Write when sad or angry, say, if you enjoy
After falling back to listen to Dinah Washington voice
I confess a choice of empathy about being mad about a boy
 
At this age, a voice from the fifties, after years of my celibacy
As a naturally promiscuous but faithful to one at a time,
Confessing all infidelities and invite to all ménages type of man, when married,
I understand some women mad about boys, punishing their partners
By their inability to let them fuck the young cock,
Invite their partner to assist or participate actively,
Present himself personally or remotely by any modern means...
Or keep it to her (lone?) selves...
As a naïve believer,
My creed is most would communicate if possible,
And feel sorry for such women or men,
That there are still many of both,
Who cannot share their libido with their partners
So sad, it brings pain to both subjects, family, friends
Suppose, this time, I am hungry writing,
Mad with myself for denying myself sex as communion
And companionship,
Staying on quick creative masturbation is misbehaving.
Staying home but not by circumstances, not choice
And neither books nor digital media are good company,
In solitaire there is desire but not the satisfaction one admires
This is not a satire,
More of a parabolic confession
Or a mind regression
You decide, I’m not giving a shit
I’m a fool to live as I actually do
And have nothing more to ado
Women please pick your boys
Tear them into tired happy jalopies...
Don’t bother with hypothetical jealousies
So as I say, forget the sad example, if true
Maybe some full moon I came out in the blue...
To give someone deserving some of my expertise,
Familiarize with, listen, laugh... be humble
 
Although the empathy is real, I know that stand in a bed of nails
Failed the Fakir course, and the blood taints everything
So no living soul will offer  voluntarily to me
As others decisions strike and slain my initiative
Before I even form the process, by data analysis based prediction
And no valediction
No fast pace
Will free my desire from the asphyxiating embrace
Of things I ought to accomplish
Of means I refuse, tools I’ll never use.
No path, no pier, no fugue, no muse.
Only and endless inconsiderate abuse
 
So you (that, happily for me) are free to act under the usual constraints
Ignore them, give them all you know you may
And the more you have within, sway

Expand your life, heart, orgasm,
Don’t chasm, be blank or breach,
Reach higher, be brighter

Este líquido da vida,
Esta água dentro mim,
Os rios e antigos oceanos,
Nós os reverenciamos.

Uma gota em mim
Histórias sem fim
Uma gota nas nuvens,
A espera dos lábios gretados,
Dos que padecem assim,

Um mundo feito de água,
Que deixa morrer de sede,
Chocamos contra uma parede,
Nosso amor escorrido para além,
As revoltas águas do desdém,

Água como bem escasso,

O ter cuidado no passo

Que não seja maior que a perna,

Ou trazem-te um peixe a casa

E tu com pés de cimento,
A descansar com os peixes. (The godfather)
Ciclo do fluido infinito,

Absorveu muitas curtas, finadas esperanças.
Água que tudo lava se houver genica e calma
Agua que só não limpa o pesar que vai na alma.

Dijo hace lo que haces con el corazón
No embarques en un corsario negro
Respecta los sueños de las antepasadas
Inspira a la primera idea hermosa o catártica
 No me gustaría de me quedar a antártica
Más la poesía de los pingüinos Imperador
Deberá ser más alta que el dolor

Lo que nada consta contra la sospecha
Que sou una menina brincando na Praia
Escoada de areia na playa fugida de mar cansado...

Stories are to be told, good or bad, happy and sad.
The bird had a lot of untold one, allegedly mostly bad.
Acrobatically writers do their magic with the birds
Fumes eluding the editor and convincing de public
That this is the real magnificent product of human spirit

Witch is undubitably at least, what spirit is in ancestors consideration here?

Spirit of peace, serenity, luxury, anger, of people past,
So many waves in the sea that we, few and small, cannot opine?
One more verse about how irrelevant are we to compare to a glorious pine

I see thunder moving the leaves, after I open my eyes close to the lightning
I feel the path enchanting my life, some effort like the saw and the pine
Men walk and children run with their Kits yellow, blue, red, and purple, cutting each other.
The pine falls to the ground and all the birds are homeless, some eaten and other catch
Color is present in the blood, the sky, the river, and the sea; I just can't see any color in me.

Colour is present in the blood, the sky, the river, and the sea;
I just can't see any colour in me.
Cause I, me, fucking monochromatic being
Like hollow man, but not, 

Just a lose 45 hollow point shot, that is what we can buy,
Hitting nothing, nor a fucking fruit fly,
But provoking the stampee that will feed thee.
Yoall.

Stories are to be told, good or bad, happy and sad.
The bird had a lot of untold one, allegedly mostly bad.
Acrobaticlly writers do their magic with the birds
Fumes eluding the editor and convincing de public
That this is the real magnificent product of human spirit

Witch is dubitably at least, what spirit are in consideration here?
Spirit of peace, serenity, luxury, anger, of people past, there
Are so many waves in the sea that we few and small cannot opine?
One more verse about how small we are compare to a glorious pine!

Words will be thought and then written and god wanting, read.
Once read the author prays for appreciation or at least an opinion.
Cutting a long story short, having never published, must follow the tread
Malformations malfunctioned at days cutting like razor blade and perished?

I see thunder moving the leaves, after I open my eyes close to the lightning
I feel the path enchanting my life, some effort like the saw and the pine
Men walk and children run with their Kits yellow, blue, red, and purple, cutting each other.
The pine falls to the ground and all the birds are homeless, some eaten and other catch
Color is present in the blood, the sky, the river, and the sea; I just can't see any color in me.
 Colour is present in the blood, the sky, the river, and the sea;

I just can't see any colour in me.
Cause I, me, fucking monochromatic being
Like hollow man, but not,

Just Like a shape already forgot.

Apoio tem que ter base figurativamente
Apoio é uma ilusão se apoiar alguém.
Apoia a cabeça no meu peito.
Apoia-te em mim.
Apoio não há
Até ao fim.

An obelisk raises hopes, a bridge connects souls,
An orchid leaves its scent, characters will not bend,
Roads always diverge, around a tree love struggles,
Hurting it, bond cutter knives, no deep repent.
Another scene made of clay, hot, colder, next day.

A child raises his hand to a passing young woman,
Seated at on old stairway entrance, she is not seen.
Seven years, has lost her mom due to attack of a man,
Angry child climbs the Victorian stair losing self-esteem
Another scene made of clay, very hot, colder next day

This is not what I fucking want to connect me to, I say
Another scene made of clay, very hot, colder next day
Fishes jump out of the pond, sun bright along the way
No subject may attend such gathering of inconsistency.

There may be whores, bulls, pinnacles, tools, watches and more.
Apples, pineapples, ascent to macho pichu, sign of Ophiuchus.
Relatively slow, the serpents most wished capability turned it sore,
Cause everybody wanted the death alive, well and playing baseball.

At the balcony a mother of five cries for not having lost them all.

Another scene made of clay, very hot, either way, colder the next day

 

 

Another scene made of clay, very hot,

either way, colder the next day

O why you force me to write

Things so patentely not bright

No interest whatsoever, if I may?

 

Another scene made of clay

One must be offered to

A entity of the underground,

Cold is far from evil compound.

 Your path isn’t just a day,




 

Why do you loose it

Never a word about birdlings

A praise for his mother

An offer to the Gods

Describing the youngsters sons he should

 

Some leashes are made of clay

Some broke, others just decay

Desalento empurrado, dado viciado, caído na orla do ser, 

Vazio na hora de ter, 

Eu rolo sem rumo, tabuleiro estragado, 

Destino ignorado, sem planta para ver.

Ofereceram pilhas de livros e razões sem nunca interiorizar o que aí achei, palavras polissilábicas,
Estruturas, só palha seca, cinzas e agruras.
Seco só e sem palavras ardidas, 
A casa antiga de mim enfim desabou,
Os saltos altos das mulheres na rua, choque, ruído e o nada que sobrou
Só a dor traz sentido ao meu desalento.
Só a teimosia provem ao meu sustento.

O vento quente com sabor a chamas,  a cinzas, afinal como me chamas?
Cinzas de nós, chondrites aspiradas, afinal nadas, nada do macroscosmo,
O soluço da solitude no planeta mãe, só esta noite, nâo ficas,

Pois a tua personalidade é fria e eu sou quente e grande e tolerante,
Mesmo à minha incompletude expressa no sangue e gemidos que levo,
Nâo te pego amor mesmo que a alma desespere e repetidamente sem trevo.


Três ou quadrifold, fuck what is about to be told, i am sold to boldnesss.
So i cannot falter, no more alter, and my song is in A plus full of disarray.
A song of  lost love, of having to cut your limbs, of sung nothingness.

Why don't I know if I am not duplicating
Wit lost after the fear, erasing induced
By you great mother fiuckers, throw it al to the river,
By you great "pédagogues" of adults
Haha, you great sapience falling at my feet
Poor feet, fucked mal treat prominences
Still capable of picking some asshole sentences
And shove them into your vicious asses,

What can you had, I am the bitch you copy,
Am am the rule to your infantile measure,
That  adore when you plagiarized my playgirls
Or reproduced my preferences on takes...

When you monetize the sites were I fucked
Using friends and pros with papys liquidity
Well, I should have monetized that mercifull persons,
Although
I expressly leave, by expess discordance, when father phoned exactly,
When I was being wildly sucked and eating at the same time,
Having to command things better left unchanged

It was nice when The mouth of my woman or else… was filled when talking,

Proof of control and the girls out of the family 

They brought warnings,

He puts In our mouth, while speaking  to the his family, to test my determination

Sorry it was the family's surveillance that wanted me to fail,
Not to have un unpredictable sucking agenda.
I'll give you my pudenda.
Suck me long, suck me deep


May you stand and throw your comings of cumming...
And fuck the telephote, talk or the sommelier
These are Completely different perspectives, bitches.
Nice lives, best wishes, love you deeply.

Suck me long, suck me deep, intelectuality!!

ISSO É MUITA SABEDORIA

Quando fazemos tudo para que nos amem e não conseguimos, resta-nos um último recurso: não fazer mais nada. Por isso, digo, quando não obtivermos o amor, o afeto ou a ternura que havíamos solicitado, melhor será desistirmos e procurar mais adiante os sentimentos que nos negaram. Não fazer esforços inúteis, pois o amor nasce, ou não, espontaneamente, mas nunca por força de imposição. Às vezes, é inútil esforçar-se demais, nada se consegue; outras vezes, nada damos e o amor se rende aos nossos pés. Os sentimentos são sempre uma surpresa. Nunca foram uma caridade mendigada, uma compaixão ou um favor concedido. Quase sempre amamos a quem nos ama mal, e desprezamos quem melhor nos quer. Assim, repito, quando tivermos feito tudo para conseguir um amor, e falhado, resta-nos um só caminho... o de mais nada fazer.

Clarice Lispector

ponho cem para receber que essa Ukr n disse talcoisa