"coelho" poems
Uma casca solta, prisioneira de uma falha perfeita,
Perfeitos são o mitos, aos olhos de gente fechada,
Explicações são fraquezas, de acções de fachada.
Não sei mais quantas vezes eu repetirei, a ceita!
O peixe escorregadio, que vadio desaguou do mar,
Se esconde na toca do Coelho, que é toca desafeita,
Num segredo moribundo, de computador de aldeães,
Segundo um mito motar de um braço partido ao luar!
Essa vaquinha que pastou, pintada de vermelho corado,
Desfeita tantas vezes no pasto, moribundo da praia vazia,
Era apenas um segredo, pintado nas veias do tal marado,
Que mais ligada que a mentira à realidade, produzida, diria!
Que se fodam os mitos, que se lixe o correto, porque certo?
Estou eu, e eu, segundo os mitos que considero correctos,
Não tiro nem ponho, continuo caminho fora, boquiaberto,
Enquanto penso, na esperteza dos enxames concretos!
Na sementeira alheia, vanguardeira cairá tão perto,
Seu ***** espaço de terra, de um vazio moribundo,
E eu cumprida a missão, estarei bem melhor decerto,
Porque tudo como nada, tem um preço de vinda ao mundo!
Escolhas guardadas comigo, desde o dia que nasci,
Cabe ao meu cérebro processar o dia, é costume,
Que de tão leve vive meu lume, que ela não teme,
Limpeza de água, que cai e faz fumo, e aprendeu!
Autor: António Benigno
Código de autor: 2013.07.25.02.10
Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 5:08 AM UTC
" I met her two years back in a park,
I swear it was she, who approached me first!
Don't know if it was an excuse or coincidence,
We were sitting opposite,
She basking in the sun, reading for fun...
I too reading... but with a seriousness too deep to notice nature...
Then she suddenly approaches me and says,
Hey!! You are reading the same book as me,
I glanced up in surprise (or was it 'awe'?)...
and notice her holding up the same book,
Paulo Coelho's 11 minutes...
and I smiled but before I could say anything,
she squeaked, *"Guess even you like books with **** things"*,
and I finally finding my senses, exclaimed...
*"It's a Coelho Classic. **** things are better in real"*
We became friends and met now and then,
but to cut things short...
One year later,
It was few days shy of august,
We were holding hands,
walking around the plaza,
when she suddenly drags me into a dark corner,
looks me into the eye
and then breaks into a tight hug,
She leaves me surprised with an intense kiss,
my mind dizzy, and we let go of eachother
as the city lights become dim...
Two years later,
I thought nothing could go wrong,
I was married to her and was working in a top post,
but destiny had thought something else for me,
I didn't know how things ended up like this...
I was on my knees,
and there were hundreds people running opposite of me,
Red and blue lights discoed in front of my eyes,
Sirens and announcements filled up my mind,
Only men dressed in black and blue came towards me,
They had shields and protective gears,
they had formed a circle around me.
My girl was crying about 300 meters away,
held up by these dressed men,
crying for me I guess.
I noticed that I was all wired up in a mess,
a machine tied to me ticking,
and I only sweating...
Two men with a toolbox ran towards me,
they were observing my torso,
No, maybe that ticking machine...
And all I could do was look at my crying girl,
and wonder if she would...
if she would, for the last time,
Hold me tightly... "
- © OutcastDreamer
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 9:44 AM UTC
Close some doors today, not because of pride, incapacity, or arrogance, but simply because they lead nowhere - Paulo Coelho
Nowhere hurts more than nothing.
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 8:39 PM UTC
Beijou-me
e imediatamente senti seu gosto amargo
sob minha língua.
Tragava teus sentimentos
para um presente distante.
Não importava o ontem;
não importará amanhã.
Seu nome, seu número,
sua memória,
seu endereço virou canudo
e me levou pra outra toca.
A história, sempre a mesma:
Um curioso, um coelho,
Um papel, um chapeleiro,
Uma toca, o mundo inteiro.
Sentia meus pensamentos voarem;
de copo em copo, trago em trago, tiro em tiro,
mais e mais
pra aquele instante.
Por vinte minutos...
ou doze horas.
Não importa;
o doce sabor do seu néctar lisergia
não tocou os fios loiros da Aurora,
já não está aqui agora.
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 6:10 PM UTC
What I learned in life is,
That no matter how good a person is,
sometimes they can hurt you & because of this we must forgive.
It takes years to build trust and only seconds to destroy it ..
We don’t have to change friends if we understand that friends change..
The circumstances and the environment influence on our lives,
but we are the one who responsible for ourselves..
That you have to control your acts or they will control you..
That patience requires much practice.. that there are people who love us,
but simply don’t know how to show it..
That sometimes the person you think will hurt you and make you fall..
Is instead one of the few who will help you to get up..
You should never tell a child that dreams are fake, it would be a tragedy if they knew..
It’s not always enough to be forgiven by someone,
in most cases you have to forgive yourself first..
That no matter in how many pieces your heart is broken, the world doesn’t stop to fix it ..
May be God wants us to meet all the wrong people first before meeting the right one..
So when we finally meet the right one we are grateful for that gift ..
When the door of happiness closes, another door opens..
but often we look so long at the closed one.. we don’t see what was open for us ..
The best kind of a friend is the kind in which you can sit on a porch and walk…
Without saying a word & when you leave it feels it was the best conversation you ever had.
It’s true we don’t know what we have until we find it, but its also true,
we don’t know what we’ve been missing until it arrives..
It only takes a minute to offend someone, an hour to like someone,
a day to love someone, but it takes a life time to forget someone.
Don’t look for appearances, they can be deceiving, don’t go for wealth even that can fade,
Find someone who makes you smile, because it only takes a smile to make a day better,
find what makes your heart smile..
There are moments in life when you miss someone so much..
that you wish you can take them out of your dream and hug them for real..
Dream what you want, go wherever you want to go.. because you have only one life..
and one change to do the things you want to do ..
The happiest people don’t necessarily have the best of everything,
they just make the best of everything that comes their way.
The best future is based on the forgotten past..
You can’t go on well in life until you let go of your past failures and heartaches.
Aug 11, 2017
Aug 11, 2017 at 2:04 PM UTC
I once knew a guy. He worked 2nd shift at a factory. This ************ was always complaining about how much he hated his job. How can he not be grateful to have a job that pays $9.75 an hour?!
He would always say that he made $16.00 an hour when he was working construction, which he
Had been doing since he was 15 years old. Is he a ******* lunatic? If I were making $16.00 an hour, Id have a hell of a drinking problem, and a wife who I could look at while we **** **** this kid is a rotten liar. That was his story until about 3 or 4 weeks later. Now he was a boxer. "Yeah, almonds are really high in protein, and protein helps build muscle back up after its broken down."
I cant believe these ******* ignorant people are actually believing this kid. In less than a month he went from a supposed construction worker, to a boxer. ******* Bob the builder to Rocky… If he was making $16.00 an hour, why would he take this job? I asked him this one day, and he said, "My boss was just too much of an ******* What a line of **** Like I said. I would give my left ******* nut to be making that wage. If he's serious, then I am currently speaking to the dumbest ************ I have EVER met.
"I'm a boxer now, don’t **** with me"
Do you think you’re a badass because you're wearing a shirt that says Stone Gym, with a pair of boxing gloves around it? Let me explain something you little punk….If you were EVER to try some of your little **** games around me, I would take a ******* crowbar to your neck without a second thought. Think about it….What would win? A crowbar? Or some ******* tattooed knuckled hands? Think about it.
5 weeks later….
Next thing I know he is coming into work with books. Charles Dickens, Henry D. Thoreau, Paulo Coelho, Kahlil Gibran, Plato….
What the ****
So you're really working your way up the ladder. You go from construction, to boxing, to being a ******* scholar? Let me tell you something you little ******* these ignorant factory pigs might be buying all of your ******** but I'm not. Let me guess….You're going to be writing poetry in the next "phase" of your life….
Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 1:23 AM UTC
There are no more secrets in this world.
Everybody knows everything about everybody.
Just today
13 people
from my social bubble were
LIVE on Facebook;
One of them was taking a ****
and reading Coelho while at it.
Everyone is LIVE now,
forgetting to be ALIVE for once in a while.
[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zsbTKjzp-4A]
Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 5:14 PM UTC
. . .
with the earth radiating from the light
and human existence out of sight,
your “personal legend” can be found
if motivation is pursued around.
preaching the search to encounter your soul,
coelho clarifies your spirit can be transformed whole.
the wanderlust embodies the mind and the heart
you are you and the truth cannot be forgot.
leave behind the past and hold on to the present for perhaps
worrying of the future time will sooner elapse.
power is wondrous and can amaze even you,
the strength you attain controls beyond what you knew.
this book has character speaking straight to within
eyes interpreting the messages you may pass to your kin.
so find yourself on adventures to perceive what the world has to share
& your "personal legend" will reveal itself by your faith and prayers.
. . .
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 12:28 AM UTC
According to Paulo coelho without
solitude love will not stay long by your side,
because love needs to journey through
the heavens to reveal itself in other forms.
So baby when. I whisper solitude like an unforgiven question mark
Don't coil up in a ball of fury, with a mighty roar
But please understand. my love,needs rest.
My solitude is not the absence of your company
but the moment where my soul is free
Where my uncharted spirit is free to speak with it form
My love needs to journey
through many heavens to love you
Baby realize this
loving you is not easy
my wondering eyes pierce through
many uncharted heavens contemplating
whether there is another angel up above for me
My solitude sets my mind free
My solitude sets my heart free
My Solitude reminds me that my love is an act of faith
and not merely an exchange of wants.
Baby realize this. It's so lonely when you don't know yourself
My solitude reminds me of not being afraid of my own shadow
my solitude reminds me of why I am enough
My solitude howls at me like a shadow in the dark reminding me
not to be afraid of the void .
Of the unknown
my solitude reminds me of why I said yes
my solitude is my only warm embrace to why
I spent countless nights dreaming of you
So please remember this
embrace my solitude like a long lost love returning back to you
and take faith in this
even though I journey through countless Clouds into the heavens
I will always come back to you.
Free form from the atmosphere
Ready to love.
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 12:19 PM UTC
The rain falls once again
I sit on a chair near the balcony
Opening the window
the strong scent of rain
drills through my nostrils,
The thoughts of cacophonic
sounds inside my head
looming suddenly disappears,
The rain still falls hard but gently
the sounds of it creates
a relaxing sound that you like to hear.
I open up a book of Coelho's,
Reading till page seventeen and
I closed the book and got up
Going to the kitchen I warm up
some black coffee to drink,
I picked up my favorite mug
and poured the steaming hot
coffee that just finished heating up,
I hold the mug feeling it's warmth
with both hands, holding it tight.
I walked back at the balcony
Sitting at the chair and placing the mug
I look at the view in front of me,
of how these tiny water droplets
stay still when falling down the air
and breaks after falling to the ground,
and I remembered, "Oh, that was me"
I take a sip off this piping hot coffee
I feel the warmth spreading
and glanced at the beyond and there
I became deathly still.
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 4:02 AM UTC
Like breeze caressing in its
trap a feather grey in air’s
flight so have I
been caught
in un fulmine dei pensieri di
appena circa una dozzina
di minuti
fa.
And I have to most urgently
capture Me in this
flight and non-tormenting
air bubbles coming
out of my watery
&
treelike sight
by
breathing this moment
of realisation
gently
yet hard/strongly
while I’m at it,
at Shepherd’s meaning
of Treasure in
Coelho’s work cast
especially on me
& my antics of Now.
And that letter
here to be
shall be
lost
for a moment under
that pencil:
scribbling on sun-scorched
plane passing,
logophilia
and greater future to come
and
be
done.
For when you
finally
drink from a little bit
of Life itself in
you without any stimuli
foreign to you,
you’ll see that
It
is it that’s the most feverish
in what’s the best,
the sufficing binge.
I’m giving into
your hands this
redemption of mine till
I
AM,
for currently it
is the biggest truth
given to me
by
Allah.
I sense these Signs
as they find each other on Me,
like they make me insert
all the answers,
intentions,
with a hard semblance
and the durability
of the terrace wood
against my worked up skin,
in my lungs.
To where will my Own Legend
lead me?
There are certain
premonition
and in-depth
in this moment,
in the castle of the epilogue,
of the book,
in crystal blue,
in how all the world now
persists in my head
desiring to leave
a trace somewhere here
so as not to let go
of my hand
from its.
And the Sun
that parts almost at
dusk through
a hollow in the clouds
stormy-like
behind my back
seems to be winking, glance throwing,
of a foreboding,
of its presence,
waning,
on what will be able
to come.
And it’s gone.
And how Pueyo would say it:
“May no one deprive
me of living.”
I say it to all the pop culture,
and these false suns
“I’m not yours to take”
as much as I can.
And should we not listen
to understand
instead of
to reply?
Aren’t constant thoughts
that replying,
and pure being that
taking in (all the striving),
like when facing forest
in a
cold
prickling
air
to encounter?
Hold me like that,
that as I am,
in your hands
for a while.
Sep 2, 2020
Sep 2, 2020 at 9:18 AM UTC
It was the downtown coffee shop where they first met
A beautiful morning on the first of May.
She glanced up from the Paulo Coelho book she was reading,
Into hazel eyes that refused to look away.
Fast forward to a year later, outside the same place.
He got down on one knee.
"I will love you forever, Marry Me" he said.
She whispered "yes" for all the crowd to see.
Five years later she lays in bed,
On stained pillows that bore marks of the tears she has shed.
Heaving dry sobs as she remembers way back when,
He promised he wouldn't cheat on her again.
Two months later she feels a pain in her chest.
Doctor says it's terminal, she has a year at best.
He breaks down and begs forgiveness for the cheating
The deceit, the lies, and the girl who won't stop calling.
She withers away right in front of his eyes
And he's left with no answers and nothing but whys
Remembering the day at the cafe where they first met
She died 2 months later, leaving him with nothing but regret.
Jun 21, 2017
Jun 21, 2017 at 9:36 AM UTC