Not a horseman, nor a coach,
The horses are down the high pitched coast;
Only a weak whip-like reproach
Made the horses run from their own ghost.


Down the hill, the horses flying
Into the deep like doomed pegasuses' *****;
The neighs and waves are crying,
Replying the peaceful song of a fiendish siren.


Before the dark water turns to scarlet,
It paints a mad reflection of them horror haunted;
A demerited dark life-span mindset
That vanishes in the wild waves delighted.

I'm rarely dreaming.
Waking from a rarely dreaming,
I'm always screaming.
Only in my head, without a single sound,
But it's still far too loud.


Realities are deceiving.
I'm never sure of when I'm dreaming;
I'm always waiting for awaking.
The thoughts and doubts form a crowd;
I cannot look around.


I'm barely sleeping.
I'm afraid I will wake up in the evening,
And it's still the evening.
Being alone, in the deep night drowned,
Dreams or deeds astound.


It's a funny feeling.
The morning should be relieving,
Even if it's without meaning.
At least, I could be sure of the ground,
Not just being without a bound.


Am I dreaming?
I have no landmarks steering;
I might be sleeping.
Dream in a dream in a dream sowed;
In a mind that may be underground.

Natureza que cantas tão bem...

Alaridos que quero sempre na noite ouvir,
Lua que para mim olhas sem me sentir,
Os charcos das águas mornas que esperam a madrugada,
Vinhas com Uvas amadurecidas para a lagarada.

Tudo parece ser um ciclo que foi divinamente elaborado,
Fazer vinho me faz lembrar Jesus Cristo crucificado.
As uvas são pisadas e até maltratadas com pés de homens humildes e nobres,
Podem ser ricos e pobres.
A Deus eu não sei como agradecer,
Por sentir esta natureza que parece nunca morrer...
Abraço amigo,
Victor Marques

i wonder what color
our union is, what
would suit us best

we'd probably argue over
it, in that joking way
we had before -

but i'd take your wrists
and hold them above
your head:

          our color is
          chameleon

because we change
with the wind

and everything about us
defies a
one-color existence

linen sheets
& bedposts with
sheltered
secrets

it could be
ours, the future --
it could be ours,
but it blares
with a darkened
face,

its features
like the love
we make
in secret,
away from
the prying eyes
of the industry
and the world

they think
they know
you and
what you
break for

and boy,
they are so
wrong.

you don't need to
let anyone in. i mean, who
could ever love you?

i am sent to this
world to be your empath.
your eyes glisten and shine
as do mine;
but we breathe at the same
cadence.
(your faults are mine.)

there is soul between us &
our lives are lodged in between
a spark of timeless energy
someday soon will be released

i breathe rhythmically
and tonight i cried for you:
i shed the tears you
should have, and i am
enthralled with carrying
your burdens

i love you
but i'm
nearsighted
i'm asking too
much of you,
demanding for
you to come into
my life now.
i just don't want
to lose sight of us
because you are the future
with a beautiful face

To illume the earth,
The sun has to be burnt.
This instance is known,
So I too learnt.

That I shall be scorching,
When you would leave.
Infact, I would be hindered,
But bestow my wish to relieve.

Thinking how would be the eve?
When my eyes would have tears,
And no vigour in my sleeve.

Then a liquid which is ignobly famed,
Would be complice of mine.
Would console my heart in this way,
So I can weep and whine.