Dead Bones

I have an image of a calm ocean in my mind.
I wish my body was immersed in it.

Down at the bottom
In the darkness,
I would find peace,
Silence.

Silence from all the words that would be better not spoken.
Silence from all the noise we'd be better not hearing.
Silence from the pain we don't want to experience.

No destructive thoughts,
No slaughterous dreams and fears.

An embrace from the serene waters of the earth till my heart was completely still,
Surrounded by nature,
Mother Nature.
Mother.

Cold freedom,
Supporting my weight,
Forever gripping my dead bones.

Você

Você,
Que me econtrou no vazio da escuridão,
No silêncio da solidão.

Você,
Que me mostrou o caminho cheiroso,
Das florestas de flores cheirosas, amorosas, carinhosas.

Que me constrói aos poucos,
Me concerta aos muitos.

Que me calou daquelas descontentes canções,
Que me mostrou a orquestra do amor cantável.

Me leva para o reino do prazer;
Para o lago de poções sensíveis;
Para o nascer contente de afecto constante.

Quero seu calor insaciável
Leve deitado em minha pele.
Que não vive sem a sua,
Não respira sem seu inspiro,
Não dorme sem seu corpo a me cercar.

Time

Time is not money, that is what capitalism wants us to believe.

Time is experience.

Time is construction.

Time is life.

Use it wisely with what you love and you wont loose your mind with Botox, thinking your life is running out. 

It is only running forwards. 

Sky

The hot orange light was running through that white endless ground.

Like thick snow that was touched only by natural forms as wind and rain, that uneven surface looked like another planet.

If somewhere up, down, right or left, from where we live, there is a heaven, this is what it must look like.

That linear horizon filled with joyful colour looked alive, several floors of white smudginess.

Far away everything seemed completely still and smooth, a waveless lake of milk.

Like a happy dog meeting sand for the first time, I wanted to throw myself around that infinite clear bed of white unworn sheets.

It doesn't matter how many times I fly,

It doesn't matter how many times my eyes meet the clouds, the rainy days, the dark nights or early mornings.

I will always worship this mysterious beauty we call sky.

Water

Our bodies will weaken,



Our bones will fail us,



Our hearing get lost,




But our eyes will still
water



At the beauty that is this world.

How Lovely Would Be

They would think she was already getting used to it, but the embarrassment of being a level lower than humanity, after all those years, was still present in her gut.
The sweat was running through her neck while she struggled to rest on the back of the wheelchair.
A young girl passed by her... The laugh and amusing energy brought her an enjoyable sensation of youth again.
How lovely would be to have had a child, and maybe grandchildren...
Her biggest regret was having been selfish in the past. There was no joy in her life, but to see other people's happiness.
The announcement sounded and someone carried her to the seat in the plane.

How lovely would be to have had a child.

Like

I like the corner of your neck.
I like my touch on your back.
I like my head on your chest.

I don't want to leave.

I like my eyes upon yours.
I like your fingers in my hair.
I like the sound of your breath.

I don't want to leave.

Come

Come.

Come.

Come with me,

To the edge of the sea.

Lie me down

On the new born grains,

Of white honest sand.

Let me drown

In the smell of your neck,

In the sheets of your bed,

With the touch of your skin

I want to get lost

On the darkness of deeper waters,

On that smile that makes me drunk,

On that taste that relaxes my soul

The wind is blowing away the lies.

I am learning to be myself,

With another.

The waves are dancing around,

Our bodies swinging with the music

Come.

Come.

Come with me,

To the edge of the sea.

4:30am

Wet rainy noise fills my stuffy unlit flat.

My throat hearts,

I cannot sleep,

But that bad loneliness I used to feel is not around.

It sounds complete.

I want to stay,

On my own.

Home is warm and outside is cold,

Uncertain,

Dark,

Windy.

Your smell in my pillow comforts me.

I don't know if it will last,

But your spontaneity attracts me more every day.

That city light is starting to shine trough my window.

Wide opened eyes,

I'm too excited to sleep.

Excited for living every second,

Breathing every particle of this early morning air.

It's Sensible

It's sensible

Hearable

Smellable

I can feel when I see them

See it from a distance

That energy

The compassion

The openness

The will to live

The love for stage

The crave to act

Today I met a director on the tube...

He walked in with his warm smile,

We exchanged a couple of words

Till we realised we had pretty much everything in common.

I chose to leave on the second most complicated station option

I wanted to talk to him for hours

Our creative words met in the middle of that loud jubilee line

He had 2 blue balloons,

Gave me one.

He had falafels,

Offered me some.

He had the stile.

It's sensible

Hearable

Smellable

I wanted to talk to him for hours

But I had to end it with that hand shake

Nice to meet you,

Goodbye.

Beauty

Sometimes life presents me with such beauty that makes me forget all my past complains.

A child playing with his grandfather caught my eyes and heart today. Very white moustache, wise eyes hidden behind the round thick glasses, slow walk... But so much happiness to relate to that kid...

The little boy ran around with his big head, thin body, and infinite energy.

The contrasting characteristics were completing each other on that sunny afternoon.

The sea breeze of a hot night,

The singing of crickets,

Hot sun against my skin,

A complementary fruit from a small restaurant in another island.

Nature just has too much to offer and sometimes I don't even know if I'm worthy to take so much beauty.

Born Perfect

We loose ourselves with the years

Born perfect

Honest

Energetic

Excited

Explorers

Grow to stupid

Analytic

Scared

Addicted

Lazy

Fake

Lets be children forever.

He Mumbles

He mumbles
Moving his loose lips as if it wasn't intentional
As if it was coming out from his furious stomach

His eyes portray rage
Eyebrows curved and tense in the centre of his face

He is holding something
An old paper cup maybe 

His eyes don't fix on anything
They just swim on the surface 

He's still mumbling
Closed body language
Oversized rain coat
Old jeans
Curved shoulders

It's been 1 hour and he is still standing there
In front of the massive old building
The beauty of the architecture clashes with the pain in his eyes 

He is still mumbling
His body sways from one side to the other occasionally

People walk by
They don't want to see it
They ignore
Same way they ignore the grandness of the building lost on the grey clouds

My curiosity grows bigger every second
I want to know this creature
I want to follow him daily
See what he likes
What he hates
Where he goes

But my fear stops me from talking to him
Stops me from looking into his eyes
I am embarrassed of my easy happy life
This clean thick window protects me from that unknown anger
Not in a good way