segunda-feira, 22 de novembro de 2021

if the sun induces disorder your silence is an order to die trying:

one I have forgotten.  


if one can count seconds, heartbeats and deception

once detected deep in the surface of one's soul, 

to one each another least he be left alone

warm and cosy by the fire during winter

can one count exceptions?


I am a tree

I breath through roots

my torso bares fruit

my leaves feed masses

my branches shelters those musings at ease

musicians and lovers alike, I nest they here

where the Life cycle is on it's merry way

do wave an hello on your way to believe it?


the chambers of my veins a house

to hallow vanity creeping in

a fault in the divine design, all my feelings acute

to bursts of melody, agitated for the walls are dim,

curvy and cold to the touch: caffeine occupies the throne


bliss got me thinking I am my worse enemy; 

I heard it somewhere before, 'I am a tree' 

and from there came symphony 

a compromising melody:

''Do come visit me

sit under my lover's chiseled breast

and please,

do sing me a fairytale as I (we have poisoned that well)

a nesting shelter provide, 

season dependent, 

to all species kind

Proving one exchanges rumor, gossip and talk of the world

seeing you are passing by and I

chose not to uproot and leave

the worm would miss me, the birds would need me, the humans would remember me by

that very thought will suffice.''


I am a tree

from a speck of dirt, water and seed

we are a desk, a bed, a wardrobe and a walking stick

as gods they judge and decimate but we accommodate

we are a home

a beam of hope, a sturdy boat, an uncompromising forest. 

we are books a plenty, we are fuel for the fire

we are the coal that elevates the human race

the fences that now infest the very fields that feed the masses

we are still very much needed and yet no cry is heard in the wind.


the fig tree in my back garden was a family friend, you see

joining in at the Play, our mother once said Angie was just that,

a distant, reserved relative of sorts: those quirky and silent ones

deemed felt in made believe, in a howl commendable dance pledge to the breeze

dances at midnight mid hurricane at the heart of summer in a crescent, obviously

misunderstood and yet firm and forgiving, of my naivety and gaiety 

robust in face of my torment and selfish recourse of take, take, take


Angie's was besieged, defaced and taken away in a single day

relish the contrast in mourning for want it makes the good times

cruel if not more vivid, the rain soon followed as I knew it should.

From the cinder ashes a seed to which a speck of water brought new life

on that Autumn day 20 years and a day ago I made a promise I intend to keep

truer than my prior arrangement ever fleeting of farewells and hellos

to hang in a tread and common souls from Levi's arms and bound anew

to keep the cycle activated my own new family and little ones by default

should too be introduced to an old family friend, back Home.


My bad hand rubs the top of my head

the god's given one limps at the side

lazy by birth, unskilled by trade, silent in defiance.

the ceilling of knowledge of leaking

which pronoun proposes a more preposterous proposition 

than to wear a helmet does good in keeping harm at bay

which restless, wrestles a jolt at my presence

stroke down at my centre, an epitome of gull 

strangler of peace, the blood price on minor print

a secret and life lesson well kept it seems for fools

wear crowns and wage war to too sustain the charade

of pain for security, in safety on the believe the contrary be folly

misguided, in fact, tyrannical and perhaps maniacal even. 


why practise a common tongue if signals will do

why risk missing a target if tangents will do

we do not share the same tastes, 

I love coffee she sells tea. 


karma police has thought raided my temple,

my dignity and my spirit unchained and given new identity

on my way to believing I am entirely the wrong pale shade of crazy

ashamed they are out there hiding from me, reborn, led to lands unknown

to start fresh is an opportunity given enough time

said learning curve can too be brief in a shallow peak

if not breached, snapped in half in remorse.

feet cold, hands wet, hair tight and chest looped in a twist

mixed messages are a crucible of meeting crossroads playing slots. 


needing the jurisdiction of supervision

revisited by proper architects 

this temple is on the verge of collapse;

the rebuild in limbo, a prolapse a waste of time

articles converge: 'It is going forward' // 'Changes are being considered' // 

'Project been abandoned indefinitely seeing the boss man fled with the foreman's daughter to Brazil' 


there is a man

by the window

fixing a light

on the building

opposite mine

by the third floor

or is it the second 

by the count, however

they do things differently

in America where all is

well, holy Mecca of self-made

sharpen teeth up takers church

goers of dreams reality a plenty

gold replaces blood as a living commodity

and diamonds are cheap

pray forgive

my misconception

trickery ill-devised

 It is Africa

I intended to allude to

a cursed box

flawed piece of earth

where children mine

hard grafters of hardy stock

drifters, family breadwinners

angels in the making

born to die granted

but forced to the gates sooner at no added cost

get these particulars which names

minerals of necessity

fragments of misconduct

that one cannot replicate if not told

informed about the new strange ways

that the World rules itself sideways

so that the man

which so soon and efficiently

swapped these office lights

across the road

mission accomplished

my object of admiration

fled the scene!

a parting gift,

the now working office lights

Christmas lights in fact

are left on

on a cold morning

clear November heights

yellow bashes yellow

on the building, by the window, opposite mine.


these are the sort of things I come up with

when I sit by a clear cold November day

without a shade or clouds to distract 

a buzz in the curve beneath my existential

empiric soul, I want to own it all for myself

to abuse, shove along and fall in love

may tragedy and filth surge all at once

wash all over me just to feel how it feels

I bet I wouldn't do it so (I confess I did poison the well)

I might just forget that's all that I want

all of someone for myself

I write it to Santa but never ship it

never sent

never even left my lips

kept it all to myself: start to finish.

quinta-feira, 11 de novembro de 2021

go away 

there, I said it

 more than an afterthought

certain that I don't regret it, holy spirit

from distress we cannot escape

roped in to tremble along the walls 

of our inner shell far beneath the heart

if your voice is the addition I cannot divide

what I cannot fathom to begin to understand


the stomach butterflies are long dead

as the ash nibbles at my ankles

I sink to my knees

for one without crossroads

has to brave the unbeaten green pasture

an unforgiving path or so I perceive

to stand not a stance against chance 

for change is a peel of the wound far too soon


when, why, where, what:

transcended touch?

the transaction was interrupted, a defect causes a return

getting addicted to a foul mood induces rage

coming along for the bumpy ride

I don't think I am crazy,

rather, I pray I am immortal

invincible and condemned

I dream of a state of despair

goddammed to mob the floor in chains

it satisfies to put oneself down

along for the bumpy ride.

segunda-feira, 1 de novembro de 2021

waking up to the thought of violence making it to second base.

 cold allies with chill beacons of winter 

said winter flirts with November mid Fall

Mondays are superior by human design

for what matters you see

is not the name but the timing

order and misery of being dead first

a solemn freaky weekly occasion of fucking it up

to norm, a mourn stare moan and sigh

expel expendable little breath at will

can one pour on draft to match the steady rain?

do rein in your misery dear

no booze or drugs for me either,

I prefer my sufferings raw

a sobering kept on check and on tap

the sirens contradict my rights

obscured by bleak binds 

pins, needles and dirty nails curve my spine

scratch my gums, untried tasteful mental decline

animals in disarray breakout of their cage at night

to party alongside me. 

so I dream it vividly

so I deem it right.

a trip out not a ladder nor a scale

less of a bright slide or a trampoline that's wet

a bridge awaits without reproach when it is dark outside

for one to be careless and awake caring perhaps

a little less, for to forgo fate is to deny

that if one cannot save oneself and wish to burn,

others too cannot save them.