.
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CLIQUE NO POEMA PARA VISUALIZAR.

.

CLIQUE

CORRUPÇÃO

(Patrícia Evans)

.

Eles me perguntam se eu faço poesia...

Escrevo sobre o que há para ser visto e vejo,

o que está para ser sentido e sinto,

o que vivo,

ou sobre o que você conta ter vivido.

.

Sou uma plagiadora do mundo;

a poesia está pronta!

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EVERY BREATH YOU TAKE...

(Monica Sabino)

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Invencível...
Independente e senhora do meu castelo
Aí uma música
Cantada com tudo o que ela tem dentro
A tristeza que observa à distância
E um lugar
Recheado de lembranças de outros tempos
De uma quarta de cinzas exausta e feliz
E cheia de novidades
E aqui estou de novo
De novo ciente de que você não está mais
De que não vai estar
And I will be watching you...

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. SET ME FREE

(Patrícia Evans)

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You slammed the door

and I never saw you again;

stabbed me but didn't bury me

and I became this repugnant zombie

Oh, forever scoundrel,

forever sarcastic love

unfuck me please.

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LIBERTA-ME
(Patrícia Evans)
.

Você bateu a porta e nunca mais o vi.
Me apunhalou mas não me enterrou
e eu virei este repugnante zumbi.
Oh, sempre canalha,
sempre sarcástico amor,

desfoda-me por favor.

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.
La Fontaine
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EPIGRAMA

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Amar, foder: uma união

De prazeres que não separo.

A volúpia e os prazeres são

O que a alma possui de mais raro.

Caralho, cona e corações

Juntam-se em doces efusões

Que os crentes censuram, os loucos.

Reflete nisso, oh minha amada:

Amar sem foder é bem pouco

E foder sem amar é nada.

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.

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POEMA AO MAIS RECENTE AMOR

.

(Leila Míccolis)

.
Estar entre teus pêlos e dedos,

entre tua densidade,

neste transpirar sob medida

aos teus gemidos.

Estar entre teus trópicos,

entre o teu desejo e o meu prazer;

beber parte de teus líquens e teus rios

percorrendo-te da foz até a origem,

e pura a cada amor partir mais virgem.

.

.

Sky blue
So tired of all this travelling
So many miles away from home
I keep moving to be stable
Free to wander, free to roam
(Peter Gabriel)
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NOTÍCIAS DO FRONT

(PATRÍCIA EVANS)

.

Hoje,

um pouquinho do ontem,

nada do amanhã,

nada de novo no front,

trilha que me apontem,

nenhuma sugestão,

nenhum conselho,

novo acontecimento

ou qualquer diversão.

Só o apedrejamento

dentro deste nosso quarto;

corriqueiro,

previsível

e chato.

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THE STUPID JERK I'M OBSESSED WITH

(MAGGIE ESTEP)

.

The stupid jerk I'm obsessed with

stands so close to me

I can feel his breath

on my neck

and smell

the way he would smell

if we slept together

because he is the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with

and that is his primary function in life

to be a stupid jerk I can obsess over

and to talk to that dingy bimbette blonde

as if he really wanted to hear about her

manicures and

pedicures and

New Age ritualistic enema cures and

truth be known, he probably does wanna hear about it

because he is the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with

and he's obsessed with doing anything he can

to lend fuel to my fire

he makes a point of standing

looking over my shoulder

when I'm talking to the guy who adores me

and would bark like a dog

and wave to strangers

if I asked him to bark like a dog

and wave to strangers

but I can't ask him to bark like a dog

or impersonate any kind of animal at all

cause I'm too busy

looking at the way the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with

has pants on that perfectly define his well-shaped ass

to the point where I'm thoroughly frantic

I'm just gonna go home

and stick my head in the oven

overdose on nutmeg and aspirin

and sit in the bathtub reading The Executioner's Song

and being completely confounded by the fact

that I can see

the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with's face

defining itself in the peeling plaster of the wall

grinning and winking

and I start to yell,

Get the hell out of there

You're just a figment of my imagination

Just get a life and get out of my plaster

and pass me the next painful situation please

but he just keeps on

grinning and winking

he's the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with

and he's mine

in my plaster

And frankly, I couldn't be happier.

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EMOTIONAL IDIOT

(Maggie Estep)

.

I'm an Emotional Idiot

so get away from me.

I mean, COME HERE.

Wait, no,

that's too close, give me some space

it's a big country, there's plenty of room, don't sit so close to me.

Hey, where are you? I haven't seen you in days.

Whadya, having an affair?

Who is she?

Come on, aren't I enough for you?

God,You're so cold.

I never know what you're thinking.

You're not very affectionate.

I mean, you're clinging to me,

DON'T TOUCH ME,

what am I, your fucking cat?

Don't rub me like that.

Don't you have anything better to do

than sit there fawning over me?

Don't you have any interests?

Hobbies?

Sailing Fly fishing

Archeology?

There's an archeology expedition leaving tomorrow

why don't you go?

I'll loan you the money,

my money is your money.

my life is your life

my soul is yours

without you I'm nothing.

Move in with me

we'll get a studio apartment together,

save on rent,

well, wait, I mean, a one bedroom,

so we don't get in each other's hair or anything

or, well,

maybe a two bedroom

I'll have my own bedroom,

it's nothing personal

I just need to be alone sometimes,

you do understand,

don't you?

Hey, why are you acting distant?

Where you goin',

was it something I said?

What

What did I do?

I'm an emotional idiot

so get away from me

I mean,

MARRY ME.

.

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LEAVE ME ALONE

(DENISE SOLLAMI)

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não me atice, rapaz
jamais você poderia supor
do que sou capaz

.

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TELL THEM THAT I AM NOT HOME

BY~RAY SILVEIRA

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Tell them that I am not home. Intransitively. If they demand an abject object, tell them that I am a rascal. If they demand complement, tell them that it was fixed in the catalyzer enzymes of my sordidness. If they nevertheless ask where I went, answer that I left aquaring Februaries of vagrancy my life away. I am not for the professors nor for their students, tiresome phone calls or false or true love declarations, for men stuned of emotions or women radiating of peacefulness, for children crying with hunger or crying out of pain, for their afflicted parents covered by the mantle of misfortune and re-covered by the canopy of misery, for bankers, scoundrels, saints, speculators, agitators, pacifists, beggars, lottery prizes, automobiles (of the year, of the month, of the day, of the hour or the minute), helpful friends or fearless enemies with affectations of friendships, for silver moonlights or elaborated drinks with the nectar of the Olimpo gods, for gentlemen, rotters, noblemen, or rascals like me, for the Pope, for the bishop, for the priest and for all the clergy, for Dalai Lama in his red-orange vestments and for the dalai mud dressed with moss green, for the ones crazy of passion or of madness itself, for the drunks, for the drunkards of ambitions and the sobers consumed by the flames of the burning waters of obligatory abstinence, for the most shameless whore or for the nuns covered from top to toe by the habit of charity, for ladies dis or for lords give, for princes, or for ragamuffins, for immaculate beings smelling sandal, or lazars exhaling in life the stenches of cadaveric decomposition. Tell "Mr." nobody that I am not home. Tell everybody, except Mrs. death.