Skip to main content

Misfit

Busco socorro na música
Não acalma
Desisto
Volto ainda
A dor fica 

A música vai
Mas retorna
Companhia de
outros desmazelados
Solitários
Isolados
Em inglês, 
Misfits

Fico eu
Meu pé na terra 
a cabeça no céu
Esse pé cá, o outro lá
O coração expandido 
Infinitas línguas dessa minha Babel
O mundo inteiro roda
Dentro
Da minha cabeça

Indelicado mundo 
Violento
Covarde
Afaste-se, ordena o mundo
Sofro 
Minha frágil dor
Caminho só
Misfit

Meu nó na garganta
A música não desata
Nem afrouxa
Mas do caos em mim,
Do caminho trilhado, 
Em sua inútil poderosa companhia 
Há de brotar luz e som
Há de nascer vida


Labels

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Once

I once dated a werewolf            Eyes like flashlights           showing the path I once walked the path I found lost words I found lost pain I once threw my car from a bridge In the highest speed When street lights seemed like flying arrows and the water from the lake was a dark brick wall I once threw stones at the windows of the moon and sailed a boat of stardust in a lightless night I crossed the borders in disguise and spoke a million tongues I now decided to forget I once danced with a king on top of the highest tower No one ever saw the king No one, but me I once was a speck of dust I once was a grain of sand I was part of a hurricane And I landed on another land I once dreamt new dreams and wrote them on napkins I once wrote poems on spaceships and lies on  pages of ancient books no one ever read I once took a look I once took a pick I once took a bite It did not do the trick  ...
Post a Comment
Read more

When a murderer lives inside your head

Schopenhauer says to live is to climb a mountain and when you see what is waiting for you on the other side of the mountain too early in life, you can never climb it the same way. I saw what was on the other side and decided I was simply not climbing that mountain anymore, unless pushed the way up. You wouldn’t realize that just by looking at me then. You wouldn’t see that I had quit. I would wake up, take showers, eat (actually there would be a lot of eating), go to work, do whatever obligation I was supposed to. I would even go out with friends or family. But if you looked really closer, you would realize I was only automatically responding to demands, except for the food. Food became my only source of pleasure. How was all the rest performed? At work, if there were tasks and deadlines, I’d do them, using no more than the basic skills required.   As to my social life, it rested on the plans of others. They would say when and where to go. They would pick me up and bring me ho...
4 comments
Read more

Chinese man

  She got up and went to get a cup of coffee. “Damned headache!” Acute and deep, precise, the day ruined. -        -   As if a long, fine, pointy needle forced itself through my cranium, you know? A Chinese man with long mustache holding one point of the needle, manipulating it, pushing it very slowly. -        -   Why Chinese? Seriously, she could not believe it! A headache from Hell, dripping sweat after the coffee and that was the question? -        -   Why not? Is there a law against the Chinese? -       I was just asking! -        -   It’s my pain, isn’t it? If it’s Chinese, Japanese, Arabic, what is the difference? -        -   Forget it!    She regretted the rude reply, but did not apologize! Apologizing would require time, explanations, facing the Chinese man, pulling him by the mustache, immobilizin...
2 comments
Read more