Hoje fiquei íntimo do sol
De quem fugi minha vida inteira.
Interglasses antilovianos equipam meus mecanismos ametista
Contra os brilhos julietais.
Bebi Cocakola
E, com a acides do xarope
Me protejo dos beijos bêbados
Auto destrutíveis.
Milhares de espermas gygabitianos
Escorrem de meus acordes líquidos.
Insisto nas mordidas sórdidas
E vorazes
Das carentes de alma três por quatro...
De quatro.
Louvado seja Baco... balbuciante...
E não menos seja louvado o buraco cintilante.
As góticas tem medo ao meu lado.
E as que tem medo se protegem na minha asa...
Alfa.
Minha coleção de medeias é ostentada em meu balcão-mezanino.
Sou deus das loucas que se matam pelos filhos...
Ou por uma conexão mal-sucedida de gametas...
Das escarradas pelos sorrisos-irmãos...
Das gentis sórdidas
E solúveis em água mineral.
Só o que importa...
São minhas modulações precisas das ondas sonoras...
Só o que importa.
Amém!
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12 comentários:
Milhares de espermas gygabitianos
Escorrem de meus acordes líquidos.
This is promising...
Bravo!
What an amazing carelessness!
This poem sounds like someone who's fallen and is trying hard and is struggling against gravity to stand up again.
Except for the picture, the poem is perfectly sound.
Hi, John.
I want you to write the preface of my new book.
Let's talk about it.
See yah.
Hi, buddy.
The word "acides" seems too much to mean "acidez". I'm not sure, and you should never give your reader the chance to infer you don't know Portuguese language, although we never do know it the way they consider we do it.
Consider reviewing.
See you.
Hi, fellow.
Autodestrutíveis we now write like this (altogether), under the Novo Acordo Ortográfico by Bechara.
See yah.
Good morning, John.
It's nice to see this kind of convergency you enable between the sacred things and the profane things. You'll be praised by the Popes.
See you soon.
Good evening, my dear.
This poem is so exciting from the very beginning that sometimes I don't even go ahead with the reading with fear of losing its spirit. The Sun... this only "God" for mankind - the Sun.
Brilliant! Bravo!
Sunday:
Let's go to the church to hear the priests telling beautiful (and ugly) lies.
Good morning, John.
We have so many friends who do not visit us on our blogs. Let alone having only a few.
This isn't a crisis on the side of writers, but on the side of readers... We've been playing our part...
Have a nice week.
Bye
Hello, John.
I think of masturbation. But masturbation is so sad and pathetic.
No pleasure felt alone is a true pleasure.
See yah.
Hi, Fellow.
"espermas gygabitianos" should have been written like this: "espermas gigabytianos"...
You poets have got to think ahead.
Bye.
Good morning, John.
It's a nice poem to start the day.
See you.
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