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Showing posts from October, 2015

Sex, gender and the arrogant ignorance

She is a woman. She is against feminism. She is against any kind of service rendered specifically to women. She argues they are not necessary. She, of course, has never needed any of them. She believes education would end violence against women. She ignores the fact that many women suffer physical and psychological violence in their own homes, from their own highly educated, sometimes powerful partners. Women in third world countries, women in first world nations, hiding their black eyes under designer sunglasses. 
She is a woman. Protected and lucky, she goes around dictating rules for problems she has  never faced and problems she has decided to overlook. She has no power to change those rules and she is happy to receive the compliments she does from her protected and lucky friends, mostly male. She feels reassured of her wisdom with those compliments. She is so smart!
She mixes up concepts of gender and sex. She becomes annoyed that in a National exam, the Ministry of Education used …

Soul Searchers, Deep Divers

Soul searchers
Deep divers
Walking the dungeons
of their dark past dreams
Weaving threads
of intricate thoughts
of frightening feelings

Looking for the flower within
Breathing in
The freshness of the garden
Breathing out

Burning the bridge
From where rests
the seven headed dragon
Its fiery breath
Its menacing eyes
Its darkness
Its desperation

Burning the bridges
Cutting the ropes
Setting feet
on the solidity of the mountain
Being there

Breathing in
Diving in
Peaceful clear water
Breathing out
The blue sky

With the water
All is one

Breathing in
Breathing out
All one
In the space
Where we float
Where we search
Deep divers

White Flying Feather

Flying feather
Cuts across my drowsy driving.  White flying feather  Against Brasília's blue October sky Disturbs the dryness  Fights life's forceful  practical purposes
Flying feather Deep cuts gray threads of dark thoughts Carrying me to dreamy lands Of subtle shades of brighter colors
White flying feather Fierceful softness  Delicate violence Holds the answer  to all the questions I'll never make 
Flying feather Defies the inert existence of concreteness Fluctuating knife  perforates the flesh 
 of  my contradictions 
White flying feather  Floats across the windshield Disappears in the cloudless vastitude Takes with it the dreamy land  Leaves me the leaping 
into the drowsiness  of my own abyss

A nice life

It is a nice life  If you don't care to listen  to the noisy silence of the soul If you need not the contemplation of the inner walls of your own heart If you need not turn them inside out  If you need not walk  on the pathways of your veins If you need not dive in the streams of your own pulsating blood 

Tudo e Nada

É, me acostumei com o cheiro forte do verniz. O verniz seca, agora, a nadadora em giz pastel, antes que borre, que apague, que desapareça.  A gente se acostuma com tudo. Ainda mais quando é coisa assim, forte, que aumenta a permanência. Você cresce, envelhece, e nada é permanente. Nada! Quanto mais o tempo passa, mais tudo é nada, mais tudo é fluido e fugaz. E você desiste de domar a vida, e você aceita que não sabe tudo, que não sabe nada. E lê muito, e escreve tratados. E mergulha fundo, em tudo, e não sabe. Não sabe nada!
Você caminha, alternando o caminhar: passos firmes, decididos, olhar altivo; passos lentos, cabeça baixa, procurando, procurando, sem nunca encontrar. Tudo e nada! Tudo é tudo e nada! Leve como uma bigorna. É tudo o que é!  Sempre! Nada!
E assim você vai, mergulhando, fundo e longe. Vai em apneia! Vai até não aguentar mais. E sobe, de uma vez, à superfície, onde não se vê a margem, onde não dá pé. É lá que você para. Para e enche o pulmão de ar, de uma só vez. Po…

One thing and another

Dark mane
The head lies
On the womb
There it rests

Fingers  run slowly through
The soft hair
Countless black threads
Other grey
Here and there

Hands caressing
Dreams, Joy
Day, night
Fear and solitude

One thing and another
Hands, fingers, hair
One thing and another

One thing and another
Put together
One thing and another
Just one thing

Uma coisa e outra

Farta cabeleira negra,
Repousa a cabeça Sobre o ventre Descansa

Os dedos correm 
Lentos Entre macios cabelos
Negros fios
Outros gris
Aqui e ali
Mãos acarinham  Sonho, alegria  Acompanham  O dia, a noite Aconchegam  Medo e solidão

Uma coisa e outra
Mãos, dedos, cabelos
Uma coisa e outra

Uma coisa e outra
Uma coisa e outra
Uma coisa só