on top of mine
are mine as well to hide.
our dreams built to amaze
illusion of thread on a maze...

i love you and i couldnever
give you a reason or a why;
my love is as simple as
all the hopes in your eyes...

On An Ocean of Coincidences

2011-09-11T22:40:00.003-03:00

on those streets dyed in grey,
there are many shades to see,
and many shadows to believe,
oh babe, life is but a whisper...
and we are but flimsy,
as our bodies intermingle -
we feel the pleasure and warmth
of sharing our loneliness..

inside my cynicism, a thousand dreams
made of a very thin crystal;
I'm just a bird bred in captivity
who had regained its freedom,
lost in a cage that's only bigger
trying to figure it's own path,
as the wind subtle as a whisper,
takes my hand as I try to grasp...

on a maze of a thousand lights,
where people avoid one another
still they are bound to collide,
meaningless they all strife...
my love, you make me undress
of my heavy armor and mess
like a leaf floating on a stream
i follow your will as it flows...

and witnessed by a dim light
our bodies as flames would collide
carrying all of their possibilities,
that leads to the same unique end.
filled with innocence and desire,
we would set our hopes on fire.
my love, on an ocean of coincidences,
you are my constant star...

O Circo

2011-09-01T23:06:00.001-03:00

Na rua -
há meninos equilibristas;
com um olhar amargo
e uma tênua maquiagem
de fuligem.

A Bird Bred In Captivity

2011-08-29T22:53:00.002-03:00

I'm just a bird bred in captivity
who had just regained its freedom,
lost in a cage that's only bigger
trying to figure it's own path

I am a sailor that longs to make
out of an unknown ocean, it's land
you're the constant star I follow,
randomly pointing a certain way...

(oh, I undress my heavy armor
and I let my guard open
so I can feel free,
within every inch of you)

my dear, you are all of the fears
I feared I would never have;
I merge into you and the silence,
I realize you are all of my hopes.

O Porto da Minha Cidade

2011-08-18T18:16:00.003-03:00

No porto da minha cidade
não partiu nenhum desbravador dinamarquês,
ou explorador português.
Na minha cidade não saiu nenhum
galeão espanhol carregado de expectativas
e pólvora
ou piratas ingleses
No porto da minha cidade
só há pescadores
com suas tarrafas desembaraçadas
suas mãos calejadas
e seus sonhos de cristal.

Santa María

2011-08-15T21:10:00.001-03:00

lay those blue eyes
on top of mine
give me an illusion
there's nothing outside

you are all of the
fears
I was afraid of never having

and we are doomed
to find us a future
as we both follow
unknown stars...

(and you give me the freedom,
of not having a choice,
as a ship adrift,
I go...)

A Deriva

2011-08-13T21:00:00.003-03:00

meu bem,
você me dá a liberdade
de não ter que escolher,
tal qual um navio sem velas,
eu vou,
a deriva...

2011-08-03T18:40:00.002-03:00

This city is made of
bricks and wires
all put together
by men with harsh hands
and crystal dreams;

scent of forgotten illusions
and build up memories
(collide with light poles)

well, my love,
i am so lost,
trying to build
something for myself
with my harsh dreams
and my crystal hands...

Terça-feira

2011-07-28T10:55:00.002-03:00

A minha saudade
é um perfume conhecido
em situações inesperadas
e em lugares comuns.

eu tentei te encontrar
nessas ruas cansadas
(que nunca fecham os olhos,
nunca cessam de observar)

a parte de um passado
que eu tento reviver
a certeza e o agrado
que eu tive em você,

mas numa terça-feira
descansada e despercebida,
você saiu e se perdeu
e perdi algo que fui eu...

E assim, algo permanecerá
E assim, algo se perderá
E assim, algo me despedaçará
E assim, algo me reconstruirá

com reticências achadas
numa noite sem estrelas
em caminhos desconhecidos
porém já caminhados...

A minha saudade
é um perfume conhecido
em situações inesperadas
e em lugares comuns.

2011-07-25T01:19:00.003-03:00

every light you shed,
casts infinite shadows
every light you reflect,
upon any common meadow -
has the soothing effect
of a river that's shallow...

inside the possibilities
of every little thing
you give value to
and you do...

there is
a goal you do
not want to lose
when you swim by; loose...

(
also, there is
a piece of you
that you long
to keep as you
move and move
in a struggle
to be still...
)

O Farol

2011-07-22T22:56:00.002-03:00

Meu bem, somos como exploradores portugueses,
procurando o desconhecido pra chamarmos de lar;
porém ressentindo a saudade do que deixamos...

Segure minha mão, e em meio a imensidão
de tudo o que eu não consiga ver
leve-me e seja o meu motivo
pra que eu possa me perder
em tudo o quê for você...

Pois se há um farol, há sempre um pretexto
para se viver qualquer ilusão,
pois se há uma estrela e uma bússola
achemos sempre uma nova direção...

Meu bem, somos como exploradores portugueses,
com medo de tudo o que chamamos de lar
procurando qualquer pedaço de terra em meio ao mar...

A Spring Inside Your Smile

2011-07-20T00:51:00.005-03:00

lay those blue eyes on top of mine
give me an illusion there's nothing outside...
only a fog and a weak dim light
that hides itself behind the fight

you would say we shouldn't go further,
but when we open your sails like this...
we are doomed to find a future
just by following unknown stars...

and in those eyes - I wanna be lost
(so I can learn how to be found)
there is a Spring inside your smile
I'll make a life out of our dreams...

naive enough to regain my innocence
and I hold your hand - blindfolded,
we cross the tightrope that binds us;
enjoying the view from the abyss below

spending time decorating our sandcastle
all we really are is what we dream,
so we share them as we add up our illusions
the time, we lose, is the time we have...

and in those eyes I wanna be lost
so I can learn how to be found
there is a Spring inside your smile
i'll make a life out of our dreams.

there's an universe inside your curious eyes
that I lay my thoughts when I am lost
there's a shelter inside your smile
that I long for after those many miles

there's an universe inside your curious eyes
that I lay my thoughts when I am lost
there's a shelter in the end of the miles
eventually leading to your many smiles...

And it all seems like a blur... (part I)

2011-07-18T14:33:00.003-03:00

After almost six months of living abroad in Denmark, all I've lived in there seems like a blur of memories; everything just went by so fast that time appears distorted and I cannot seem to be able to draw a timeline with all the important things that happened to me over there...

All those months, weeks, days... they all seem like it were just one weekend or two. It seems as if I arrived at Kastrup Airport yesterday. It snowed and it was obviously cold; I was alone in a different country, quite uncertain of what would be of the next six months I would spend in there. All I knew was that I had two large suitcases and I was 3 hours away from the city I was supposed to call mine for the next semester. And in the following day I took the train and there I was, waiting for my mentor to meet me.

Although it wasn't cold, it did not snow; still we could see the snow and the ice on the streets, and it would remain there for some weeks; weeks in which I would learn how to walk on ice with falling. And weeks that I would learn not to forget my gloves, otherwise my fingers would burn. Those were probably the first lessons out of many that would shape the person I am now. We do change constantly, but living in a different country had made that change more obvious to me. And as the days went by, Winter left and the snow slowly melt, allowing the grass to be seen and small yellow flowers to blossom in front of my window.

Cabe a Nós

2011-07-11T13:31:00.004-03:00

Tudo o que há ou houve nessa vida,
apenas é.
cabe a nós complicarmos as coisas,
cabe a nós adjetivar a vida...

cabe a nós nos permitir achar qualquer sentido,
em meio a indiferença de tudo que nos cerca.

e é nosso dever atribuir significado
a morte, as cidades
aos caracóis, as amantes
a mesa de centro,
e ao centro de gravidade

Tudo o que há ou houve nessa vida,
porém, tudo o que nós somos,
bem, isso já é matéria por demais complexa...

2011-07-05T08:50:00.003-03:00

You were my constant star
even when the sky was dark
and I would float through the boredom
of an ever-changing sea...

like a Portuguese sailor
I would long for something new,
while still missing the land
I used to call home.

Like A Stone Upon Any Calm Shore

2011-07-04T18:56:00.002-03:00

Spring time comes now with old novelties,
as we're shaped without losing our form -
leaving only flowers made of a colorful smoke,
leading to a nostalgia we're bound to soak

Now, my dear, the times have changed
and so did us, even though it's subtle
like a stone upon any calm shore
bound to leave its mark on the sands of time

With memories that seem like a futile attempt
of trying to stick to what we won't again be
and everything we are still able to remember
will be sooner or later forever forgotten...

As nothing ever lasts and everything is frail
and we are just as unique and we could be,
my darling, you carry the beauty of a flower
trapped inside any casual lost second...

As the Sunset Drew A Closure for Us - The Life After People

2011-06-20T21:02:00.000-03:00

As the Sunset Drew A Closure for Us by The Life After People

Espero que gostem :)

As The Sunset Drew a Closure for Us

2011-06-15T06:36:00.004-03:00

As the snow falls beyond your window
and the dark night shelters the both of us
those winter warm nights in your bedroom
forever endless inside their seconds...
I built you as my own illusion
without asking for your consent

As the snow fell beyond your window
you knew that our shelter would end
those winter warm nights were numbered
as the sunset drew a closure for us
I built you as my illusion
without asking for your consent

As we aren't the same as we were before
those moments will be trapped inside us
I'll romanticize all of your whispers
until there's only the life that's not mine
I built you as my illusion
without asking for your consent

When I Leave Aarhus

2011-06-14T20:15:00.003-03:00

when I leave Aarhus,
I won't miss the city in itself
for a city is just millions of bricks, cement and asphalt
built by rough hands that carry crystal dreams.

I'll miss the flowers that blossom in the first days of spring
in spite of the snow that still lays in the grass,
waiting patiently for the time to pass.

and the memories I will reconstruct with the help
of many hands I've gathered from many places,
the expectations inside the total darkness

the people I learned to love
and the moments in which I felt like a hero
conquering any silly detail I never thought I would do

I'll miss who I was in here;
for who I was is not a part of me
anymore,
it's just a recollection
of everyone I've met inside this maze without a map.

but what I'll miss the most is the
tiny things that I'll only be able to see only from afar

The Moments in Which You Waited

2011-06-06T19:07:00.006-03:00

the moments in which you waited for my reaction
when you said that you and I were no more
and that I were doomed to be nothing more than a list of memories,
full of nostalgia and a condescending smile
that ignored all of my failures and shortcomings;
for I would not be worth the time to think them over.

the moments in which I'll over think this through
(and I'll blame me for not blaming you for blaming me),
then I would also waste it building a hypothetical future
from a past that didn't exist, using recollections of you
that you wouldn't recognize as being yourself...
(how do you ask someone the permission to recreate them?)

the moments in which you'll think this over
is when you ran into something specific that would remember you
of a lost memory full of tenderness from those moments -
which we shared a warm bed under a cold moon in a windy night,
and you would miss the sex and the youth you slowly lose
but you would not miss who I really were or thought to be...

the moments in which I'll think through my reaction
when you said you and I were no more
and then under a cold moon in a quiet night quite ordinary
in which I can not sleep nor stay awake,
I'll think it all through trying to locate
the mistake I committed in a past that didn't exist...

The Flowers That Passed

2011-05-31T17:57:00.003-03:00

Inside my cynicism -
I carry a thousand dreams,
made of a very thin crystal.

A veil of hope -
surrounds me like a fog
and conceal what I lost...

As I take your hand
You try to grasp
And I try to comprehend
the moments inside the moment.

Just another day -
unlike any other before
I waste while I want more...

The wind, it shows -
subtle like a whisper
the storms of tomorrow.

As you take my hand
I try to grasp
and you try to understand
the flowers that passed...

Flores No Canto do Meio-Fio

2011-05-29T19:29:00.003-03:00

Nessa manhã semelhante
a tantas outras:
cheia de possibilidades
não aproveitadas,

flores no canto do meio-fio,
e o encanto da efemeridade
é perdido em meio a tudo que
lhe parece eterno...

Em meio a ressaca
de uma calmaria calculada
pesa-se o tempo desperdiçado
com uma balança de ouro.

E as flores no canto do meio-fio,
estão lá paradas
ocupadas a medir
o peso da indiferença

The July Showers Come After All

2011-05-20T17:08:00.003-03:00

The July showers come after all
to wash away all of our sins
and start over all of our means;
to rebuild all of our laughter
and recreate all of our matter...

The July showers come after all
you're as predictable as a fallen leaf
and I haven't got used to it,
open your eyes to see through the curtain
the sweet illusion things remain the same...

The July shower come after all
to wash away all of ourselves
into a different world of our regrets,
darling, lead me by the hand,
into another shade through the same land.

Casa Velha

2011-05-18T19:10:00.002-03:00

Adeus, casa velha,
A mudança há de vir
e o tempo terá que passar;
as caixas irão se encher
e as luzes irão se apagar,
nos cômodos que eu me criei
e cuidadosamente criei para mim
sonhos e ilusões,
memórias e distrações,
esses cômodos irão ficar
e eu fico com o que eu posso levar;
outros moradores virão
comprarão plantas e as regarão,
lavarão o piso e
talvez cultivem o riso,
farão dessas paredes um lar -
completamente diferente -
do lar que eu levo comigo
ao deixar essa casa...
Adeus, casa velha.

Amongst All of Us

2011-05-09T21:28:00.002-03:00

amongst all the hookers and drug dealers
all the preachers and the believers
all the saints and the martyrs
all the poets and the fighters

they are all weighting themselves
with a scale they can't measure
and they are all carrying themselves
with the lenghts of their pleasure

they are all hypnotized in front of mirrors
all painted in a thousand different colors
they are all hypnotized in front of mirrors
a reflection in many shades of the same color.

all of them under the flickering lights
of the stars and the light poles,
guided by their own loneliness
falling in love with any shadow of illusion.

and on this hazy lazy drunk night
there's nothing else for us to do
if not decorate our own sand castles
with our own hopes and expectation

and watch it from inside while it crumbles
whenever the tide rises...

Obama Is Not Dead

2011-05-02T18:32:00.004-03:00

There's something profoundly wrong with a society that celebrates death. Most of the times it is the celebration of an enemies death; an enemy which quite often is the personification of "evil" in itself. But that quite often is the beginning of a movement towards the loss of the sanctity of human life. Whenever a death is celebrated, it means that we lost all the empathy towards that human being; from that to losing empathy towards groups, towards whole communities, countries is not a big leap, most of the time it is just a small step.

With that in mind I began to re-think the events of such a historical day as today. Osama bin Laden is dead. The most wanted man and probably one of the most famous man in the planet was shot dead today. The mind behind the day that left us all dumbfounded with its audacious and extremely cruel attack that resulted in the killing approximately 2,500 civilians is no more. Almost 10 years after the 11/9 he was killed in its death announced to the whole world by Barack Obama in one of those moments that linger on our collective memories.

But what does his death mean to the world? To the war on terrorism, it is early to tell, but there are some signs that it won't make much of a difference on how we perceive terrorism as a threat; or how terrorism is considered by the nations as a threat to their own security. Actually, it could make things worse since some countries are expecting retaliation from Al Qaeda. As of the occupation of Afghanistan, there are no signs of NATO troops leaving the country. So, in the geopolitical sense, it seems that things will remain unchanged for some time.

To America it is an act of revenge more than an act justice. The celebration of his death was a fine moment to reassert American national identity; killing its number one enemy brought up nationalistic feeling all over the country. People were partying around the White House, at the Ground Zero area... Americans felt more Americans inside their own imagined community (as Benedict Anderson would put) and they were proud of it. Still, they were rejoicing the death of a man, and no matter how cruel that man might have been, it was still a human life that deserves utter respect, even stated at American constitution. If the Americans wanted justice, they would've paid some respect towards his life as human being, and the lives of the ones that died at his bloody hands by not celebrating his death; it should have been a moment of mourning of the ones that died nearly 10 years ago that won't come back with his death, still it became the celebration of the execution of an enemy.

The using of national symbols to celebrate the death of man is something that shows us that there might be something wrong with the collective psyche of large portions of a whole nation. The death of a man who obviously won't change what has happened; they might take some solace with that, but the harm is already done. The celebration of this man's death is just a naive and foolish attempt to ignore that fact; even worst, it just makes the ones that celebrate his death closer to Osama himself in his complete lack of respect for human life as a whole. It is of a dark and crude irony that with his death and the celebration of it by the Americans, that it can be the victory of all the "evil" that America claimed to be fiercely fighting against...

Which leads me to my last point: the death of Obama can be the beginning of some kind of sinister cult of his image; his turning into a martyr will likely happen by the same fundamentalists that support him, after all since they have no respect towards human life (quite often, not even their own lives), why would their hero need to be alive? His death is certainly not the death of his ideas and his terrorist thoughts will echo even further. Osama might be dead, but for many who admire his grim actions, he still lives on. And if the "Western" side is losing touch of the value of a single human life, it might as well mean an escalation of the confrontations; which will translate into more deaths on both sides of the struggle.

Those times, in which people more often lose the ability of feeling empathy, and the need for justice turns into a need for vengeance carries nothing but a grim future ahead of us...

Hey, My Dear

2011-04-13T21:30:00.004-03:00

this has been in my had for literally more than one year, finally I finished and it came to me while listening to Beirut that made me remember of a TV series called Capitu and of course, it made me remember of Dom Casmurro

Hey, My Dear

hey, my dear,
whisper in my ears,
all the lies
I would love to hear

slowly I realize
that I've betrayed myself
with my own
jealousy

hey, my dear,
amongst the silence
that was laid here,
answers aren't quite clear

hey, my dear,
it's the doubt that pierces
with the certainty
of having no proofs...

slowly I realize
that I've betrayed myself
with my own
jealousy

hey, my dear,
it's the time we lose
pondering about
the mistakes we choose...

Along the Road

2011-04-11T18:33:00.002-03:00

i'll pick it up along the road
different flowers for you
even though we know
they'll dry out before its due

it's our future regret
that surprises us when it comes
it's the the memories we build
from a past that wasn't true

now I'm scattered around
in every corner I've had to leave
in every life I wish I'd live
vainly I try to gather them all...

oh, my dear, we look as calm
as a tree that faces a storm
with its roots of smoke
and its branches of dreams...

As Any Rainy Day in May

2011-04-10T11:21:00.001-03:00

as any rainy day in May
in which an absence of thoughts
makes me think about all that's lost
now I see your face on a falling leave,
a prelude to a spring that won't come
how our secrets lay forgotten
beneath blankets we've given away
and the only thing we know
about each other is the name
we were given as a curse.
such a beautiful face I romanticized
while creating the present of our memories,
those moments in which we thought
honestly we would last forever,
they were so brief on its eternity...
it was just the illusion of our wishes
that for some reason (beyond ourselves)
didn't come to become reality,
except when we weren't thinking
realistically about us

All Those Songs

2011-04-04T10:49:00.002-03:00

oh, my dear, there isn't much,
nowadays, for us to fight
except fighting for ourselves
and we might as well be losing...

we're too bored for having
too many choices
and we are slaves
of our uncontrollable freewill

so, sweetheart, take my hand
we might as well find each other
through the loneliness
of a crowded night club

those songs in which pleasure
is preached as an obligation
and everything is too obvious
for us to see the subtle change

we're too bored for having
too many choices
and we set ourselves free
by pretending we'll always be the same...

A Eternidade de um Momento

2011-03-30T20:22:00.003-03:00

E a cidade se aquieta
cheirando a gasolina
como antes cheirara ao querosene das lâmpadas
(do século retrasado)
e em comum fica a sensação
perene e serena
do tempo que perdemos,
despercebido...

As portas vão se fechando
o comércio vai se fechando
os sons vão se esvaindo
e assim nada fica
apenas a fugaz impressão de que todo momento

é eterno...

E um velho cão late,
sem ter razão,
pois a razão não compete
a cães que latem numa madrugada fria
a eles apenas compete
latir.

E eu, aqui estou,
com aquela velha maldição,
(o pecado inicial)
de desejar aquilo que não podemos ter,
num mundo em que tudo nos é permitido,
queremos o impossível
e derretemos feito cera
sem saber o que será
de nós ao cair
e cair e cair...

Portanto aqui estou,
para confundir a solidão
deito-me com uma mulher
que não é a mulher com quem eu queria me deitar,
ela cheira bem
(não feito a gasolina)
mas sim com uma aroma sintético e agradável,
e ambos ansiamos por qualquer espécie de contato
que chego a sentir pena
(e sinto que ela sente o mesmo por mim)
e percebo que tal mulher nua
me é uma estranha,
que sei sobre ela apenas o nome que lhe inventaram...

Porém algo dentro de mim me diz
que isso é preferível;
que a ilusão descortinada
ainda vale se fecharmos os olhos...

Echo of a Dead Leaf

2011-03-19T13:38:00.002-03:00

it's the echo of a dead leaf
the memory of a forgotten perfume
it's the remembrance of a broken passion
the dreams that are worn out

it's everything we ever wanted to be
still somehow we could not
it's the feeling of something missing
that haunts us during a silent night

it's the loss of being lost
it's the Lines I have to cross
then the longing to come back
without realizing nothing's the same...

it's the echo of a dead leaf
that leaves upon a gentle breeze
it's just the echo of a broken passion
that stays whenever we leave.

2011-03-16T15:33:00.002-03:00

A mudança de continente, de clima, de fuso-horário, de cultura, de idioma, de rotina me fez menos reflexivo, pelo menos, nesse primeiro mês e meio que estou na Dinamarca.

Tenho tido pouca inspiração (que pode se traduzir em vontade) de escrever poemas e afins. Porém, sinto falta de ter um violão ou uma guitarra, pois tenho tido algumas idéias que considero boas para músicas e uma ou duas linhas melódicas tem martelado minha cabeça. Espero que com um instrumento aqui eu consiga pelo menos compôr e escrever letras, que em todo caso, são poesia também. Mas enfim, a quantidade de postagem diminui, meus caros e poucos leitores, porém, acho que voltará a se normalizar em pouco tempo

2011-03-11T11:12:00.003-03:00

Meu bem,
se você sabe muito bem,
que a chuva sempre vem
e o que tempo não é seu;
(é apenas um empréstimo),
por que esse tom?
por que essa preocupação?
A vida é curta, mas só se percebe,
meu bem,
quando ela está próxima do fim,
só aí é que se perde tempo
pensando no tempo que se perdeu.

Por isso, meu bem,
espero que aprenda muito bem,
que a chuva virá,
afinal ela sempre vem...

Well, Maybe I Am

2011-03-03T21:16:00.004-03:00

You've lied with all the conviction you had
And I felt so blessed for believing you
I wasn't quite sure of your intentions
And I've given you full access and permission

Oh, darling, and it's a known fact
for the both of us
that the lonelier one gets
the easier one falls in love

It's just because you can see right through me
as if I were made of glass
well, maybe I am
well, maybe I am

You've told me the truth once but I was absent
And I felt so blessed in where I was
I wasn't quite sure of what you meant
But somehow you decided you needed to be gone

Oh, darling, and it's a known fact
for the both of us
that the lonelier one gets
the easier one falls in love...

Quem de Nós

2011-03-01T19:01:00.001-03:00

Quem de nós dois desandou;
e no fim se desencontrou
nesse mar imenso e raso
de ilusões feitas ao acaso?

Quem de nós entre vãs promessas,
percebeu que tudo isso
era apenas um castelo de cartas,
e saiu sem avisar ao outro?

Meu bem, apenas lhe peço
que não fique assim,
pois toda essa nossa culpa
não é só minha e sua...

É que fomos ambos educados
a só aprender a ganhar
e quando tivemos que perder
não soubemos nos comportar.

Portanto, fique serena, meu bem
pois o fim, como sabe,
não significa que tudo tenha terminado
mesmo que não haja um recomeço.

O Lado de Fora

2011-02-21T20:31:00.002-03:00

Meu bem, há tanta vida lá fora
que não nos pertence -
fora dessas janelas, há o frio
a neve, as folhas perdidas num inverno duradouro
e também a paz junto com a correria,
meu bem, para nós daqui de dentro desse quarto,
o lado de fora não nos pertence...

The Fall

2011-02-11T09:27:00.002-02:00

Here I am again
committing the same holy Sin
of romanticizing everything
(including and most importantly:
myself)

And then I fall
for if my ambitions are too low
my dreams and hopes are too many

Minor Scratches

2011-02-10T23:01:00.002-02:00

Oh, and there's the February snow,
with its certainty that warms the ones that witness it
and shows us that things change within a certain frame of possibilities;
yet everything has its predictability,
or its way of being that follows a certain pattern
that we're yet to discover...

And there's the love that we are yet to find
and comprehend,
as we travel like an Iberian sailor
looking for seagulls on the same horizon,
so we can rejoice ourselves on a land we know nothing about...

Still, we're still the same, darling,
looking for a shelter amongst a storm
we haven't called for
yet, on a cold night, alone, in front of a computer,
we tend to affirm it is all our fault
even if we're not sure about it
(yet the odds point on our direction...)

Out here, all alone, I suffer from the sadness
of the ones that were exiled
in hotels in front of the Eiffel Tower
and the ones that drink a coffee or
a latte or a bottled water in the Champs Elysée

Some of us are like pandas
with our inability to breed
with our social awkwardness
and our reliance on people we don't comprehend
and we're only kept alive by the loveliness
other people see on us and we assume we possess

Also we assume that the destiny we shape
is like a diamond in its rough form,
yet, my darling,
we're not craftsman nor artists
we're just clumsy enough
to survive with only minor scratches...

Under a Dim Dancing Light

2011-02-07T21:07:00.002-02:00

oh, darling, remember when
our bodies would collide
under a dim dancing light
witnessed by the moon in a cold night

bound by the infinite paths we could choose
we would melt into a single one
filled with innocence and desire
with no concern if not in ourselves

under a dim dancing light
our dreams of smoke would dance at night
and the plans we would build with care
would eventually fall on us...

under a dim dancing light,
I find myself remembering when
our bodies of smoke would collide
within a time I trapped inside my mind...

2011-02-07T20:32:00.003-02:00

It rains
and the sound of it
echoes slowly
and it reaches everyone that is awake.
even though it is a cold night
and the wind has no mercy
upon the brown leaves
I know that all the chances I take
will set me free inside myself

No Caminho Para Aarhus

2011-02-02T17:43:00.000-02:00

Vejo casas de telhado vermelho
(um delas, inclusive,
abrigando um pula-pula,
que caso fosse uma pessoa
veria no inverno uma preparação
para o futuro em que seus pequenos usuários,
iriam lhe abandonar definitivamente)
Vejo um cemitério em tons de cinza,
verde e marrom
coberto de neve
espessa e fria
Vejo árvores desfolhadas
e prédios com janelas vazias
(pois ainda é cedo,
ainda é noite)
E está nublado

No trem para Aarhus
cercado de pessoas que não falam o mesmo idioma que eu
e vice-versa,
porém, em última instância
nós nos compreendemos

Eu Até Pensei

2011-01-28T23:58:00.003-02:00

Eu até pensei que te amava
mas era só a solidão
cobrando o seu preço
pela minha indecisão...

Eu até pensei que você seria
aquela, tão preciosa,
que viria me libertar
com uma gaiola forrada de rosas...

(Com todas as respostas,
pra todas as perguntas
que eu nunca cogitei
ter de me questionar...)

Eu até pensei que você era
o que eu queria que você fosse
mas você não o fora,
foste apenas você mesma...

Eu até pensei em lhe culpar
mas a culpa toda foi minha
de tentar te criar
sem lhe pedir permissão...

Old Pictures of a Nearly Forgotten Lover

2011-01-25T23:29:00.003-02:00

those times in which
(a dim light would witness)
our clumsy bodies collide
and we'd be as one,
turning into a thousand;
living an illusion
in which our own time
would eventually betray us

we were denied entrance
to the paradise we built
for our own safety.

those times in which
(a dim light would witness)
when we would fade
as we melted into one
with innocence and desire
we would plan our future
without asking
our future its consent

we were denied entrance
to the paradise we built
for our own safety

Prague, 1968 - The Life After People

2011-01-24T23:19:00.002-02:00

Então, caros leitores, gravei uma música com meu grande amigo João Carlos e nosso projeto/banda chamado: The Life After People.

http://lifeafterpeopletheband.bandcamp.com/releases

Aqui está o resultado, espero que gostem. Qualquer dúvida, sugestões, comentem por favor, estou aberto a críticas:

:)

http://lifeafterpeopletheband.bandcamp.com/releases

Quando Você me Deixou

2011-01-19T23:37:00.003-02:00

Quando Você me Deixou,
as folhas voavam impunemente
em uma brisa fraca porém constante,
e os lugares que íamos, meu bem,
continuam os mesmos,
exceto pelos detalhes
que nunca prestamos atenção,
(que pecado o nosso, nunca prestamos atenção aos detalhes...)

Quando Você me Deixou
eu fiquei devastado
devido a não realização
de um futuro distante,
porém imaginado,
(qual mal há em se imaginar o futuro?...)
e que para mim era certo;
porém eu deveria ter lhe pedido permissão,
para ter planejado um futuro em que você fazia parte.
Assumo meu erro.

Quando Você me Deixou
eu plantei uma oliveira
dancei o tango dos desolados
cantei a canção dos náufragos
e chorei as lágrimas das crianças perdidas em Shopping Centers,
querida (a chamo assim por hábito),
eu me perdi completamente,
quando você me deixou,
mas achei meu norte,
eventualmente,
como uma bússola sobre uma folha em uma poça

Quando Você me Deixou,
meu ego ficou ferido
por não ser tão bom quanto eu deveria ser para tê-la
e quando você era melhor que eu imaginava,
mas o tempo passa
e a distância chega,
e os defeitos aumentam
(talvez como uma forma de me auto-consolar, talvez)
e vi não eramos feitos um para o outro,
afinal, ainda estamos nos construindo

Quando Você me Deixou,
meu bem, fiz o que me sobrou,
me reformei

A Chuva Cai

2011-01-15T18:21:00.002-02:00

e quando eu fico,
você se vai;
de qualquer jeito,
meu bem,
a chuva cai...

And Today I Fade...

2011-01-14T13:55:00.003-02:00

I swam in your aquarium,
and I made it my sea.
Those days of my youth...
my only need was to dream.

And today I fade into another me
And today I take a piece of you
And we melt into a thousand ones
so we can peacefully disappear...

So this is where we stand
with our youth made of sand
that escapes through our hands
as we dance ourselves at night

We lose ourselves at the fight
that we don't want to win...
We're completely lost tonight
planning the clouds of tomorrow...

And today I fade into another me
And today I take a piece of you
And we melt into a thousand ones
so we can peacefully disappear...

We fade so we can change
We change so we can survive
And I fade into another me
I wouldn't recognize...

Seu Sorriso, Meu Caminho

2011-01-12T18:49:00.002-02:00

Esse seu sorriso noturno
escondendo inutilmente -
um desespero taciturno -
negando o que se mente.

Tanta diferença teria,
meu bem, apenas se nós
soubessemos o que seria;
o que viria após...

Se a surpresa é certeza,
a decepção é uma opção,
(de todos aqueles que sonham),
uma esperança em vão.

Então, meu bem, vamos,
o caminho adiante é longo,
e vale mais o que vemos
do que o tempo para chegar...

Folhas de Outono

2011-01-08T23:24:00.003-02:00

E as folhas no outono cairão
mesmo sem a nossa atenção.
e as folhas no outono morrerão
mesmo sem a nossa intenção.

e a impessoalidade do acaso
que levou ao nosso encontrar,
certamente não será culpado,
se o futuro nos separar...

meu bem, segure minha mão
enquanto o medo de te perder
for maior que o meu medo
de enfrentar a solidão.

meu bem, segure minha mão
para o tempo não passar em vão
e que cada instante perdido
seja um momento adquirido...

e as folhas de outono cairão
mesmo sem a nossa intenção
e as folhas de outono morrerão
mesmo sem a nossa atenção

Barajas - Madrid

2011-01-08T16:39:00.004-02:00

E nesse terminal,
com a impessoalidade de ser nomeado com números,
as pessoas passam e
e histórias começam
e nesse terminal, histórias terminam
vidas se cruzam, abraços são cedidos
solidão é vivida em meio a multidão de desconhecidos
quanto a mim,
eu só observo
estou apenas em trânsito...

A Flor e o Vagabundo

2011-01-04T00:54:00.001-02:00

- Ah, vá, me deixe assim:
sem sentir remorso no fim
sem lágrimas e sem culpa
a não ser pelo tempo que perdi.

Ah, não, não venha me buscar,
estou imune ao seu encantar,
as suas mentiras inconsequentes,
seu pretenso olhar inocente.

- Quantas vezes eu lhe pedi perdão
sem conseguir me perdoar...
Querida, venha e acredite
sou o mesmo, só que eu mudei.

- Ah, não, você não espera
que mais uma vez desperdice minha fé
que de tanto desbotada por ti
já quase não se põe de pé

Ah, como você ainda tem coragem
de me pintar essa paisagem
criada com uma aquarela de mentiras,
porém emoldurada numa prisão?

- Quantas vezes eu lhe perdi o perdão
sem conseguir me perdoar...
Querida, não espero que acredite
que tenha mudado de ser eu mesmo...

my beLoved one.

2010-12-29T02:19:00.006-02:00

let us fade as we merge into one
let us fake as our destiny comes
let us play as our laughter is wrong
let us pay for the time that's gone

(oh,
my be
loved
one)

let us build our Memories from our future
let us bring then to life as a sculpture
let us face our past as an old-age relief
let us share the wind as a fallen leaf

(my beloved
one!)

let us become puppets of our own dream
let us see things only as they seem
let us swim through every single tide
let us become what we wanted to find...

(my beloved one, my beloved one,
my fantasy needs an actress to be done,
my beloved one, my beloved one
my Love needs your presence to become)

Let us have our bodies merge into one
and as one let our bodies turn
into a multitude of possibilities
that will lead to the same unique end...

Futuro do Pretérito

2010-12-26T21:34:00.002-02:00

Vem, e me conta o que te estressa
Me diz, o por quê dessa pressa
que não te deixa ver o caminho,
e que não te deixa sentir o carinho,
que todo o Acaso lhe reserva,
conforme você espera...

Vem, coloca a cabeça no meu colo,
me chame e eu virei logo,
para aplacar essa sua solidão,
e esse seu medo de dizer não.

Meu bem, te fiz gozar mas
não sou eu quem te faz sorrir
Meu bem, te fiz partir mas
não sou eu quem te faz chorar...

Vou me perder na peculiaridade
de cada coisa comum que vem de ti
Sem tentar prever o porvir
criei uma paixao e uma saudade...
sem te perdir tua permissão
ao seu lado me refiz numa ilusão.

Now We Can't Help

2010-12-24T00:40:00.002-02:00

now we can't help but feel extremely
ridiculous
when we think about all those empty
"i love you"
we have said

but i don't regret a single one of them
for they seemed very real to me when I said them
and they seemed very real to me when you said them
darling, our love was entirely based on our willingness
of fooling ourselves over and over
again.

Algum Ponto

2010-12-20T01:45:00.002-02:00

Tentei criar tantos eus que em
algum ponto eu até me arrependi de tanto tentar.
Foi aí que eu percebi que em
algum ponto eu haveria de me aceitar...

Fui Ao Cais

2010-12-17T20:04:00.004-02:00

Ocasionalmente eu gosto de reescrever meus poemas. Por achar idéias novas ou por repensar idéias velhas, eu os reescrevo. Claro que os meus leitores mais assíduos acharão certas semelhanças com poemas anteriores, mas me desculpem, não consigo resistir ao ato de me auto-plagiar.

Fui Ao Cais

E eu fui ao cais
numa dia frio e vazio
em busca de mares
em que pudesse navegar

sem querer eu me perdi
sem querer me achar
procurando a razão do mar
achei uma razão pra amar

na espuma de um dia triste
eu pude lhe avistar
por não olhar pras estrelas
eu pude te encontrar...

E eu me vi náufrago
nadando adiante e senti
que em ti poderia encontrar
uma solidão pra compartilhar

Fui ao cais,
em busca de mares pra navegar
sem querer eu me perdi
sem querer me achar.

Desvio Padrão

2010-12-14T00:41:00.002-02:00

Não há muito do que eu era
no que eu sou
E o tempo que eu levei pra perceber
foi maior que o tempo que levei pra ceder...

Não há muito.
Não há.
Muito.

Não há muito mais do que o pouco que eu perdi.
nem uma glória muito grande em tudo que venci.
Porém eu recrio tudo.
Seja por auto-piedade,
seja por tédio.
E faço das tripas coração
Em busca de qualquer emoção
ou qualquer diversão,
qualquer coisa que me desvie da rotina,
mesmo que seja apenas um desvio padrão.

2010-12-10T20:25:00.003-02:00

Há um vazio bem maior do que
o pouco que falta para se saber tudo
Há uma tristeza inerente
a toda ilusão que se perde com o tempo

Qual utopia poderemos ter? -
se tudo nos é possível ter;
e o que é passível de se ser
não vale o risco de se perder...

Há uma lágrima dentro da lágrima
que não escorre devida a pressa.
Há uma canção dentro do silêncio
que ensurdece a culpa que se confessa.

Há um tragédia encenada em cada momento
que perdemos seguindo o vento -
Há uma utopia dentro do silêncio
e do vazio que buscamos ter ou perder...

A Rainy Night

2010-12-09T20:26:00.003-02:00

this night unfolds as if it were obliged to
raindrops shyly fall
and everything is so unperfect
that it seems as if it were rehearsed
to be like that...

and the mere thought of chance seems too random to exist
that its existence should be completely indispensable
for it to exist.

and this night unfolds itself
shyly like two young lovers
undressing in front of each other
for the first time,

and the rain falls down gently
like tears from a nearly forgotten sorrow
that the mere thought of tomorrow
helps to alleviate but not forget...

and the night just unfolds
without our consent
or without our help
while the rain falls down
obeying the only Law the rain knows...

II

And you, my love, left me here
to wonder about this night and this rain
to wander about the memories we built
and the plans that we knew we wouldn't fulfill
yet we planned them...
(the pleasure of living an illusion that we knew should be real...)
but then, like a gentle breeze,
you had to leave,
obeying the only law you've ever knew.

III

And now, I'm in my room, typing those words
seeing a small fraction of the world through the window of my middle-class room,
and I see the night and the absence of light
and I see the rain
and it's soothing sound
repeating itself
again and again...

Despedida

2010-12-08T16:35:00.001-02:00

E eu te deixo com tudo que tenho
Deixando ainda um pouco de mim
Pego meus livros e memórias
Crio desculpas e histórias
Para justificar a futura solidão
E o tempo perdido em vão
Tentando reparar
O que deixamos de mão...

E cumpro ainda a promessa
De nunca esquecer-me de ti
Porém, não lhe garanto
Que pensarei nas lembranças
Que levamos tanto tempo
Para nos construir...

E me vou, mas, não como vim
O tempo nos transformou
Nisso que agora somos,
Não no que queríamos ser
E o nosso castelo de areia
Ruiu de dentro pra fora
E só a pessoa que eu fora
Lhe faz pulsar a veia..

E assim, me vou, calado
Afinal depois de tanto tempo
Não há nada mais eloquente
Que o silêncio que nos separa...

Reforma

2010-12-07T21:37:00.003-02:00

O amor se foi.

feito jornal de ontem
(ou de anteontem, até)
jogado no chão
servindo de forro
pra não sujar o piso
da tinta que escorre
de uma parede recém-pintada...

O amor se foi.

Feito casa planejada
para eventualmente
ser derrubada
e reconstruída
sobre alicerces novos
porém sobre o mesmo
terreno usado...

O amor se foi.

E só ficou os escombros
que será retirado
e posto em algum lugar distante
inesquecível
porém quase nunca lembrado...

É.

O amor se foi.

A Criança e a Chuva

2010-12-05T22:03:00.003-02:00

Uma criança triste
(devido a própria solidão)
olha pela janela e vê
que chove... e como chove.

e na rua os carros que passam
são esparsos e apressados
e as pessoas aceleram o passo
perdendo a beleza do inevitável
tentando em vão não se molhar...

Ah, e as famílias se reúnem
em frente a TV vendo as notícias
todas fecham as janelas
e olhando somente para frente
tentanto em vão se proteger...

e assim, continua chovendo,
e a criança olha pela janela
até a hora dela dormir
tentando em vão não se lembrar
da solidão de uma noite chuvosa
durante um dia de domingo...

A Tale of a Business Man

2010-12-04T00:36:00.001-02:00

I'm a business man full of myself
Dealing with money and lives
Juggling with numbers and knifes
Hanging it all by a single thread
Making my fortune with all I had
yet all I had was a concrete illusion

I'm lost among the things I've found
Upon which I built my own ground,
there's too much confusion in my head
inside the thoughts I never had
there's the information I soon forget
and the knowledge that is dead

When I first saw you, dressed in gray
as if all your plans would come to pay
You walked in beauty like the night
floating amongst all that's dark and bright
with your dreams around you like clouds
I tried to reach them but they were too far..

As every creature was indifferent to me
Until I gave you the power and possibility
to cast upon me all the joy and pain,
and the smell of your love would remain...
If love is very frail, my were an exception
as I built upon your sand my expectations...

I'm a business man seeing beyond myself
gambling with my feelings and live
juggling with fire and my desire
being hung by your single thread
planning our future without your consent
building my illusion with smoke

But just as you came, you hade to leave
You came by chance and you left like a leaf
on a autumm breeze that flows and brings
by chance its own fate and destiny
I thought we would set ourselves free
but you had your freedom without me
but you had your freedom without me...

Ah, o Futuro...

2010-12-02T13:40:00.001-02:00

Eu vou me despojar de tudo que criei
Eu vou desperdiçar o tempo que ganhei
Eu vou nadar no mar até eu me perder
Eu vou afundar até não achar você

Eu vou me perdoar por tudo que perdi
Eu vou me consolar com tudo que vivi
Eu vou te despejar até eu te perder
Eu vou te recriar até não ser você

Eu vou te construir sem você saber
Eu vou te possuir sem ao menos ter você
Eu vou te perdoar pra não lhe perder
Eu vou me rebaixar pelo meu querer

Eu vou achar razão em enlouquecer
Eu vou me manter são até eu ter você
Eu vou me perdoar por quase te perder
Eu vou me encontrar quando achar você

Armistice

2010-11-30T23:15:00.004-02:00

You never give me any peace
you only give an armistice
through the veil inside my eyes
I could only look where we met

You grab hold of me as a prisoner
the more I intend to leave
the more I'd like to stay
a branch upon the breeze, I sway

You rip my heart from my chest
an ancient Aztec sacrifice
you make me jump out of my nest
freedom within your cage, I pay the price...

You always give me a piece
of the calmness you emanate
through the guns raging outside
you're the shelter by my side

As our bodies clash like a bomb
I reveal myself, I come undone
As you see right through me
The sole compass of my destiny

An armistice is what I crave
you're the light outside the cave
For too long I believed the shadows
Now I jump as the abyss stares us...

A Ilha e o Tesouro

2010-11-27T23:37:00.003-02:00

E eu te encontrei logo quando me perdi
enquanto eu passeava assim calado
enquanto eu passava assim fadado
a um destino único e imprevisível.

E eu te encontrei quando não quis procurar,
Cansado e casado com a dor do acaso
fui indo assim como quem não quer nada
esperando que algum dia encontrará tudo...

E você me encontrou antes de se cansar,
e de procurar um motivo para repousar
suas asas exaustas, sua esperança quebrada
seu tempo perdido tentando se achar...

E eu te encontrei quando cansei da solidão
enquanto buscava alguém pra me dividir
e que tivesse sonhos que eu pudesse somar;
alguma ilusão que eu pudesse vivenciar...

E você me encontrou, assim como por acaso,
como quem quer tudo, sabendo não ter nada,
e que por algum motivo incompreensível,
encontra o que jamais almejou ter.

E Num Sussurro

2010-11-23T22:02:00.001-02:00

E num susurro,
você me surpreende
e me passa a informação
de um coral de mil vozes
cantando no mesmo tom...

as verdades que só são descobertas
num momento a sós,
e em que o tempo nos surpreende
por fazer do inesperado
e incalculado amor
uma rotina em si mesma...

E num sussurro,
você me diz
o que sempre me pareceu óbvio
porém nunca me foi presente

Coincidência

2010-11-21T00:49:00.002-02:00

Quando você me deixou,
chovia torrencialmente,
mas isso fora apenas
uma coincidência...

The Road Not Taken

2010-11-17T00:56:00.003-02:00

"TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood"

Robert Frost

the road not taken,
is the road i regret,
for the road that has not been taken
cannot be taken again,
for the time has passed
and the road is not the same
(nor will ever be
nor will i be the same again)

the road not taken
gives me the possibility
of working with the probability
of what has not been,
and with the odds i play -
and the odds i sway
with my will and my dusty dreams
to a place i haven't been
except inside my imagination on boring days of a forgotten winter or autumn...

the road not taken
leads me to places i've never been
yet i can't help but miss them...

Num Ponto de Ônibus.

2010-11-14T23:05:00.003-02:00

Em pé num ponto de ônibus
eu espero
e espero
pelo tempo que passa
pelo tempo que perco

Em pé num ponto de ônibus
eu espero
e espero
pois a esperança,
pobre ilusão de uma improbabilidade

Em pé num ponto de ônibus,
só me resta esperar...

At Night When Most of Us Are Fast Asleep

2010-11-04T21:50:00.002-02:00

At night when most of us are fast asleep,
(or trying to sleep, for all that matters)
few ones are awake with the eyes of an owl;
hiding from the light like a little mice,
fighting through the maze of empty streets
filled with broken bottles of beer and breast milk
that moves through the gutter straight down the drain...

moving slowly a man burns his hair and floats,
like an Angel with a message of hope and fear,
a prophet of the past with messages of the present
counting his time and space through the stars,
without guessing, he is sure of all that will happen
with every living soul except his one,
and he shouts
and no one listens
and he shouts that one will listen
(even though they have to)
and nothing changes
and nothing changes
and nothing changes
and nothing ever changes
in every single detail he perceives that things aren't the same
yet, nothing changes...

a child is being born under a broken lamp
a woman is now a mother under a broken lamp
and this broken lamp is the sole witness of the miracle of life,
without being able to shed its light
it sheds the tears of a Dreamer
who close its eyes
It clearly sees
and clearly realizes
the biggest Tragedy:
not being good enough to play the role the Dreamer always assumed s/he would take
but somehow s/he hasn't...
(also the baby cries and the mother sobs while calling an ambulance)
Both of them wait.

A prostitute and transvestite talk about that troubles of their days
and they laugh and rejoice
about the pain of the ones who are alive
and never asked to be born.
a car stops and they both go inside
it moves and it takes them beyond the horizon
and they all disappear between the fog and the smoke
with reason and directions unknown to the three of them,
but they just sense its a necessary detour
to the destiny they all have to fulfill,
which moves them forward
(but not necessarily towards)
to what they would call
Happiness
or any illusion of
Happiness.

While the Sun rises and everyone wakes up
the moon hides and everyone that happened to be awake,
look at the place where the Moon used to stay
with a longing expression deep inside their eyes.

O Tempo

2010-11-01T22:01:00.003-02:00

E tal qual fogo ao vento,
o amor chama e consome
por todo o momento
em que se faz presente
como se não fosse nada
sabendo-se ser tudo.

e o tempo passa desapercebido
sem qualquer ajuda ou intenção
e o que ocorre virará memória
por capricho ou convicção.

e o tempo passa despercebido
por entre tudo o que ao redor ocorre
passando por entre os dedos
eternizando o instante que corre...

e tal qual fogo ao vento,
chama que clama e consome,
criando instantes efêmeros
e ternas memórias eternas.

31/10

2010-10-30T01:36:00.001-02:00

Votar Dilma, 13 - pro país continuar mudando.

O Sol

2010-10-24T16:10:00.002-02:00

Algum dia o Sol,
como toda estrela,
irá explodir em si mesmo,
numa quarta-feira chuvosa
de outubro
ou daqui a um bilhão de anos;
o Sol não tem pressa,
nem cansaço,
afinal, ele sabe
(ou pensa saber)
que todo tempo que lhe resta
é o tempo que lhe é necessário.

Niterói em Poucas Palavras.

2010-10-15T23:52:00.004-03:00

E de madrugada,
a cidade fecha os olhos, porém sem dormir
tenta negar os sentidos, porém o cheiro ignora a indiferença
de todos os que tampam olhos narizes e bocas
e se alastra e se faz perceber,
e percebido, porém, torna-se ignorado;
reconhecido, porém esquecido.

E entre putas, cafetões e clientes,
há um comércio regular e honesto
por todas as partes, escambo de solidão,
sonhos perdidos, fluídos em camisinhas baratas,
segundos de prazer, traições e ilusões
tal qual uma feira de cidade pequena.

e os carros correm com vidros fechados
com olhos fixos no que vem a frente
sem jamais olhar pro lado ou pra trás,
(aliás, como? se a consciência, o saudosismo
e a curiosidade tem torcicolo?)

E os garotos dormem na rua,
com seus pais que já foram garotos como eles
com seus sonhos de cristal despedaçado
e sua torre de marfim com alicerce de papelão.

Existe amor nessa cidade,
só se requer para acha-lo
, um olhar atento e uma lupa...

Meteor Shower

2010-10-13T21:49:00.002-03:00

shoot me at the sky
a soviet satellite
aim me at the stars
like Laika I'll see

everything that is new
yet has been known for ages
everything that is secret
will be unraveled to me

through you...

our interstellar cliche
that lasts as much as a
meteor shower...

Às Quatro e Meia da Manhã

2010-10-10T14:13:00.005-03:00

Às quatro e meia da manhã
o tempo escorre pelos meus dedos
e você que era meu sossego
resolveu me importunar

E nessa cidade tudo passa
enquanto tudo é esquecido
os que não são lembrados
fazem questão de se afirmar

Às quatro e meia da manhã
enquanto as luzes se apagam
você acende seu cigarro
e o acesso me é negado

Às cinco e meia da manhã
enquanto as luzes se acendem
e cigarros são apagados
eu me retrato timidamente.

E o porta-retrato me diz
lendas de uma cidade esquecida
em que eu calçava 28
e não sabia amarrar o sapato.

E as janelas me dizem
histórias de uma cidade que não dorme
porém está sempre disposta
a acordar...

Banda nova, música nova.

2010-10-08T22:38:00.001-03:00

<a href="http://thebicyclethieves.bandcamp.com/track/mary-ann-or-how-i-learned-to-love-you-by-the-hour">Mary Ann (Or How I Learned To Love You By The Hour) by The Bicycle Thieves</a>

Glassblower

2010-10-06T23:27:00.002-03:00

Já que nessa vida não há nada de novo embaixo do Sol, então até dor de cotovelo se repete e os sentimentos são bem semelhantes, sendo assim, vou repostar um texto antigo, e vida que segue.

Glassblower

You've grabbed me
I was just a little mount of sand
And I was cool with that, you know?

And you, as an artisan,
turned me into a beautiful work of glass
with all that useless cold sand that used to be me

You crafted, patiently,
a beautiful heart that could feel
an heart that could beat

You blew your purest air
You used your purest soul
And carefully crafted a heart of my own

(It took a long, my friend
to make that heart beat for you
But it eventually did)

But as most things aren't perfect
and artisans are perfectionists
you saw some flaws on my (yours?) heart

And those flaws were all of them
unbearable, unbelievable
and being so...

As tradition tells and you are
traditional as hell...
You had to do what you had to do

Whenever a glass blown by
a glassblower, isn't good enough
they have to terminate it

Being so, as my heart was totally honest
but not perfect enough for you
you had to break my heart of glass

The same heart that I never asked to have
For I was kinda of happy being only sand
But I was already loving this heart of ours

Nevertheless, you just grabbed it from my chest
Inconsiderately, without asking me,
you took it away (just as you did when you gave it to me)

Now, I'm back on being only sand
Sad for being broken-heart
And longing for another glassblower to find me

22/05/2008

Impossibilidades.

2010-09-30T20:33:00.002-03:00

Sempre tive um apreço por coisas improváveis
porém, nunca gostei de coisas
que me parecem impossíveis,
por isso não corro atrás de amores perdidos
nem tento resolver cubo mágico.

Bodas de Ouro (parte II)

2010-09-26T01:04:00.002-03:00

Querida, eu ainda me lembro,
estava quente como sempre
em uma noite de novembro
aqui nas ruas de Niterói.

E o acaso, por capricho,
me fez esbarrar em ti;
as palavras no silêncio
os segundos vindo por extenso...

E você me ensinando devagar
que amar é esquecer
a própria solidão.

Pois é, minha querida
o tempo tal qual intemperismo
nos forneceu rugas
porém, ainda a vejo linda.

E a Rotina, fácil e passageira
perdida feito grãos de poeira,
por todo o tempo que minha mente alcança
me trouxe felicidade e esperança.

E você me ensinando devagar,
que amar é esquecer
a própria solidão.