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segunda-feira, 21 de maio de 2012

Pretension


I was mad
Mad of all this pretension
From people who doesn't let be touched
Into their deep human being

I often face myself
Changing my mind about them
Thinking, they could be the best of themselves
But they are not

The reason?
Go forward this things
About pretending to be

How a genius turn into an unawareness person
Selecting different behaviours
For different people?

How young people hide their truly feelings
Letting to be dictated by their surround?

But looking back to my mirror
I calm down
Explaining to myself
I also lived those moments
Trying to find who I am
The real me, with no excuses for don't to be it

Finally, I also learned from those them
I also know that these was
A necessary stage to let
Bloom the maturity that incomplete is still
And lots yet have to grow naturally in me

One year. One transformation


Ten months go away faster than you think
When I arrive here all  seems so different
First seemed a dream, then a lonely nightmare
With no friends, with a life to learn again
I found happiness in what new could be
So I tried hard to share my better part
And suddenly this became part of me
Country that it is not easy to leave
Dreams turn in to real life, lived day by day
This is the super moon that shines in me

Four letters poem


I run in Jose's home
With mice an the door
They stare at me, mean
Why Jose left me here?

And how much more I run
More cold I turn
Silly mice makes noise
And idea pass in my mind
And if a cat I was?

My turn will come
And you mice will run

The Clock


Right on the top
Ringing the bell think I have heard the clock
Bouncing in the dark
Marking the time strike
Into my deep sleep
The beezing sound attacks

Tic-Tac
Look back
Bing-Bang
The dreams came

Putting a cloak
On the top of the clock
I try to sleep again
But the bell struck
And I can't

So I rock back and forth
Standing up to stop the clock

sábado, 19 de maio de 2012

Blackbird


The flag burn out
in the fire dancing have fur
prolonging anguish in that scene was me

Flooded smoke  inside out
and I was trying to see him

Blackbird starts to sing quite
Despondent breathing hard through his lungs
Calling help save me  from suffering

And nevertheless his spirit still around
Brightening paths with his memoirs where giving up
Was not an option, flying free was always more
Flew he did 'til futile was, not leaving the beauty
Sang, sang... No despair appearing... Peaceful being
No matter how tired he got  


sexta-feira, 27 de abril de 2012

Mr. Clown


            I went into an old, rusty, yellowish white trailer. Mr. Clown was sitting in a chair in front of the mirror, but his expression didn't look as happy as it had on the stage a few minutes ago.  In the back of the trailer I could see his bed, not well-made, and on his nightstand vessels with flowers, red and white roses, and a portrait of an adorable girl. Besides that his room was very simple. A small wood closet, two different colored clown shoes, and some books on a shelf. The books were all children's books, and few of them mathematics. I don't know why a Clown would at least enjoy calculus, but this one does.
            I don't think he noticed my father's and my quiet entrance into the trailer, so I come close to him and pushed his white, yellow and red striped cape. Mr. Clown looked down towards me with a tired, and distracted smile. I will never forget his bright blue eyes, so deep that they seemed fake... Brighter than the most clear blue sea that you can find.
            "Nice to meet you, Mr. Clown. I am Mr. Peterson and this is my 10-year-old daughter Estrela, and my youngest, Luna," my father said.     
            "Hi..." said Mr. Clown, standing up. His head reached six feet tall, while his body was thinner, but strong.
            "Well, I hope I'm not bothering you Mr. Clown, but my daughter Estrela insisted we come to meet you, no matter what."
            "Yes, yes, you have to teach me how you did that magic with the scarves, Mr. Clown!" I said, more excited than anything.
            And finally he looked at me with some sparkle in his eyes.
            "What is your favorite color?"
            Suddenly Luna started to yell: "I want cotton candy, Daddy... I want cotton candy, now! Listen, that is the noise of the cotton car near..."
            "Well, I guess Estrela will be in good hands for a few minutes, won't she Mr. Clown?"
            "Don't worry, Mr. Peterson, I have some tricks to teach her. Go ahead and give some cotton candy to this little lady. I heard our cotton candy is made from clouds, direct from the sky... but don't tell anyone that I told you this!"
            So, my dad and Luna left.
            When I arrived Mr. Clown was taking off his make up, and now I could see the scar in his face. It was a rough surface in the middle of a soft baby skin burned from the sun.  While he was teaching me the tricks, I couldn't stop staring at his scar.
            "I am sorry, Mr. Clown, for the scar in your face," I said, feeling bad for him.
            "Don't be sorry, little kid. I got this scar for a good reason, and if was necessary I'd do it again."
            "Poor Mr. Clown, poor Mr. Clown. You don't know what you are saying... that is the saddest thing to say... who would desire to be hurt so violently like that?"
            "Oh, Estrelinha, when you love with all your heart, you don't think twice..."
            "Who did you love, Mr. Clown?"
            "My daughter Sky, little girl..."
            "Don't you love her anymore? Where is she? It would be amazing to have another kid to play with."
            "She is gone. I got this scar trying to take her off from a claws of a lion. But as you can see all that I got was a scar."
            "Is that her?" I pointed to the portrait over his nightstand.
            "Yes," he said, holding his hands always in his thigh while he talked to me. I noticed his hands were sweating and didn't stop shaking when he tried to gesture.
            So I held his hand, and said: "You know, Mr. Clown, I am pretty sure your daughter still laughs so much at your tricks... What kid doesn't love clowns?"
            "You remind me of my daughter so much, Estrelinha. That is exactly what she would say. I became a clown for her, little girl..."
            "Really? You are so good, I thought clowns were born clowns!"
At this moment he looked at me like he had done something really bad and wrong. But quickly he recomposed himself, smiled gently, and said:
            "Well, I believe that is what normally happens to clowns. But I did become a clown, because my daughter loved clowns. It is my way to make my daughter laugh... I listen to her laugh when other kids laugh."
            "Oh, Mr. Clown, if that is the reason, I am sure no children would care, and will forgive you. Well, I do."
            And for the first time I heard his true laugh sounding loud, relaxed, and warm, he hadn't laughed for so long. I know he is a clown, but that laugh was different from the one I heard in the stage. Definitely better.
            "You are so innocent, little girl... The world needs the naivety of a child to have true happiness. I've been travelling around this country for two years and I haven't seen more truth and peace than in a child's face."
            "Well, it is not because I am a child, but because my father taught me that I never should lie. Dad always said if we are honest, all good things will come, in the right time."
            "All fathers should be like yours. I am tired of seeing parents so busy and angry with their children. They never give attention to them. They bring them to the circus, but never enjoy the presence of a pure life like yours. They forget the magic before colors, scarves, flowers. Their eyes are sceptical, in a world where no simple things are important. Simple moments with their kids can be the most unique. A moment that will never came back. They don't realize how a lifetime it is not enough to be with someone you love. Sometimes a loved one is taken away."
            At this moment I looked to the ceiling, trying to imagine his daughter Sky. And at that point I noticed that his ceiling was painted half with clouds and half with stars, representing the day and the night, like the real sky. And in the middle has a Scripture saying:
            "...Bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace."
            I did not know what exactly that meant. But I bet this had something to do with the anger of parents, when I read the word bearing. So I said:
            "Yes, Mr. Clown we should bear with one another in love... Love it is that makes us understand how no one is perfect and we learn to love them even not being perfect."
            "So true, little girl... And I feel peace inside, because the ceiling reminds me that my child it is part of me, came from me, and her Spirit and mine will always be like one, a unity that cannot be separated."
            Suddenly I heard a knock in the door, and my dad coming in saying that it was time to go. The last hug is always the hardest one, but I gave it with all my heart and the strongest that I could to Mr. Clown.
            And he answered, hugging me and whispering:
            "Thank you for wanting to know more than me as Clown, but what is going on inside of a Clown. Nice to meet you, my name is Mr. Smiff."
            And Luna started to push me to show the amazing cotton candy and the picture that she got.
After I left I start to think how funny it was, because seems so simple for Mr. Smiff to trust that his daughter didn't leave him. But trust it is something that I do have for people that I love, so it do make sense. And when you know that someone truly loves you, you trust that person, you trust that she is never gonna leave you.
While Estrela thought about what happened during that conversation, Mr. Clown went out from his trailer and lay down in the grass. He was with an endless smile, letting the grass absorb him, remembering how his daughter lived as intense as she could. They enjoyed at the last moment together.  Oh, how she loved the beauty of spring, the green from the grass. Oh, how Estrela saved him to fall into oblivion.

quinta-feira, 26 de abril de 2012

All that today and now can be

Happiness is more than a feeling
It is not something that goes away
It leave marks

Cars
That run without a clear direction
But running still
With all abstraction

Where what does matter
It is that you take possesion
Of all that today and now can be

And the happiness from the past
Suddenly turn into memories
That you make alive
A perpetual fire
Where the conquest is not the destination
But the journey that brought you there