Unknown – Wellington Cable car
i wanna a break
from being me.
i can’t stand so many thoughts
running thru my troubled mind.
i don’t know where to step
neuroses everywhere!
i just want
to break free!
(at least a little bit…)
John Rocheleau – Freedom
how silly were we?
jumpin’ in couches,
dancin’ on tables.
best time we ever had:
cause there we were completely free.
- – -
Written to my dear friend Andy and our crazy nights in Auckland.
René Magritte – Not to be reproduced
i miss my place
my country
my face.
i want to tight us
with silk lace.
*
across the sea
i found my peace.
Pierre-Auguste Renoir – Luncheon of the Boating Party
proud of the cooks’ results
– beautiful things worth a lot –
they spend countless money
to buy tiny food.
the cost is too high!
for them and for me.
Johannes Vermeer – The milk maid
nobody looks into my eyes
i’m as invisible as air.
the invisible girl
i dare call myself.
no super powers,
a workhorse instead.
*
i see no passion
just mechanic movements.
i saw a glimpse of care
that vanished in thin air.
Edward Hopper – Nighthawks
a place where
smiles are punished.
(can you even imagine
a place like that?)
robots making food
for robots to buy.
Paul Gauguin – Eiaha Ohipa
every little inch
of my poor body aches.
i’ve been working
just like a slave.
but not today.
oh, no!
i feel like dying…
instead i’ll celebrate.
From creativeuniverse.com
and suddenly
i’m upside down
and my heart…
well, it lies dead on the ground.
i wander for the city,
bright lights to guide me.
i don’t know where to go,
i don’t have someone to plead.
i don’t feel what i should,
i’m a mess about to burst.
and although i’m walking around
inside i wish i could die.
Em ti me vi sozinha,
desamparada, sobrecarregada.
Outras épocas me vi acompanhada,
me diverti e fui amada.
Embriaguei-me em tuas ruas,
ri do mundo e dos outros.
Chorei, me perdi, me achei.
Sem ti não seria o que sou!
Obrigada, Marília – serás sempre meu amor.
* * *
Em homenagem aos 82 anos da cidade do interior paulista, no dia 04 de Abril.
És perfeita combinação:
sólido e abstrato,
prosa e poesia,
amor e dor.
Há quem te ame,
há quem te odeie.
Quanto a mim?
Luta constante!
Mas o amor sempre vence, São Paulo.
