ela entrava na casa
ainda procurando por ele
se lembrando das frases
trocadas
imaginadas
pensando se ele também pensava nela
e como
quando
com que frequência
remoendo
o que fora verdade
e o que ainda seria,
o que ficou na vontade
e o que ficou pra poesia..
I like something in this, something special. it is short, but there is a restlessness (inqueititude.. spelt wrong I know) that attracts me. Perhaps it is a mix of sad/complicated emotions, feeling not 100% in this world, of ill at ease for no reason, and then solving this problem by expressing it in poetry.. vontade/desire may not be satisfied, but if it can produce good, wonderful, poetry... it is a good restlessness..
ResponderExcluirKeep writing :-)
Happy Birthday..... from me and your many future readers, who are awaiting new poems (or to discover your poetry) :-)
ResponderExcluirI re-read this poem this more, it moved me more reading this time, in a different way. I think you should (need to??) write more about your inquietitude... when you have time to write (which I know is not often, and can cause more inquietitude). I think if you do, you will find much more excellent poetry inside you :-)
I am re-reading your old poetry, looking for imagination, - and maybe putting off having to work a little. It is good rediscovering your old poems. The disadvantage of a blog, as opposed to a book, is that a book of poems you can open at random and flick through more easily (maybe you can do that on a blog.. ha haha). I am kind of flicking through tonight, I am feeling worn out and in need of someone to talk to. This poem kind of matches my mood tonight :-) The mood in it has a lot to do with what is on mind, too many imaginary covnersations, ha ha ha
ResponderExcluirThis is a short, sweet poem. It has a grace (and a kind of sadness), a succintness in which you say so much...
Hopefully you will find time soon for some new writing!!
And I just noticed, the previous entry I wrote a year ago for your birthday!!! Happy birthday two weeks in advance!! :-)