Aos poucos te conheci
e nos muitos senti a ti
ao seu lado a vida é leve
a vida se torna única
Talvez seja a forma
e o jeito que tem me
ensinado sobre ela,
ou talvez…
Talvez possa ser
a maneira como
seus olhos reluzem
diante os meus.
E como tudo se torna
belo, e precioso
ao estar ao seu lado.
É o mesmo que dizer
como o amor traz
nos velhos caminhos
um novo aroma.
.... Amor-tudo-pode
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I am old enough to know that feeding the birds when you own cats
is just feeding birds to your cats and yet
I told you I loved you--for a moment the cruelest thing to do
seemed like the nicest thing I could say.
You can't love everything on the food chain the same,
said my grandfather on his way to the barnyard with a gun
that for the life of me I can't remember was for a fox
or for the chickens. Seemed like a big distinction at the time
but now I'm not so sure. Everybody is bound to get hungry eventually,
even the housecats. Especially the housecats.
I KEEP HAVING THIS FALSE MEMORY by Robert Wood Lynn
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For all our needs, it provides,
how would the earth forgive
all we take so ungraciously,
to fill our pockets,
digging & drilling into its rich core, grand mountains, and vast seas so impudently,
it’s centuries old lush, dense forests diminishing, thawing glaciers.
It’s pristine ocean & rivers now carry waste & muck,
the smoke, dust & billions cars that turn the azure sky gray.
It’s groans and trembling man cannot bear;
greedily, audaciously turns his gaze up to the heavens, to the moon, and other planets
to plunder, trash & devastate in the name of ambition, progress and development !
~ Meeta Ahluwalia
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poem i wrote after a first date:
cuffs
maybe i don't want to be brave.
maybe i want to be very small.
maybe i miss road trips in pigtails
where i’d fall asleep against the hums
of the forest green ford, my father's foot
on the gas, which meant home. which
means shelter. shoulder— as in,
to bear for someone. the night we met
grew late, grew cold. i let you borrow
my jean jacket i carried to occupy hands
unsure of their capacity to be held.
at the end, you shrugged it off
in my subaru, parked a crosswalk away
from your apartment. i think i would
like to shrug many things off like that.
to be draped by something warmed
by another's touch & not flinch
after its loss. i hear my future
in your voice (read: your voice in
my future) which means tomorrow.
which meant driving myself home
that night. i put on the gps
even though i didn’t need it & i put on
the jean jacket, pretending it was yours
& you let me borrow it & that’s why
the sleeve cuffs were rolled up
so many times.
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“I build things from feelings, memories, & dreams.
I build myself from what people think they broke in me.”
- nope, not shattered.
L.T. PHOENIX
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