"bito" poems - Hello Poetry

Careta era o cavalo A quem o sal dado Em mim sangrava. Tinka, um dos 2 cachorros – Meu predileto era o Leão. Brigavam como cães e gatos. I Think era como o chamava - ao primeiro dos cães o americano missionário. Shibiu, ou será Chibiu? – era o cachorro de dona Modesta Nossa mãe adotada: sempre atenta A que nenhum bicho nos agarrasse. Lembro-me também do Bito – Aquele disgramado, culpado duas Vezes por esta cicatriz que trago No meio das costelas e no fardo Pessoal que carregamos vida afora. Bito não era bode expiatório – mas cabrito imolado tampouco. Acho que era o diabo tocando viola. Eu alimentava os porcos Sem expulsar ninguém Morro abaixo...

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Jun 14, 2015

Jun 14, 2015 at 7:51 AM UTC

adalberto-de-queiroz

Traduzindo a Infância (Bichos)

Careta era o cavalo A quem o sal dado Em mim sangrava. Tinka, um dos 2 cachorros – Meu predileto era o Leão. Brigavam como cães e gatos. I Think era como o chamava - ao primeiro dos cães o americano missionário. Shibiu, ou será Chibiu? – era o cachorro de dona Modesta Nossa mãe adotada: sempre atenta A que nenhum bicho nos agarrasse. Lembro-me também do Bito – Aquele disgramado, culpado duas Vezes por esta cicatriz que trago No meio das costelas e no fardo Pessoal que carregamos vida afora. Bito não era bode expiatório – mas cabrito imolado tampouco. Acho que era o diabo tocando viola. Eu alimentava os porcos Sem expulsar ninguém Morro abaixo...

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'Time is so strange here,It goes slower.'Said the pale ghostly boy.He slowly trudged next to me,feet seeming to shuffle forward step by slow step.His feet barely touched the ground. He was roughly seventeen or eighteen. His face had no trace of human emotion, as if waned by the afterlife. His voice seemed unconnected to him, it was disembodied and all around us. He came to a stop infront on me. 'We don't get visitors often,' he said. I replied, ' I sort of ended up here accidentally.' He smiled then, a sad all knowing chilly smile. It sent a surge of fear through me. He said, ' There are no mistakes. You are here for a purpose.' I was lost and disillusioned. I still expected to wake up and find that i was merely dreaming. I would give anything to be in my warm comforting bed right now. Instead, i was in a damp dungeon talking to a ghostly form. I asked him, ' Are you dead?' He seemed puzzled by my question. He replied, ' This is not the end, if to you death is an end. It is merely a gateway to a more static existence. I still exist.' My spirits sank when i heard this. If he was not a figment of my imagination, maybe i was dead too. I would never see Lulu and Bito again. Tears trickled down my cheeks as i let the pain i had been shutting out come flooding it. It was truely over, the existence i had abused and abhorred. I wished for another chance, maybe it would end separately.

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Apr 14, 2013

Apr 14, 2013 at 6:28 AM UTC

EmmelineEm

Where time goes

'Time is so strange here,It goes slower.'Said the pale ghostly boy.He slowly trudged next to me,feet seeming to shuffle forward step by slow step.His feet barely touched the ground. He was roughly seventeen or eighteen. His face had no trace of human emotion, as if waned by the afterlife. His voice seemed unconnected to him, it was disembodied and all around us. He came to a stop infront on me. 'We don't get visitors often,' he said. I replied, ' I sort of ended up here accidentally.' He smiled then, a sad all knowing chilly smile. It sent a surge of fear through me. He said, ' There are no mistakes. You are here for a purpose.' I was lost and disillusioned. I still expected to wake up and find that i was merely dreaming. I would give anything to be in my warm comforting bed right now. Instead, i was in a damp dungeon talking to a ghostly form. I asked him, ' Are you dead?' He seemed puzzled by my question. He replied, ' This is not the end, if to you death is an end. It is merely a gateway to a more static existence. I still exist.' My spirits sank when i heard this. If he was not a figment of my imagination, maybe i was dead too. I would never see Lulu and Bito again. Tears trickled down my cheeks as i let the pain i had been shutting out come flooding it. It was truely over, the existence i had abused and abhorred. I wished for another chance, maybe it would end separately.

1

co ja ci zbuduje w tych ruinach -bito, zwane "europa"? drugą japonie? nie! czwartą rzesz! ostatani paradigm, i koniec! koniec! koniec z republiką! starców brak! i mądrości! dość! na hun'ah z garścią, czy razem w, garści; tu, austriak, zwany ****** kurwa mać... - to nie mozart! - będzie, po śmierci błagał że nie był, na tyle zdolny, by mieć lud, w garści... pod szyfrem: cien, i żelazny gryp: dobra dobra... orto-doks... gryp... uścisk; teraz co... mam klękać? tylko jak grek, w istambule... jak polak... w... lwowie; ko-, i je, i o.

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May 27, 2017

May 27, 2017 at 6:15 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

ein vierte ***** (bo co ma człowiek, tak naprawde, czuć?)

co ja ci zbuduje w tych ruinach -bito, zwane "europa"? drugą japonie? nie! czwartą rzesz! ostatani paradigm, i koniec! koniec! koniec z republiką! starców brak! i mądrości! dość! na hun'ah z garścią, czy razem w, garści; tu, austriak, zwany ****** kurwa mać... - to nie mozart! - będzie, po śmierci błagał że nie był, na tyle zdolny, by mieć lud, w garści... pod szyfrem: cien, i żelazny gryp: dobra dobra... orto-doks... gryp... uścisk; teraz co... mam klękać? tylko jak grek, w istambule... jak polak... w... lwowie; ko-, i je, i o.

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