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Karl Keshava – Late lightning

i wanted to write about
an assassin’s face type of guy…

besides his scary face
he had a tender, soft heart.

felt in love miserably
for a prostitute from the 7th Street.

after going thru hell with an unanswered love
– no cash in his pockets, no beauty in his face –
he died alone by a lightning stroke!

Tranformação ou A árvore que virou semente

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Tahaki Reserve – New Zealand

sou a árvore na margem
e o rio pede passagem.
revolto e inconstante,
caudaloso e vibrante.

o vento vem me chacoalhar
o rio as minhas folhas a levar…
(como o invejo, amaldiçoo!)
e eu, parada,
onde não queria estar.

o tempo passa,
eu envelheço,
crio casca,
amadureço.

mas não me mexo…
não me mexo,
desfaleço.

*

Quando acordo
não sou eu.
Sem folhas,
sem galhos,
sou semente dita morta
levada pelo vento.

muito tempo demorei,
terras distantes visitei,
flores encontrei,
de espinhos desviei.

e em meio a vulcões e montanhas
terra fértil encontrei.

em meio a lembranças e futuro, brotarei.
as magoas esquecerei, frutificarei.
morrerei em paz com o rio que um dia invejei.

– – –
You can read the translation by clicking here.

We never know

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Dave Matthews art

dave singing to me
‘everyday should be
a good day to die’.
i agree
and i cry, silently .

we should carry troubles
with smiling eyes,
and with a steady pace
get things done.
no regrets,
no bad feelings,
no harmful words,
just a peaceful face.

we never know…
we never know…
until we are about to die.

– – –
Written while listening You never know by Dave Matthews Band.

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i cannot speak my mind.
i have to shut feelings down
cause people don’t want to hear
things they don’t agree with.

i cannot think for myself,
i need to fit on the shelf
and pretend to be one more gadget
something expensive but disposable.

they seem to forget
that the important things in life
don’t fit in shelves
and are always for free – like health.

– – –
About Steve Jobs death.

My body will

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Pablo Picasso – Girl with mandolin

Finger by finger
I feel my shaped fist heart be open
by extraordinary women.

As I expose myself completely
or as I see myself in them
insanity licks away from my still sick brain.

And as I feel so grateful today
here goes my body will to them:

”The first one was Laura – cause we shared a womb.
She’s my sunshine in the storm,
someone I can always count on.
To Laura, my shoulder forever
and my best laugh ever!

Then it was Catarina – some kind of nature force:
I could not control, I could not scape, I could never overcome.
To Catarina, my heart
although it’s rotten and might not work.

Recently it was Sylvia.
My (till then) unknown soulmate,
the one that knows me for sure.
To Sylvia, my right hand
for her made me a poet-to-be.

At last but not at least is the place of Elizabeth.
The rootless traveller I find myself in love with.
Someone, that like me, couldn’t find what is looking for.
To Beth I leave my feet,
the one is now walking where she never dreamed of.”