Amor Incompleto

Eu ouço os segundos passando,
mas sei que não é o tempo de verdade,
porque já faz uma eternidade,
que por você estou esperando.

Eu vejo o desabrochar das flores,
mas sei que não é a primavera,
porque meu coração não acelera,
não mais quer saber de outros amores.

Eu sinto a chuva cair escorrer no meu rosto,
mas sei que esta chuva não cai do céu,
porque os versos que escrevo neste papel,
representam apenas um sentimento suposto.

Eu digo que pro amor não tenho coragem,
mas sei que nem a mim eu engano,
porque eu quero dizer que te amo,
assim que nossos corações se encontrarem.

Sambe, meu amor

E é dela
esse coração que fala,
esse coração que grita.
Passa dia, a alegria
só me deixa dizer
que é dela
todos esses sonhos,
composições incompletas,
melodias das mais belas
e o cheiro dessas flores.
Mas é dela
também as incertezas,
a solidão que vem da natureza
e o rosto triste de noite, a chorar.
Eu sou dela.
Mostro me encolhendo em um canto,
pensando tanto, enquanto canto
a musica que me faz gritar.
Escudo dela,
protejo contra todos os tremores,
jogo-me a frente de tiros certeiros,
uso meus punhos se eu precisar.
Somente ela,
incorpora mãe, namorada e pequena,
encosta seu rosto em meu peito
e dorme a me esquentar.
Preciso dela,
não sou somente um cara torto,
não tenho mais aquele sorriso morto,
aprendi na poesia a sambar
e a cantar,
Lá iá la iá.

Guest

I expect you to be my guest
on this time calling Everest,
this trial of my interest,
the kill for those who call for the death.
But my arms are folded on your arms,
My head don't turn me out of your eyes
and I don't hope for losing you.
Your time it's just finishing soon
and I am not the creepy son
who will expect you to die.
I want you to be my guest
on my life that is running so fast.
You didn't see that much from me,
but the last time you went to see
I was lying with no look to show.
You just told me "grow up".
"You don't wanna lose your shine,
don't wanna stay like me falling into pieces
as some undisclosed issue,
not wanting to find any clue
and giving some shit advice for your son
that you barely know from the glow."
You dying now, my non-father at all.
I don't have any last wish for you,
don't need anything that is new.
I just expect you to live
and see what I turned for,
not thanks to you,
but for that advice on my dark room
that someone gave on the bar
and you just spelled to me
like a parrot.

And I repeat now as you die:
Be the guest on my life,
be the guest on disguise,
even with your sold soul,
even without your body.
I need my father now
to see that I am not turning into him.

The last breath came on the hospital room.
I am not crying, I am not crying.
Nothing come from my eyes.
But I take the last shot of tequila for your hopeless heart.
Goodbye, guest.

Mouth Shout

What do you expect from your living?
Really, tell me, because everybody needs something to stand by...
And you're falling apart, you don't know what to do with yourself.
That's ok, that's magnificent if you have nothing.
But when you have everything, that doesn't make any sense.
When you search for something that you don't know what it is.
It's not about the poetry of your words anymore.
It's about you, and your will to be happy.

He is not mad with anyone, it's just searching for the world he had before.
He is not dying, he is not crying, he is not smiling too.
He have nothing. Surely have.
But when your thoughts take all your mind, you overthink.
You overdrink, you oversuffer, you overthink again.
But he is not happy, not sad, not anything.
It's just waking up every morning
Trying to forget these feelings.

They are all about smile.
They are the future of humankind, future of the world
Go together, run together, stay together.
But certainly don't do anything worthwhile.
They spend all day showing themselves how amazing they are.
But they aren't that amazing.
It's all about the show. It's all about fake smiles on beautiful landscapes.
It's all about showing it's them together, but they are not one same unit.
They have mind.

I am something between the lines.
Something that thinks too much and live too little.
Someone that expect more from everyone.
Including myself. Including you.
And when I am supposed to be happy.
I spend all my time thinking on things of life.
But life is not that amazing. Life sucks.
Everyone just show them off to the world.
Without trying to learn anything from the experiences.
Without telling anybody their experiences.

A living hell world, with living tell stories.
Lets make crazy those who show out every feeling.
Lets make normal those who scream alone on their room.
The together unit its falling apart.
And we got nowhere else to run.
From ourselves.

Don't make the static no-feeling poetry rule our society.
We have stories to tell and people to see.
It's not just you. It's not just me.

Dark Spot

When you think you're all lonely suddenly the reality of your thoughts take the left side of your brain and start to play with your motion control. It start to dance, start to say words that you couldn't say... but at this time you're insane... You're talking with yourself, again.

But who's insane when it's about harmless days? Who is right when it's about three weeks since you saw anyone you really love?

You think you're right, you think you're the one. The one that fell out the ground and cracked your bones, but didn't felt anything. You need some compensating time with a piano, just to see, not play. You love to watch the draws of the sounds going out of the window and flying. You might have the will to fly, it's your only possible move right now.

So you flew. You really flew that one time... And you don't even know why, but you're here now.

You see every dark floor on this building, every dark spot without a single light to guide you on your path, if there is one. Your path with the beans guiding you. That will be wonderful.

You heard about some bomb trowed to your very spot... You flew again, but now to wake up from a dream. An awkward and strange dream that you didn't want to loose. You note this on your notebook.

You can now have your coffee, dark, but you choose to mix it up with a little milk. You open the window because you find out you're loosing the sky today.

You see the kids playing in the neighbor backyard and just realize that you can live this life now. The people you love are waiting for you.

You smile. 

- Damn! I am missing you all, but let make some pancakes and go out to see the sun today.

Your dreams were so much enlightened since then.

Nowadays

When you talked to me,
like a little angel talk to a sinner,
I realized that something poked me
right on the thing I should call my heart,
but I will not.
Because, before I have meeting you,
the 'nothing' stopped and stared me for so long
and my heart was so gone, that did not exist.
My brain was so focused on something else
that I almost let you escape from my arms,
almost let me without touching those beautiful lips.

When I kissed you
I forgot about everything else on that morning
and on that dawn, and on that evening.
We all should be sleeping,
but I can not go to sleep
when those eyes are looking at me.
That kissing moment
I realized that I had taken back my feelings
and they punched me, right on the heart,
just to it back to the beat he had before.

When I asked you to be my wife
the world stopped for ten slow seconds.
Your friends, the angels from heaven,
picked up me and raised me, like if in that moment
I had become sort of an angel too.
I raised to heaven with you
and all those other people stayed staring,
asking yourself "why does it not happens with me?".
It does, when you find your priceless angel.

Corolário

Na exata perdi meu poder,

no fogo da ata do pensar,

na alma perdida no humanoriar.

Humano não sou, humano não mais.

Como fogo a mente põe-se a pensar.

Esquece presente e a cor do luar.

Eleva-se em tempo a frente de si.

Esquece daqui, esquece de rir.

Te digo, números quaisquer tem poder

de esquecer-te a mente de um poeta qualquer,

dos dedos jorrar equações e não mais poesia

e a alma que se tinha nunca mais se copia.

Eis que o tempo do relógio aponta outra hora.

Pseudo-humano de exatas aqui estou eu!

Procurando você, procurando a mim.

Não quero suas palavras vazias assim.

Por fim, me vejo de olho fechado

a pensar em tanto o que falar, em tanto.

Me ponho de olho aberto.

O exato em pranto.

O lado humano se põe a cantar

"Vamos dançar num cemitério de automóveis".

Vamos escrever uma nova canção, ou prosa.

Vista-se de humano e cante comigo.

"Colher as flores que nascerem no asfalto

Vamos todo mundo, tudo que se possa imaginar..."