"clarissa" poems
Que grande a geração, a de Camões,
Saia de Belém, num pranto oral...
Dizia adeus a grandes multidões!
Olhava o horizonte pequeno Portugal
Traçado o rumo do futuro,
Passado o mar forte e indeciso,
Pegava no leme, firme e duro,
Sem dor, frio ou bramido.
As ninfas, rodeavam o leme,
O Sol, queimava a proa do navio,
O capitão nada teme
Naquele mar, escuro e bravio...
Victor Marques e Atavio Nelson
Chegamos a outros pontos,
Do globo esférico, sem saber!
Que hoje são contos,
Que ainda temos de ler.
Desde Ourique, Calado e Cala trava
Com turbantes brancos reluzentes
Os portugueses lutaram com palavra
Com alegria mostravam seus dentes.
Correram os desertos, tão estéreis
Na defesa de um Santo Universal
Pela cruz combateram infiéis
Dentro e fora de Portugal.
Oh.Isabel que suaves eram tuas flores!
Que rosas encarnadas pueris
Que as músicas sejam cantadas para seus amores
Prendes-te por milagre o teu Diniz.
OH Coimbra.que tiranas do fadário
Oh Sé velha, cheia de segredos
Que encantos lá havia do Hilário
Ainda hoje escritos nos penedos...
Santa Clara, no alto...que te vê clarissa
Jovem, esbelta coimbrã!
Foste, cedo freira e noviça.
Salva-me deste fado, minha irmã!
Olá Marquez, és do Pombal
Traidor, usurpador, ladrão.
NO ódio foste genial.
E TUDO, tudo metia no gibão.
Malandro, enganas-te o teu Rei
Iludiste-o, meu falso...e mandas-te
O Távora, inocente para o cadafalso
Maldito sejas!
Isso não foi Portugal...mas foi
No norte, que uma mulher
Forte, com seios apertados
E espada no dentes bem cerrados
Em serpente e com sua gente
Em zip filas genial
Firme.destinada
Deu a vida mas
Acabou com o Cabral
Sim ali, no monte
Naquele lugar Maria da Fonte
Só com gente destemida, como eu !
Tal como o Lusitano no Gerez
Esta pátria com um plebeu
Concebeu o Tavares com um grande
PORTUGUÊS
Victor Marques
Dec 10, 2009
Dec 10, 2009 at 10:27 PM UTC
Recollective thoughts of oblivion detailed to detailed satisfaction
Hadn't asked why from before-ance, t'was more an extremity of non understanding then
Asking the questions to fixate as an individual has its time frame
Sky is blue and white it appears
the full Moon was out yesterday
The light was not so shady
the clouds a darkened mist
The stars a faking glistening bliss
It was all about the aces
the places
and not the faces...
to be continued
© 2018 Clarissa van Vreden
Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 12:48 AM UTC
Caught in the Act
I leave him at my locker
My brand-new babe of a boyfriend
Clarissa walks toward him
She smiles at Charlie
I told him it would only take a second
To fill up my water bottle
I didn’t know she would show up looking for me
And find my current bae instead
I see her put her hand on his arm
His muscular arm, which should only belong upon my shoulder
Instead, it is running its hand through his hair
Anxious about Clarissa
She leans toward him in her lowcut tanktop
I sprint across the hall
With one arm reeling backward
A loud smack! fills the air
I see her put her hand on his arm
His muscular arm, which should only belong upon my shoulder
Instead, it is running its hand through his hair
Anxious about Clarissa
She leans toward him in her lowcut tanktop
I hurriedly make my way across the hall
And raise a fist, satisfied by the
Crunch! that follows
I see her put her hand on his arm
His muscular arm, which should only belong upon my shoulder
Instead, it is running its hand through his hair
Anxious about Clarissa
She leans toward him in her lowcut tanktop
I pace toward them both, and ask
What in the world is going on, then plant a kiss on my babe, smirking because Clarissa has been
Caught in the Act
Three different approaches, two violent and one vengeful
Personally, I’ve never been a fan of vengeance
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 5:42 PM UTC
You phase me
I've phased me
It was a phase I was in
Where you've known me
But when I see you
All that I can see,
Are those judge mental eyes.
© Clarissa C. van Vreden
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 5:48 PM UTC
you lied, I said, you lied to me
I have dressed myself to look pretty
who do you think it's for?
why, for me, of course, he said
his eyes searched elsewhere for beauty
Franz, my one and only Franz,
am I the one and only Clarissa for you? I asked
you waited
tick
tock
tick
tock
yes, yes you are! you said
the golden sun ripped through the blinds
you let out a sigh, a very sad one
and we spent the rest of the day
staring at each other
not knowing what to say
not knowing where to start
forgetting how to kiss and make up
must we, in this wave of falseness, lay?
Jun 2, 2019
Jun 2, 2019 at 4:58 AM UTC
Like the bee that stings to death
Like the poison that it began from
Like the spider, the God to web
Catching supper
© Clarissa C. van Vreden
Sep 24, 2015
Sep 24, 2015 at 5:33 PM UTC
I had a sense of clarity
It is moving past the stagnant things because I understand now that those things are not of importance
They are kind of like this darkness that you should rather look through and out of because expansion of this is more of what you don't need.
It's just there to shout. It's nagging and wants to sleep. It's upset because it gets too depth in wrong times in its own; In its own existence.
When that happens, your body has no life because you are stuck in your mind- but when you still seek creativity within your mind with this you can call it hell or its complete opposite.
You are either sad and in pain or find beauty in this pain and that could define beauty in darkness and maybe that is why black and white is so signifying together.
© Clarissa van Vreden
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 11:20 PM UTC
I’ve come to understand now that of course as someone is sleeping, the other needs to give respect and not wake that individual of course- It’s always been like that for in terms of that knowledge though maybe we are all simply put born as individuals where our brains do not mesh in any way shape or form other than talk about ourselves and unto ourselves to make points come across
That we are all individually intrinsic and that sleeping all together as a global spheric mannerism is just the way so that so that that can just be some way of understanding that humans are a certain way
It’s like we do this just in case the real out there aliens are alive for them to see what humanity is like that it’s its own planet meant for humanity. Other than it proves no point at all, when the lights go down low and the music begins to blare and the fireworks are in the air on a schedule that changes every, single, year
This is our Atmosphere
© 2018 Clarissa van Vreden
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 7:15 PM UTC
Judgement calls for the infiltration of none of it at all
The sad barrier that so many want to write about
to touch, to make reasoning of-
sad speech when feeling good,
thought of love for being hurt
in that touch of a moment for a waking call
of pens on poetry walls.
© 2017 Clarissa van Vreden
Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 1:59 PM UTC
As the sun rose down again,
the flight of being up,
made question
For when had flown,
running about to go,
further and then back up again
Sitting, resting, laying, testing dreaming of a scape canoe
waters still, risen unto
making way to where
feet hold, escaping the lovely day
© 2018 Clarissa van Vreden
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 6:28 AM UTC
the melody’s of love’s music is consuming
the words in lyrics all too knowing
here comes another love song
here comes another love song
something you feel like crying
you end up sighing
what’s left in your heart
that you thought you were done with crying
but you see it’s quite simple
tears an echo of pasts love is mellow
back to your own now for the sound of that details of the cello
the beauty signified more strummed but can you take it
can you hum
can you feel that it’s ease?
Back to the beginning now
hard without no thoughts sought out
but remember those happy days?
Sometimes in memories you remember it was only you still you not hays
then you fell in love with those interests you so strummed
you fell in love with that special someone that made the bass drum
and when it was all done
too consuming
love, the music, was too consuming
© Clarissa C. van Vreden
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 3:18 PM UTC
Oh my, you are one of a kind.
And if you would not mind, I would like to write and write
right next to you, while you read Clarissa Dalloway's story.
I would like to say that I am more of a Richard,
but I really am more of a Sally, minus the homosexual-ness.
Vivacity could be a substitute for my first, middle, and
last name on most occasions.
Yet, I exceedingly relate to Clarissa's adulation for Peter,
"it was his sayings one remembered; his eyes, his pocket
knife, his smile, his grumpiness and, when millions
of things had utterly vanished – how strange it was! –
a few sayings like this about cabbages,"
barring the pocket knight in exchange for a knit hat or two
that you would wear inside if it was a social norm.
Now as I would write right, my stream of conscious would pour out
like the musings of those about to attend Clarissa's party,
but most will never see my internal conflicts and revelations
because one of those revelations makes me mirror George Eliot.
I blanket most of my verses with a sheet of caution
because even when one's heart is on their sleeve,
that sleeve is a sheet in its own secularity.
As George said, or Mary for those who knew she really was,
"I like not only to be loved, but also to be told that I am loved.
I am not sure that you are of the same mind," and every so often
that is why my heart is evident out on my sleeve, and yet
the sleeve is steadfast.
So that is why I propose, if you would not mind,
to let me write and write right next to you,
while you read Clarissa Dalloway's story.
Because, "oh my," that two-word saying that I remember,
as if they are the analogous cabbages of you and I,
you are one of a kind, but so am I;
our minds are more the same than not.
The reality is, if I hosted a party,
I would not invite George, Clarissa, or any others;
I would invite only you, your eyes, your smile, your grumpiness, and your
knit hat, or hats, which I had let you wear inside if you would like,
and we would both read many stories
and write our own story right next to each other.
Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 7:36 PM UTC
Violets are grey
Berries are blue
Nettles are green
Cherries are red
Berries are purple
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Stems are yellowish
Seeds are green
Violets are grey
Blood is blood
Your blood is red
Mine might be blue,
or yellow, or orange, or pink
© Clarissa van Vreden
Feb 21, 2019
Feb 21, 2019 at 10:51 AM UTC
I awoke
In a pool of nostalgia
Of a memory so far
Yet so clear
Of a memory from seven years ago
Such a tender kiss
On the cheek
Of two lovers
Not yet thirteen.
Aug 6, 2019
Aug 6, 2019 at 7:51 AM UTC
Four winds,
four fires,
five flyers,
might migher,
rised higher,
faught tired.
Brought fire,
four liars,
rise flyer,
migh fighter.
Four signs,
water above,
four mighers,
buy, rider.
Five sighers,
tide nicer,
right lighter fire, fire.
Four tiers,
Earth fire.
© Clarissa van Vreden
May 14, 2019
May 14, 2019 at 6:32 PM UTC
In words of wording
in times of no time to wording
to inner wordings
to not misleading but leading
with what is more powerful
and human
Lies the knowledge of the deepest self
not in the partials but the overall
in the leading of the overall
where darkness can become home
where soul can be found to know
In subconscious array in sleep of away
remains the space that is so much to hold
to gather here in dissaray
to finding what you as one might like
a pleasing of some type of hell range
Fear whatever you must like to
know whatever you so despise to
find nothing in you
other than that space,
you can name home
© 2018 Clarissa van Vreden
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 8:03 AM UTC
Why do I seek darkness?
It's because I can see what shines the brightest
Miles away and I can admire your ways
In darkness relies truth,
In darkness relies knowledge.
Like a star you may be different when nearest but I can see you shining from far away and that matters.
Your smile can shine different here than imagination can because I feel it true,
because even when we're gone we can still feel it.
That's why,
I love darkness
© Clarissa C. van Vreden
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 3:56 PM UTC
As we get higher
we rise deeper in soil
A guardian mirror
like God protecting its mirage
Does one not feel fine through his own reflection?
Although, you look too hard, you get then
not the way you look at the moon
but the way you get too close,
you're afloat in a place you no longer belong
As we dig deeper
we find remain
finally as we fall under
we close our eyes
and there isn't any longer that mirror
from above as so deep under,
there's infinity
© Clarissa van Vreden
Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 12:21 PM UTC
Ether licking sentipede raising a bar in solitude,
flaming pink aftermath of candle wax,
say raise frequency to the mosquitos and its dandelions,
and the spiders no longer shake
Where the roots of Miss. Dandellion ached the pit of rottening veign.
She never wept like the rain that first dropped on the candle,
but her strength residual in licking sentipede.
Bathing in the bites of mosquitos at a constant,
keeping her ****** alive.
© Clarissa van Vreden
Jul 31, 2019
Jul 31, 2019 at 1:18 PM UTC
You had the way
you had your day
The night turned young
and the birds yeah,
they sung.
Today is different
you're in my psyche,
so far and gone.
Back to this what?
Back to that
My heart is a hummingbird
and you took that back.
See ya tomorrow!
© Clarissa van Vreden
May 9, 2019
May 9, 2019 at 6:11 PM UTC
She wore footsteps in her horizon
The fly flew exactly where it was aching to be a bee
The Aunt eater, was nibbling on her toast
The rat was born with its tale first,
Breathing on oxygen
The light has bugs burnt
The rainbow was the only thing left over, to be amazing
© Clarissa van Vreden
Jun 20, 2019
Jun 20, 2019 at 3:12 PM UTC
Look at the dark shadows...
They are crawling here...
Where light shed in super freezing lie.
In cracked shatter of demise!
Hell finds light in broken pieces brought from something nice.
Light, light, light how you marry the poor;
Pieces of tomorrow...
Dark bell shadow, how you came from yesterdays tomorrow.
Hey! Pure darkness,
find here the whisper of your sorrow.
Breath of pure morrow.
Fused like day in today, brought upon the sound of light!
Ever change in wonder?
No! Spoke solid in dark and depth,
die!
© 2018 Clarissa van Vreden
Jan 27, 2019
Jan 27, 2019 at 6:11 PM UTC
In title of detrimental view in sight of seeing in passing in time
it is not here but rather not there the viewing of ones perspective,
in complete and utter ruin of not truing the reality of the reality,
of evil lives' viewing
Never helpful,
never right,
never faithful,
always not right
Passing in time the non newness of creative reasoning
never a need for a fight
for many unlike yourself use what's there to make newness a creative flight
So let it be a part of what's in sight, truly as it is there for you a part of view a part of view
The boring days will have arose in this understanding as to why
when it is people like yourselves who can see this as sense
the undoing will never be pleasing,
never feel faithful
to your true knowledge of you
the diamond in the right
light, be light
© 2018 Clarissa van Vreden
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 3:51 PM UTC
Isn't so to say who you are.
It's about glittering eyes for dilated pupils.
It's about control.
It's about the movement of a butterfly's' wings.
Expression will always be there and if you think not it is there glim.
It can't hide but it can be in shadow...
resting.
© 2017 Clarissa van Vreden
Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 1:36 PM UTC
It's the evening
There is no thunder, yet
It's bound to happen eventually
It's like the time versus the weather,
and yet there is no knowledge to everything
The mysterious and the real happenings, bound, to be forgotten
© Clarissa van Vreden
Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 12:18 PM UTC