A mostrar mensagens de Maio, 2012


what a miserable sod...

spot-on, gentlemen, spot-on.
you see, two years ago to the day
was the happiest day in our life.

spot off.

they got their money back, so that's ok

so deafening at first,
your death bell's toll
is receding at last
into the close-by hills

but no - the echo
bounces back from
an infinity of mundane objects
until my soul rings like a
Tibetan prayer bowl
rendering what's worldly frivolous

I love not, desire no one
no room now for the
feedback loop
of subsconsciousness

oh my love, my only love -
could I only write about anything else,
but the damage is done,
and the crowd shoves in to see
nine lives gone at once.

I'm yearning for a friend


new data over old data
as life moves on

at least while it does,
for will I join you in the grave
sooner or later?
later would be fine
so I can become myself

in the meantime, a flower
would be fine

earthquake weather

the distant sky above
is filthy like mud

this must be the lowest point
in-between this world of hills
for whichever way I turn
I always roll back
until I don't move again.

so spit in your palms
and rub your hands -
there's work to be done, old man

done thinking

lightning’s split the thinking tree in three

to think about
nothing to decide


hollow empty quiet –
this house in the rain

where you will never know
that, yes, I'll be driving
the damn mercedes
any day now

where you talk to me no more
when I report
the 2nd orange slice
of cancer
they’ve cut
out of me.

[no, it won’t get me]

hollow empty impassive –
these pointless underwater days

where you hear me no more
as I fight back sadness
like an urge to retch
until only a numb, deep pain
in my gut remains.

I miss you
in these silent days.

the key is gone

slow learner

I think I have to rephrase: you said não sei viver sem ti, e agora vais ter de viver sem mim - I don’t know how to live without you

I don’t. what we did together has become nothing now, and I sit and stare