Being Poetry

And at times you cry and complain
And sadness takes over
And cry out for death and love and sex
Sometimes only happiness sustains
From sunset to morning
Love and peaceful is the man and his
Sometimes, the person while in love
Laugh and cry about things only in his mind
And then, sometimes, things from back a while
Are livid and hot in his present time
Sometimes he mixes midday and midnight
And sleeps through work hours
And wake up during the night
To find that he is not lonely
- This is being poetry -

in honor of Estado de Poesia, by Chico César, sang by Maria Bethania

Give it time and rest

I won't say "you should know better"
For who knows such things?
The older they get, the less they care
But I will tell you this:
The pain will go away
And it is better like this
Alone but for friends
Not loved but by yourself
(It wasn't love anyway)
It hurts now because it must
- It is the price of lust -
But you won't remember or regret
Give it wine and rest
Give it time and sex.

For Jeff Bowen.

A Picture in Motion

A Picture in Motion

There is something to do
With hearts and how fast they beat
And the gaze and the walk and the smile
And smiling back

Papers were signed and oaths sworn
But there is something to do
With the chance of encounters
And lust

Rules were set and boundaries drawn
And there is a fine line to trespass
Between care and respect and devotion
There is passion

And time has passed since I was seventeen
It comes back now: The horse in my dreams
The safety he gives I will never seek
It isn't for me

It is up in the mountain, hidden from them
With no interruptions but the ones we make
Among all this, one thing still:
I chose for me the air from your nostrils.


November.5th/2014
for Don Harrison

Compromisso #2

E o que que eu faço se é você que eu quero?
E a cada passo e a cada tropeço que levo: você
E espero
Que no fim de tudo e quando já velho
Não tenha família ou amante que atrapalhe o meu querer
Já não rezo mais aos meus guias e Orixás
Pedindo que te tragam pra perto: pra esse frio polar
Quero viver junto, no calor do teu quarto
E para alcançar o que almejo, com você proponho um trato:
Sei de minhas loucuras, e faltas, e sumiços
Mas me aguenta que eu te aguento: entre nós dois, o compromisso.

Seek Death

If death is what you seek, and above wishes, and above all else: death. Seek it gladly, slowly glide, evade the smiles of life, avoid the light of day. Be tormented by life and the lure of bodies. Seek revenge and poison raw. Wish for the unfriendly-friend, ever looming, ever escaping. Seek it underwater, seek it under bed. The cover of night, the shade of time, it all will hide a piece of death. For you there is nothing, no granted wish. You might undo the fabric that was given, you might pull the string that is missing, the cuts will happen and you might let it bleed, but death and its cold touch your heart will never reach. If you wish for death, just don't seek it. It will come at the hour and day of your passing.


Keywords: Death; Suicide; Seeking Death; 

You are not the nice guys.

I will never understand or accept the exclusion

I will not stand still while you walk by

And achieve very misty conclusions

Reasoning your hypocrisy and lies

I will not, I repeat, humor my own pain

I was nice to you all, as friendly as I could

You need to know: you are cruel and vain

Selectively excluding me from your group

It doesn't get better: the bullies also grow up

They find jobs and get new wives

They will be there to pester your life

And you cannot join their special club

But lets be clear just for one moment:

I will not let you pretend you are the nice guy

Don't stand there acting as if chosen

Don't pretend to be something you could never buy.

Antonio S.

August.9/2014

keywords: bully; bullies; lonely; darkness; exclusion; peer; group; groups; high school; gays; gay; cliques; clique;

The Longing for Home

Sometimes I wake up lost
not knowing where I am
where to go
I am in my bed
There is nothing to bind me here
nothing to make me stay
This apartment where I live
all my things
so flammable, saleable, destructible
All these years, all for nothing
I know deep down that I can't stay much longer
It is the wish in your heart
the whisper that comes at dawn
You do not belong here
It is the will to run
To go
To leave
It is the pain of time
The dust in the hours
I realize it now
It is the longing for home
It is the atrocity of dislocation
The ephemeral friendship you make
with life
The deals you agree upon
but you do not agree
It is the knowledge that this doesn't matter much
none of it
You will be gone soon
They will stay
they won't miss you
The land of nowhere, the land of no one
You don't belong here
...
Sometimes I wake up lost
and I look at my fingers
I look at the walls
and I feel my bed
and I look for the dream that woke me up
What was the message?
What did they try to say?
...
Sometimes I wake up in my bed
but where am I?
What is this place?
What am I doing here?
I don't know
The feeling is not sadness
or longing
or despair
It is emptiness
The feeling that you don't belong
that you didn't bind
that you are aloft
you are floating in a wave of people
you are drifting in an ocean of culture
that is not yours
You don't belong
You might try
- and you are required to -
But you don't belong.




January.05/2014

5:51am