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