este grito dos homens através da matéria

“A rua exprimia a perturbadora angústia de uma colectividade; não era um indivíduo orgulhoso a gabar-se da sua história. Era humana e grande na sua aflição por gritar a dor de toda uma multidão. E Sayed Karam assistia impotente a este grito dos homens através da matéria.” ― Albert Cossery

onde estão os lábios da nossa vida HÁ uma porta secreta minúscula

RECUSA

I

É muito possível durante os primeiros meses

uma importante viagem à Ásia - essa

é uma das consequências

secretas

em que não se tomaram quaisquer resoluções finais

e ambas chegaram igualmente.

II

ainda um cu marinho de agonia onde eu

sou um copo de aguardente francesa e tu

uma gaivota que passa rente ao barco que me leva

III

- Eu sou uma coisa qualquer

Eu sou uma qualquer coisa

sou uma qualquer coisa eu

uma qualquer coisa eu sou

qualquer coisa eu sou uma

coisa eu sou uma qualquer

EU NÃO SOU UMA COISA QUALQUER

- eu sou uma cidade

- eu sou ZANONI de Bulwer Lyton

- eu sou uma errata

- onde está a minha vida deve-se a ver a nossa vida

- onde está Deus deve-se ver o Diabo

- onde está o Amor deve estar o Grande Amor Mágico Amor Meu

- onde estou Eu deves estar Tu

- onde estão os lábios da nossa vida HÁ uma porta secreta minúscula

O-AMOR

MEU AMOR

António Maria Lisboa

A R D E

the laughing heart

your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.

Charles Bukowski

the eye of the pepper ou "l'oleil cacodylate"

tragique neckless

Chiklets

last night i awoke up from a dream came face to face with my face facing the
tombstone teeth of a man called chiklets he came down through the ages with
the desperate beauty of a middleweight boxer came beating the force field
with elegant grace trying to get a perfect grip there was no absolute grip
he was in a sail boat a glass bottom boat the bottom of a boat he was coming
down through the ages sea molten sea spilling down the tube the spiny eye of
the village the spinal eye of the victim the spiny eye like a question mark
hovering over him what do you want what do you want from him down on a dream
too much unexplained what do you think do you think there was an actual
connection i can't imagine a connection going down there i can't imagine any
connection at all a boxing ring with gold ropes soft desperate karat top
spinning and coming down through the ages forty one BC 

Patti Smith

Ex aspectu nascitur amor

s p a c e

 

 

outras vidas privadas

Another Bed - Bukowski

another bed
another women
more curtains
another bathroom
another kitchen

other eyes
other hair
other
feet and toes.

everybodys looking.
the eternal search.

you stay in bed
she gets dressed for work
and you wonder what happened
to the last one
and the one after that...
it's all so comfortable-
this love making
this sleeping together
the gentle kindness...
after she leaves you get up and use her
bathroom,
it's all so intimate and strange.
you go back to bed and
sleep another hour.
when you leave its with sadness
but you'll se her again
whether it works or not.
you drive down to the shore and sit
in your car. it's almost noon.
-another bed, other ears, other
ear rings, other mouths, other slippers, other
dresses

colors, doors, phone numbers.
you were once strong enough to live alone.
for a man nearing sixty you should be more
sensible.
you start the car and shift,
thinking, I'll phone Jeanie when I get in,
I haven't seen her since Friday.

Os Animais Carnívoros

Dava pelo nome muito estrangeiro de Amor, era preciso chamá-los em voz - difundia uma colorida multiplicação de mãos, e aparecia depois todo nu escutando-se a si mesmo, e fazia de estátua durante um parque inteiro, de repente voltava-se e acontecera um crime, os jornais diziam, ele vinha em estado completo de fotografia embriagada,
descobria-se sangue, a vítima caminhava com uma pêra na mão, a boca estava impressa na doçura intransponível da pêra, e depois já se não sabia o que fazer, ele era muito belo, daquela espécie de beleza repentina e urgente, inspirava a mais terrível acção do louvor, mas vinha comer às nossas mãos, e bastava que tivéssemos muito silêncio para isso, e então os dias cruzavam-se uns pelos outros e no meio habitava uma montanha intensa, e mais tarde às noites trocavam-se e no meio o que existia agora era uma plantação de espelhos, o Amor aparecia e desaparecia em todos eles, e tínhamos de ficar imóveis e sem compreender, porque ele era uma criança assassina e andava pela terra com as suas camisas brancas abertas, as suas camisas negras e vermelhas todas desabotoadas.

Herberto Helder
Poesia Toda
1979

O que é preciso é gente com dente gente que tenha dente que mostre o dente

O que é preciso é gente
gente com dente
gente que tenha dente
que mostre o dente
Gente que não seja decente
nem docente
nem docemente
nem delicodocemente
Gente com mente
com sã mente
que sinta que não mente
que sinta o dente são e a mente
Gente que enterre o dente
que fira de unha e dente
e mostre o dente potente
ao prepotente
O que é preciso é gente
que atire fora com essa gente
Essa gente dominada por essa gente
não sente como a gente
não quer
ser dominada por gente
NENHUMA!
A gente
só é dominada por essa gente
quando não sabe que é gente.

Ana Hatherly
Esta Gente / Essa Gente

The king ordered every spinning wheel exterminated and exorcised.

Consider a girl who keeps slipping off,
arms limp as old carrots,
into the hypnotist's trance,
into a spirit world
speaking with the gift of tongues.
She is stuck in the time machine     
[...]   

She's on a voyage.
She is swimming further and further back,
up like a salmon,

[...]   

Once
a king had a christening
for his daughter Briar Rose
and because he had only twelve gold plates
he asked only twelve fairies
to the grand event.
The thirteenth fairy,
her fingers as long and thing as straws,
her eyes burnt by cigarettes,
her uterus an empty teacup,
arrived with an evil gift.
She made this prophecy:
The princess shall prick herself
on a spinning wheel in her fifteenth year
and then fall down dead.
Kaputt!
The court fell silent.
The king looked like Munch's Scream
Fairies' prophecies,
in times like those,
held water.
However the twelfth fairy
had a certain kind of eraser
and thus she mitigated the curse
changing that death
into a hundred-year sleep.

The king ordered every spinning wheel
exterminated and exorcised.
Briar Rose grew to be a goddess
and each night the king
bit the hem of her gown
to keep her safe.
He fastened the moon up
with a safety pin
to give her perpetual light
He forced every male in the court
to scour his tongue with Bab-o
lest they poison the air she dwelt in.
Thus she dwelt in his odor.
Rank as honeysuckle.

[...]   

Briar Rose
was an insomniac...
She could not nap
or lie in sleep
without the court chemist
mixing her some knock-out drops
and never in the prince's presence.
If if is to come, she said,
sleep must take me unawares
while I am laughing or dancing
so that I do not know that brutal place
where I lie down with cattle prods,
the hole in my cheek open.
Further, I must not dream
for when I do I see the table set
and a faltering crone at my place,
her eyes burnt by cigarettes
as she eats betrayal like a slice of meat.

[...]   

There was a theft.
That much I am told.
I was abandoned.
That much I know.
I was forced backward.
I was forced forward.
I was passed hand to hand
like a bowl of fruit.
Each night I am nailed into place
and forget who I am.
[...]   


Anne Sexton

je ne regrette rien

Whatever I see I swallow immediately

Mirror | Sylvia Plath

I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful-
The eye of the little god, four cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.

'Contemplação Carinhosa da Angústia'

A crítica é menos eficaz do que o exemplo. É de considerar se a grande sugestão para usar da crítica nos nossos tempos e que põe em causa todos os valores consagrados, não é o resultado duma anemia profunda do acto de vontade de toda uma sociedade. Todos temos consciência de como o exemplo se tornou interdito, como o indivíduo, na sua excepção perturbadora, é causa de mal-estar. Dir-se-ia que a fraqueza, a breve virtude, a mediocridade, de interesses e de condições, têm prioridade sobre o modelo e a utopia. A par desta dimensão rasa do despotismo do demérito, levanta-se uma rajada de violência. É de crer que a violência é hoje a linguagem bastarda da desilusão e o reverso do exemplo; representa a frustração do exemplo.

Agustina Bessa-Luís, in 'Contemplação Carinhosa da Angústia'

 

gimme danger, little stranger

cuja posição um decoro mínimo obriga a respeitar

"Entretanto, repele todas as ameaças, pressões, chantagens e mais porcarias com que por alguns dos atrás mencionados indivíduos (...) tem sido assediado nos últimos dias, atitude de uma falta de humor ou de heroísmo, incompreensíveis em tipos que pareciam trazer à vida portuguesa uma mensagem do maior desassombro poético."

                                                                                                                                        Luiz Pacheco

When you com I'll see you coming from the world's margin; Here there's nothing of interest; The ruins of Atlantis just

Stella Maris

I dream I'll meet you deep deep down
The deepest point on Earth, Mariana Trench, ocean bottom
Between Nanga Parbat, K 2 and Everest,
The crest of the world, there you'll be my banquet guest
Where nothing more can impede my vision
When you com I'll see you coming from the world's margin
Here there's nothing of interest
The ruins of Atlantis just
But of you not a trace
I don't think you're coming anymore
We missed each other in our dreams
You dream me, I you
Don't worry, I won't wake you
Before you wake up yourself
Across the ice towards the North Pole is where I'll expect you
Will be standing on the axis
>From Tierra del Fuego in hard dream labour to the pole
There everything will revolve just around us
The Pole Star directly above me
This is the pole I'll wait here
Only I cannot see you cmoing from anywhere for miles around
I'm waiting at the wrong pole
We missed each other in our dreams
You dream me, I you
Don't worry, I won't wake you
Before you wake up yourself
Please, please don't wake me
Only as long as I dream do you exist...
Enlist in slumber on a ship
Course: Eldorado, Punt, that's your home
Wait on the coast, look on the horizon
Until I at last see your sails there
But the captain is always drunk
And mostly down below deck
I can't steer this ship in my wildest dreams
On a riff it springs a leek
In the North Sea it then sunk
An iceberg drives me back
I think I'll be waiting for long
Punt stays undiscovered
We missed each other in our dreams
You dream me, I you
Don't worry, I won't wake you
Before you wake up yourself
You dream me, I you
Don't worry, I'll find you
Before you wake up yourself
Collared in a doze I'll grab you
And pull you towards me
For you dream me, I you
I dream you, you me
We dream each other awake 

My name, should you know it , Remains unspeakable, And is spoken - malediction

- Chrysanthemum
For you I am a chrysanthemum
Supernova, urgent star

- Astera Compositae
For you I'll be a dandelion
A thousand flowerettes in the sky
Or just a drop in the ocean

If you know my name
Don't speak it out
It holds a power - as before

- Lilacea
A lily of the valley
A flower of saron

- Helianthus annus
For you I even be a sunflower
Do you hear my enlightening laughter?
Another reason to cut off an ear

You know my name, do you not?
Don't say it
For it is sacred, immovable - frozen

- Rosa, Anemone et Nymphea alba
I'll even be a waterlily
A marygold, a rose
Or a little thistle

- Euphorbia
A blue dahlia, a black tulip
That's where opinions differ
The scholars disagree

My name, should you know it
Remains unspeakable
And is spoken - malediction