mgenthbjpafa21

n. 1965

Gente entre gente, que não se pense que se sente o que outro sente, nem que se pressente para além do presente.

n. 1965-05-01, Vitória, Porto

Perfil

43 191 Visualizações

Truism

Vós bronzeados como eu, mais, por vinte ou trinta anos,

Vós malhados de piscina, praia eu objecto de atos, danos.

Nós na mesma mata por diferentes trilhas

Eu certo do abismo no cumprir da milhas.

Eu celebrando o torpe destino

Vós abordando a coisa com tino,

A hora incerta, a morte certa.

Oh my, it is a fucked up, eluded world...

Called a truism.

Ler poema completo

Biografia

Por ora não interessa quem sou, que entenda a/o ?! Outr/a/o. Peço desculpa por postar escritas toscas, textos mal editados ou nem revistos. Parte da minha escrita fora da nuvem., formatei-a num ssd...😂😢🤗 A plataforma é rápida. Sem sequência ou ordem de assunto. A cronologia: nem sempre é clara a data real, por isso a não incluo. Gente entre gente, que não se pense que se sente o que outro sente, nem que se pressente para além do presente. Só me retrato por tanta falta de critério e qualidade. A verdade é que alguns dos que mais prezo não serão incluídos para já. Uso também um novo repositório para a língua inglesa, idioma que tenho vindo a usar por vários motivos, e.g. (https://www.poeticous.com/m-genth ) Embora quase não escreva em espanhol e francês, uso um site espanhol que considero, entre outros. Não posso aquilatar exactamente o que perdi, dado que....blá blá blá. Quando encontrar uma ordem e decidir se quero incluir algo pessoal além das iniciais cruzadas, ou pseudónimo/fotografia. Atentos cumprimentos a todos os que mantêm, participam e contribuem para este repositório de escritas, as melhores, e todos os que chegaram. Obrigado

Poemas

All 2020 2019

jan. (8) fev. (3) abr. (2) mai. (6) jun. (10) jul. (9) set. (4) out. (6) nov. (6) dez. (3)

Mischievous(nature)

I do appreciate your time,

But really prefer a dirty dime

For your lessons on sense of duty.

Over mischievous, misdirected, naive,

Notions about rites of adult and manhood,

About patriots and idiots saving the day,

I know you will got all the way

And still though you earned the day,

We should convene on disagreeing,

Since I don't have any reason not to praise you

I'd like to congratulate all those who fought

Adhere to an ideal a faith or even a book club

In order to fulfill the intent,

An eventual drop of Greatness within,

Waiting to manifest on the individual

Bringing the human race to a state of elevation

That allowed even one person to get fifty years of free ride

Although certain of the changing of the tide

Turning on the tsunami of injuries and humiliation

Or if you prefer the March of solidarity

In which one may have been unavoidably enlisted.

Aka delusional episodes stormed by guilt and/or other sociopaths

Allowing to properly say how an ill person can healthy behave.

Wonders of the chasm of neurological ignorance that drives

The finger that belongs to someone, bi dimensional, flat Euclidean.

Considering Hilbert space

Universal wave function,

Considering, out of Topology

That bidimensional representation must contain IT all.

Out of a literate Eulogy,

Feel as if in a cosmic embrace.

Or,

Based in the little details of Hell

Get that getaway car

As you run, run, until the dissipation of the smell.

248

A stream ( Sparse, a farce. )

These words always will be

Scarcity of images of crying for you,

Crying for the World after acid kisses,

Damn Solitude, you beast, you have broken my bones

Fuck you my darling face, y

You didn't dance, the music stopped.

And now at the frozen arena, by the blue lake,

There are only pieces scars, old and new,

Horses hanging by their necks in rotten ropes

Mouses shrieking, building towers of rabid teeth.

Ravens have struggled and gone after fiesting

Hope jumps laughing of them all like shallow characters

A dismissed drama dismantling the stage,

Senseless amount of broken glasses full of patina from old age

202

dismantling

These words always will be sparse, a farce.

Scarcity of images of crying for you,

Crying for the World after acid kisses,

Damn Solitude, you beast, you have broken my bones

Fuck you at my once darling face,

You didn't dance, the music stopped.

And now at the frozen arena, by the blue lake,

There are only pieces, scars, old and new,

Horses hanging by their necks in rotten ropes

Mouses shrieking, building towers of rabid teeth.

Ravens have struggled and gone after fiesting,

Hope jumps laughing of them all like shallow characters

A dismissed drama dismantling the stage,

Senseless amount of broken glasses, full of patina from old age...

178

Labirintitis of the “Crave”.

Eight days of Hospitalary presence

Not by Dominican influence but for aggravated influenza

Respiratory complications bronquitis, bronco obliteration of any kind

As if anyhow I would really mind for a state out of a blank slate

A Tabula Rasa were agere or facere draw

Given the assumed nature of a flaw.

I was never a partisan of the kiss in the butt Theory

For they were erased by effect of their raising power

So orders coordinated were firstly implemented

Life is a transient state of reshaping order tending to reabsorption

We fictionate choices were there is no option

As I stand while lay in this bed of unending introspection.

Today the sun made its appearance above some clouds

And multitudes calculate with mathematical precision their whereabouts

I am localized on an epicenter of a quake

Leading to an assumption that may be a fake

But independently of outside influences never a path was chosen,

Just an addition of negative decisions

Leading to this quadrant of sad semblant

Framed by years of shallow or deeper tears.

Histoire de la Folie, some of Foulcault descriptions of humane treatments

Are reserved for my displeasure with new improved nuances

An itinerary well revealed as a menace self fulfilling

As I stand idle in this never ending threshold away from that time

Sold everyday, all those losses while I was astray, and those that still may

And surely will come next week or next may.

If scape is denied and a solitary hand should handle the spoon

Of endless repetition in an endless quest to avoid doom

If all my qualities fade leaving only the grotesque disposition of inertia

If others seem so distant and voices once heard have silenced

If Gnossiene n°1 is looping as a happy substitute

For the loud silence pace of the life of others, nix to groom,

If any attention to esthetics or intention of humanity

Is periodically assumed as unattainable and only sporadically envisioned

If the vacuity of these words leave love me not, lots of them embracing the wind

That has no memory nor realm except in our vain imagination

Chrysanthemums not related to empty rituals

Burials of ants and tales about giants,

Observations of measurements,

Theodolites ancient future rites,

Then even the dissenting keyboard AI, Word review

The sad beautiful anime movie that a team, team win,

Or any given number who have what I never have seen

Not a element of all that play is contributing for the humiliating English left above

Mere statement, incomprehensible vacuoles,

inescapable inscrutable holes,

Tower bells give out of time hours,

Next to McDonald’s where ubereats pick meals.

Outside ideally prefigured plans have turned into scams

And justice is not only a word but a deed done and served in exquisite plates.

The pain of writing leaves my arms numb

As compulsion not fulfilled to eat mandioca flower settles in

And my indecision extends the paranoia to swiftkey and Word,

For choosing one culprit for the nightmare of Word completion is to heavy

Even considering persistent compulsion source of so much futility

But never to actually achieve the envisioned humility

Or courage to erase all that has come from this dismantled incoherent

Product of Maté hungry ghosts realm, absurd,

As that Gabor M guy likes to point out and I recall

At the Thirteenth hour of another fourteenth day

A sort of God would look with a certain, detached, sad indifference

As I, incorrect, toxic, painful of forgotten ghosts

Lead the unfruitful, endlessly search for faithful hosts

Like a tsunami, a shock wave, immense but not so brave.

As the celestial sphere turns, labirintitis of the “Crave”.

250

Comentários (1)

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nilza_azzi

2019-08-17

Contra plágio também é uma maneira de dizer e não dizer. Muito obrigada pelo comentário em meu poema.