Tupelo 30/30 Project – Day 21 – logomaniacs

Poesia em Chines

art
must sometimes get real raw & apoplectic

today we don’t write to be apologetic
to be charming or polite
enough is enough hence we rhyme
scream and shout for a change in paradigm
we are here to make noise
for as long as it takes as loud as it gets
till you stop
to hear our voice

our poetry has purpose
it has wrath anguish awe
for humanity seems to have gone astray
on and on day after day tumbling down
this Cimmerian path

dearth of compassion inflicting the Earth

our poetry bleeds hope it abounds
in ecstasy sparkles with idiosyncrasy
when it becomes about
the power in small gestures
vivacious acts of solidarity
in nature’s dynamic balance
linking together such tenacious cat’s cradle

we are here to describe & reinvent
to protest & celebrate by translating
rebellious feelings into winged words
like the logomaniacs we are

will you
step out of your plutomania
& experiment “freeading”?

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Terror – 2013

This war on terror…
And terror’s war on us all.
Is there ever a winner?
What does a child have to do with any of this?
Grownups that do not get along over religion
And follow blindly their insane masters.
Faith should unite us…
Yet, through history,
We have chosen to bleed in its name.
What kind of loving God would ask us to kill for him?
This is not my Lord.
Are you sure it could be yours?
Quantum physics teaches us
That we are all one and the same,
Interconnected as brothers and sisters,
In nature.

Falésias de Morro Branco - Fortaleza

Falésias de Morro Branco – Fortaleza

Chapada dos Guimarães

Chapada dos Guimarães

When an innocent life is lost to an ignorant cause
Something in each of us dies as well.
Humankind at its worst,
Heading towards self-destruction.
Today, my own humanity is shaken,
I do not believe we can make it
If my five year-old nephew asks me about dirty bombs.

Lucas

Lucas

Back home and all around, violence is present, too,
Though in different forms:
Traumatizing kidnappings,
Children soldiers who will never play,
Women raped and punished by hypocrites,
Traffic of people, arms, drugs and exotic animals,
All feeding into ever more carnage.

Cantina Marina, Washington DC

Cantina Marina, Washington DC

Despite it all and to my surprise,
As I type these lines at a bar in DC,
Waiting for some poetry to awake the life in me,
People walk by, a family dines at the next table.
The sun shines and the world is beautiful again,
Worthy of our hope,
Our infinite determination to speak up
And, with our words,
Continue on in our humble fight for peace,
For the wondrous little things that make us humans.

Vó Rachel at a family wedding

Vó Rachel at a family wedding

Istanbul

Istanbul

Mara, one of my dearest friends.

Mara, one of my dearest friends.

Lone poetess – 2012

DSC00900

A lone poetess wanders through the night…
Not knowing where to go,
Searching for music and light…

So I just sit at this bar and let my heart melt.
I fly far on the wings of all I have felt.
I see him glance across the room…
Another pretty face in this crazy life of mine.

The gods watch my fingers bleed,
Line after line.
And so it’s true: melancholy rules me.
It’s there in every whisper of my poetry.

But why these games?
Happiness inspires me too…
If there were a chance,
I’d make words dance and verses bloom,
Soft as a promise, as a child’s laughter.
Serene, as us sitting here together…

Take a moment, poetess,
And listen to him recite…
Find light in words’ caress.
As he kisses you good night.

Seven – 2012

So different life has been,
All the faces she hasn’t seen
The times she’s acted mean.
Suddenly feeling lost, as a teen;
Then in a high, on fire and keen.
The almighty poetess queen,
With tears that are silent and lean,

For no one should ever know
Of her anguish, her silly woe,
Which inspire and torment her so,
Disguised in an upbeat hello.
She yearns to yield to a verse’s flow,
As her poetry, she strives to sow,
But this world is her art’s greatest foe.

What to do then on this day?
No words left to say…
No wish to go out and play.
Thus to her distress and dismay,
On that busy month of May,
Rhymes wouldn’t come her way.
A price too high to pay.

Her inspiration in a haze,
Nothing that’ll dare and amaze,
At which to marvel and gaze…
Oh, such torturing phase.
Or could she be a lost case?
Might as well chill and laze,
Scribble a little, elate and erase,

Then give it another try,
Find solace in the sky,
Embrace life, never be shy.
Learn, lust, love and lie
Down in an ecstatic sigh…
Afterwards, kiss it all goodbye.
Go home… make words fly.

She lets humanity be her muse.
Rhymes and verses that she’ll infuse
Into our veins. You’ll share her blues,
Feel her hope and smile as you choose
A favorite piece matching your hues.
So make them beautiful and profuse.
Poetess, free yourself, set them loose.

This is the story of a wandering bard.
A writer always, no matter how hard,
Planting poetic seeds, yard after yard,
Day and night, standing guard.
Of her life, each verse is a shard.
For us to share in, enjoy or regard.
Poetry is alive, unmarred and starred.

If you love enough – 2012

Because friends say I have a bubbly, yet hopelessly romantic personality… Oh well, they may be on to something after all…

You can have my heart…
But along comes eccentricity,
My poetry, my art.
All the ups and downs,
The rollercoaster rides,
As emotions flood
In unexpected tides.
Upon my sadness,
Don’t despair.
Just hold me near…
While feelings stir inside.
They’re here for inspiration,
To keep my heart wide open
And my thoughts flowing…
It won’t be easy,
But for the times
You come home to rhymes
Written just for you…
That much, I swear…
If the rest of me,
You love enough to bear.