The emptiness of that embrace

Between untimely calls and taxis

Eggs and capuccinos and avocados

And other fancy named 

Nutrient less snacks and gibberish

Were you even there for a second?

Have you ever been there at all?

I love your burgundy shirt

The one that looks so fancy and tidy

But needs to be covered by a sweater

Because it is full of holes and stains

I love your burgundy shirt

The one your dad gave you

Just before he died

Because he loved to see you looking

Smart and beautiful as you are

As i do...

I love your burgundy shirt

And i wonder if i'll ever get to see it again.

Ser Luzia

Ser Luzia

A lúcida

A sábia

A bruxa

A maga

A que cuida

E a que apaga

A que rejeita

Mas também afaga

A que repete

E nunca acaba

Clareza crua

Ante a vida 

Que corre nua

Implacável

Terrivelmente bela.

Who's afraid of the big bad body?

Bodyless zombies

Drifting around, numb

Crashing into each other

Looking for solutions

That will never come

For problems that never were

In their overflowing heads

So detached from the senses

They can't even realize

Their own pain

Their own smell

Their own taste

Their own touch

Bodies screaming

Look at me!

Let me guide you!

I know!

No reply

No movement

Thoughts

And more thoughts

Strategies

Games

Distractions...

Divine creatures

Walking miracles

Gifted with

So much life

And possibilities

Forgetting

How enormously

Wonderful

And complete

And wise

They always were.

The cowerdice

Of emotional sabotage

The saddness 

Of lost opportunity

The emptiness

Of fading connection

The shame

Of feared intimacy

The waste

Of love and joy...

- Oh fuck it! 

I belong to the mushrooms

And the bugs and the leaves

Decomposing

Mycellic erotic poems

I belong to the bones

Stone tantric deities

Fairies, rivers and trees

Strawberries and mandrakes

I belong to the mud

And the ocean

To the rain

And the rays of sun

That burn the naked skin

Of my earthly amphibiic vessel

Laying on the wet green

I belong to the joy of living

And the alchemized pain

The lusty paradox of the in between

I belong to myself

- the raw nature of the Mother.

I might never fit

That visually clean

Petticoat aesthetic

Lifestyle of yours

The tidy white shirts

Matching tidy white wives

Unborn pre-ordered souls

Delivered by sterilized seringes

Flawless B&W scripts

Of a never before seen

Narcisistic soap opera

And its respective spreadsheets

Where love becomes a contract

Full of rules and regulations

To pretend not to be broken

From scratch

The illusion of control

Cutting edge creations

Turned into endlessly 

Exhausting online meetings

Tragic bank slips

And crypto catastrophes

Sick dogs

And ruthless mourning

- Oh the back pain

And the hair cuts

And all that post-colonial art

Squeezed into

Mass distribution channels

The irreproachable climbing

Of the highest million dollar

Stressful profession ladder

On your way to fame and stardum

Or stardust...

Where in the end

We all meet and fit together

As one

As always.

How does the human heart break?

It doesn't.

It gets wounded

Scratched

Scarred

Scared

Sad

But it does not break.

It might be teared

Ripped

Dragged

Dumped

Stepped on

Smashed

Squeezed

Tighten

Harden

But it does not break

For it is the strongest 

Spiral pumping

Cornucopia muscle

In the entire universe!

It really just needs to be fed

For though it might not break

If one does not love enough

It stops.

You don't get to decide

If i'm happy or sad

Lucid or mad

No, you don't get to decide

If I'm aroused

Or if I ache

If I crave

Or if I fake.

You don't get to decide

If I'm in love or in rage

If I chose freedom to a cage

No, you don't get to decide

And you might pretend not to feel

Treat me as a doll that isn't real

But it's all illusion

A story you tell

By the end of the day

When the night embraces

With her shining dark veil

Your mind finally surrenders

Your heart warmly remembers

It is you the one enchanted

Under my magic love spell

- and, in your dreams, you smile.

Love Love

Not the person 

Not the place

Not the smell

Nor the trace

Love Love

Not the taste

Nor the texture

Or the embrace

Love Love

Not the voice

Not the music

Nor the sound

Love Love

Not the journey 

Not the moment

Nor the life

Love Love

And be free. 

Bday poem

To let the armor down

Feel the breeze

Love the life. 

Maria, Maria

Maria, Maria 

É um dom, uma certa magia, 

Uma força que nos alerta 

Uma mulher que merece viver e amar 

Como outra qualquer do planeta 

Maria, Maria 

É o som, é a cor, é o suor 

É uma dose mais forte e lenta 

De uma gente que ri quando deve chorar 

E não vive, apenas aguenta 

Mas é preciso ter força 

É preciso ter raça 

É preciso ter gana sempre 

Quem traz no corpo a marca 

Maria, Maria 

Mistura a dor e a alegria 

Mas é preciso ter manha 

É preciso ter graça 

É preciso ter sonho sempre 

Quem traz na pele essa marca 

Possui a estranha mania 

De ter fé na vida.

de Milton Nascimento