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Jonas Gonçalves Jun 2014
To anyone*

The warning

Beauty is dangerously fascinating
as well as the person who it dwells.
Therefore, I'm not responsible
for your precocious passions
either your impossibilities.

1st stranger / The worker

A charming smile
able to break down the walls
around my small heart.

So he goes on his own way
as far as he feels more alone.

He's a charm
which, however,
lives in the future.

Oh he's a machine, leastwise
he works at speed of one.

2nd stranger / The sculptress

The dissolved melancholy
in her round face
is extremely rare,
because it's similar to mine.

So many shapes!
So many angles!
So many views!
So many plans!

Oh she suffers of simplicity
inside a world
so complex.

3rd stranger / The dreamer

Eyes of matutinal sky
which once stared at me deeply,
making me daydream on a folly.

A boy who has been abandoned in the desert
(in the desert of awareness).
A boy who has been found at sea
(at sea of unawareness).

I envy his young eyes.
Mindful eyes to everything and everyone.
Eyes with an incredible innocence.

Sometimes I'm like him:
obsessed with folly,
but full of sanity.

4th stranger / The dadaistic

The most beautiful gold wires
sway in front of me
as well as they identify
the person to whom they belong.

However, I don't know why
I've seen her with so much affection.

She's nothing to me.
She doesn't make sense like this.

Perhaps her beauty
is somenthing unique
(and this is worthy of affection
leastwise, of contemplation).

5th stranger / The artist*

When he speaks,
his lips are voluptuous.
and when he shuts up,
they are just lips.

I consider my appreciation
somewhat sentimental
although it is fatal.

I make poetry in pure expression,
requiring to intervene or not.
I'm anxious as well as anguished
and therefore I fall in love
externally and internally
with his impressionist beauty.

Beauty which once I imagined owning
with the same feeling
which I dedicate him this space
from a pretentious poem.
Jonas Gonçalves May 2014
At first sight
it might seem tempting.
But we've been fooled for so long
that neither more we care.

My lucid thoughts
I carry inside the pocket
of an old coat,
because I don't wanna seem a philosopher.

We know how wrong is
the way by which we follow.
But the necessity of locomotion is
what provokes that.

We know how useless is
to look for another exit,
another answer or solution,
even knowing that existing is the solution.

— The End —