Sunday, November 25, 2012

Act I

You ask me all those questions that make my stomach grab the inside of my body in a vain attempt to scape from panicking... 
I look at you trying to configure a new code of relating to establish boundaries I don't believe exist.
More I feel your skin, more I urge for us to become one, and this irrationality shakes all conventionalities around... 
I can no longer hold on to what I've learned so far. 
Everything is so new as if I never lived before. 
All that was, is irrelevant and even funny to look at... 
A mockery for a past and you as a present. 
I don't know how can I ever be so grateful as to deserve such happiness... 
So I let all fall down to prove my misery's right... 
Fuck that shit and I jump high to see you from above and slap your face every time you try to re create failures... 
Looking through lenses of desires I see you perfect. 
Talking to my hand today, I figured the puzzle we draw to maintain away any sign of nostalgia. 
I love you from every angle but my aim is poor. 
I practice focus to keep your presence and your charming smile at sight. 
I need to practice us to know all the lines that form what we are by heart. 
In memorizing our shapes being becomes organic and all the sounds make sense. 
We don't need to repeat words to put up the show. 
The spectacle is our silence, staring out the window, not having to know...
Let the curtain rise!

Saturday, November 17, 2012


Love Street Art
When I first heard you,
I could feel the future... 
It was made of all those dreams I've been carrying on for lives.
When I am close to you,

I can see in your eyes that I live in that reflection.
I spend evenings creating cliches phrases to describe what I feel for you.
They come late and
stumbling on other thoughts, they get lost, before I can speak... 
They become sweat when I see you. 
Sweating those words I hope they can be written on your body when I squeeze you with a visceral embrace. 
I want them tattooed on your skin so you won't forget the effect you have on me.
When you go away, I repeat to myself your stories so they can become your presence in mental verses that entertain the long hours that insist on keeping us apart.

Some days the fears that bounds us whisper tales to my ears, contradicting all the love poems we create together when tangling our bodies in our late night dances...
From far away I see you hiding behind the turbulence of new emotions
My soul scream for you to dive into their waves, but my body swims away with a naive intention to protect my heart. 
In vain my arms try to reach shore not knowing the heart that once beat inside me is long pounding in your ears... 
According to your own pace...
From here, lacking oxygen in every cell, I can only observe still, hoping someday the music will start again... 

On one of those late nights with so much, so much... I love you.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012


I understand not being understood.

I know the feeling of bizarre compassion.

I know the end of every story.

I crave skins and whispers.

I count the dots on the subway floor to avoid thinking of my painful flesh.

I hear sounds everywhere to stop the silence telling me the truth.

I write nonsense in verses to calm down the years of violence and confusion.

I see you through magic eyes to bear the look in your face.

I consistently am inconstant to survive the boredom I taste when I lack enthusiasm. Normally it happens in empty mornings when the light is still cold.

I cover my feet with funny shoes to distract judging concepts and foolish behaviors.

I give imaginary hugs to old people talking by themselves in the subway.

I love them all.

I suffer imagining their lonely lives when windy nights wake them up.

I walk fast to leave behind the thoughts that wake me up every night.

I walk fast to live behind you.

I scream to deaf hearts conjugating wrong verbs to maintain the confusion that allows me to be left behind.

I adore claiming guts and daring rats.

Tell me a secret and the world will know it.

Give me love and I'll laugh like a bird fucking a tree.

Call me dear and I read you your fortune.

Just leave me alone and I stop writing... (lies).

Friday, August 12, 2011

Under Construction...

Waiting for the Change that may let you be comfortable around me.
I write my feeling in lose drawings Hoping they can speak to you about all that I'm still to discover.
Like the lost line of a cheap movie I dream in silence hoping you can see it screened in my forehead how much you make me want to be better. Even though that concept is so overrated and abstract...
I try to find in me any feeling that would be for something outside, but all I wish is to transform something in me. And that notion only makes me want to run away. I want to be ignored by you and all the songs that seems written for my being...
Now all those men whose walk gave me butterflies all over my heart are all invisible and mute. The word desire is only letters in an old flyer about sexy girls selling worthless pleasure.
I chose the Bounce back see-through wall I built around me. It bounces all the energy back and I feel full again. So full that I have to consciously open holes in my fingertips so it can flow away somewhere. It is love. A word. A drop of a nectar so concentrated yet light. A nectar that contaminates all around killing whatever is not open to it.
Blah, the blahs keep forcing themselves into my consumed brain that has no place to anything else anymore. My heart took it over and has all the weapons necessary to turn it all into insanity. A brain full of heart is the most dangerous tool to destroy a myth...
And I bubble throughout the city, bumping into the unseen and drained walking heads, and I look somewhere to touch and feel something similar to what I carry with me and too many times I end up kissing my shoulder. You didn't have the right to be so kind and honest! You didn't have the right to be open and secure as if all was right! You mean, insensitive, indifferent worm!...
And it all bounces back at me, throwing my arrogance to the floor and letting me dizzy wondering what to do next as a kid in time out sobbing in their room not knowing what they are suppose to learn.
I know is all here. Just don't know what yet.
I know the end of the story, it just never ceases to be, there's always a next page. We can turn it over and over again, but we won't be able to read it. It's like every new page has a new language and we will only understand and learn it once that page is all over. We can only read the past.
Blah, blahs. "Be as you are!"

Sunday, November 14, 2010

3:33 pm

Some love fight context
Mine fight the stars
I think of you and my brain freezes
I long for you as my body tries to scape
I love for you hoping it will be enough for both
I embrace our story as destiny without miracles
I continue seeking paradoxes that were long ago solved
I keep your intense wanting as a proof of your care for me
I ay inside not realizing the sounds won't get quieter as time goes by
Your skin dresses all I ever wanted
But fear stands in our way as bubbles distracting young eyes
When there
are distance the floor shakes under me
When distance shortens everything stops, acknowledging your presence
All gets so tight that the I love you I keep for you gets stuck between our gaze
And in the rush to make all right, we lose the present, forcing our souls to look out in other directions
It wasn't my back you saw running away again
I was just giving you distance to savor my love
Such a pity, it is so tasteless now...

Wednesday, August 25, 2010


You have a fan you know?
You could have a fan and a fan to fan you
You only have a fan that fans you
And when the summer is over, you will have a fan that won't fan you
Unless your have a bad fan
You could have a fan that would turn off your bad fan when you're cold when the summer is over
A fan to applaud you when you do something great
A fan to blow your mind
To turn your breath up side down
A fan to laugh at your ways
To cool you down when you breakdown
Now you have a fan and a fan
And the fan that fans you right now is too boring
It does the same movement over and over again
You could have a fan to break your patterns
To mess up with your same manners
To follow your basic colors
A fan to warm you up
To put you on your knees
To play as it pleases
A fan to spin you around
To reject any bound
A fan to leave you behind
To be mean and kind
To be trouble and winy
A fan all over the place
I am
I fan you!

Monday, August 2, 2010


1- Third Floor or Torta
No 3° andar eu fui toda errada. Eu te procurei. Eu quiz que vocĂȘ me
Quizesse torta...
Um beijo


2- US
I was there
Nothing to say...
Waiting on a fucking dirty street for that little moment of poetry
Drunk empty..: us ...