Sleep

Close your eyes,

say the lights above.

Such fireflies, such winks of

never ending notes

upon the delicate whispers

of the feather like page.

Close them; sleep.

Sleep don't awaken.

They state within my thoughts.

Ignore such throbs within thy heart.

Run away.

Close them, forever.

Do not awaken they say, they sing.

Help pleads from afar.

Help pleads from a voice.

My voice, my help.

The Barrel of a Gun

New thunder 

erupting from the ground.

Can I sense the pain? 

Or is it a gift?

Melon's tumbling up the hill.

Trot free, trot before time

grasps the hidden treasure.

Before gravity tugs

at the pouch of growing life.

The hot air balloon 

expanded to great fear;

has flown to no return.

Sonnet: Waves Ahead

Suspended through thy whispers ever sighed

lays the question that hath no response.

Seven soaring symphonies of work,

yet blocked away from every standing man.

Sounds of search have risen on this earth

to answer questions posed at birth of sun.

I stand alone and seek my star's soft ray;

upon such sand of soft and warming skin.

The waves are gentle, calling out my name.

I hold such harsh belief to hear thy call.

Mount the boat and hold the oars so close.

Hold thy future bared by I alone.

Row the boat through waves of blue and gold;

Let the sky you seek ahead unfold.

Realista

Eu falava com as ondas do mar e tudo

as pessoas passavam por mim 

viam me a falar e pensavam.

E tola

Eu nao matei ninguem, 

falo com as ondas 

com a brisa do mar 

a areia ve os meus pensamentos.

segredos cada pessoa os tem

tenho duas caixas 

mar e coracao

"es muita poetica”

nao lol sou realista.

cada um tem o seu destino 

o seu livro da vida

o meu e este

as minhas forcas.

 as minhas ''caixas''

Poem by Debora, a friend who was very unaware of her poetry.

Not Poetic, Realistic

Reflections upon reflections.

I hear you,

yet I have yet to understand.

Why must it be,

lost at the sea, your sea.

Speak to the quivers

of the shore's rising belly.

Fingers quivering through sand

Such soft sand warming your thoughts.

Speaking through touch.

Silver tears? Why?

Hear my song of sorrow.

Speak with the sea.

Hear my imagination

of realism.

Just a human, just a shadow.

Longing for the warmth of another

within my beating drum.

No poems, no art.

Just me.

Just real.

Canta Querida

Canta querida, canta.

As veias do mar dancão

para as cantigas da tua voz.

Canta para o mar ouvir.

Que sol nosso, tao vivo,

com cabelo louro a bailar

as cantigas da querida.

Canta na luz do sol.

Deixa a saia rodar

o ritmo da voz antiga.

Roda saia, canta querida.

deixa a saia ouvir.

Vento do norte

abraca-te a tarde.

Quer ouvir a querida

para asobiar.

Vem a lua bem cheia,

com o olho bem cinzento.

Olha para querida,

que ela canta-te cantigas.

Este mundo toca musica

tão linda para ti.

Agora canta querida, canta.

Canta la para mim.

I Say

Daylight swims

among the irises

of such truth.

Reveal yourself I say.

Have many thoughts

suspended by threads

of love, of belief.

See to  it that it lays.

Rest I say, rest.

Sneakers unworn

despite the rhythms 

of the heat beaten sidewalks.

Sing to yourself, I say.

Awaken

before noon's sigh

to smell such simmers

of our provider's morning dine.

Nothing is not what I say.