O Meu Eu

Imperativamente condicionado pelo meu eu,
Tempestade arrebatadora de meu imbróglio,
Sonetos de Inverno a óleo,
Inconstância que não magoa, mas adoeceu.

Incansavelmente ser perene,
Sustentado com a nostalgia,
Navio sem proa nem leme,
Rebento de tristeza e alegria.

Cortejado em corte divinal,
Infortúnio é sempre fatal,
Pintura lastimável de um grande pintor,
Estigma do meu eu multicolor.


Victor Marques

I like mine two cream, two sugars my addiction sans friction.
You see coffee is my benediction to alphabet soup.
                                                                                                         Sing as song of sixpence.
                                                                                                         a pocket full of rye.
                                                                                                         four and twenty blackbirds
                                                                                                         baked in a pie.
Sister Loretta.That witch.
She gave me my first hit.
So long ago I had forgotten.
5 foot 2 eyes of blue. In a nun's habit.

I was all of eight years old and full blown away by the woman showing her chin and brow
in the Caribbean heat cool as the other side of the pillow Strange. Even then strange that a woman
would choose to dress in a black full length jacket that swept the ground as she walked.

Sweet as cane syrup. patient as a monk.
She gave me the love of words.

So Where is sister now I wonder ?
Probably pushing daises from under. That was many years ago.

Mia culpa. But I always wished for x-ray eyes. to see beyond her disguise.
Was she all woman or some holy mutation.
built to reject natural passion.
Mia culpa.
sister Loretta was forbidden fruit. One of god's many wives.
And I could only have one ?. Hmmmmm leme think this one over.

Blasphemer.
8 year old wood is hard to mess with.

Any dude out there who went to parochial school and did not have that one
on the replay spool, throw yer hands up.
.....That is what I thought.

Okay. just had my cuppa Joe.
And now I'm gonna let you go.
Just wanted you  all to know.

Sista Loretta was Smokin Hot.

In no position to do naught about it
As the world came crashing down in frantic chaos
All about him memories that had once sneaked away or ran off screaming
Stood around him now in random positions staring at him
From a distance that they could not cross

His eyes  strained to accept these visions seen
Through a thousand layers of reminiscent stain
There in his doorway sanctuary  of his Alleyway Kingdom
He continued taking measured sips
From the glass bottle that now hovered like a hummingbird
When making Touch and Go love to a flower
As the fear in his eyes  belied the visions so frightful in their simple acceptance

On the top layer of his folded up extra coat ..padding for his concrete throne
Steady sound of drip drip drip  the golden nectar as it fell from his trembling lip
And from Far Below and somewhere way out behind
He managed to find his grimy index finger
Still attached the very hand that found it and carried it to him
So that he could point it all around
You and  you '- and you no...no no
I don't remember ..you NO! Just leme lone...

Then in a momentary pause allowed because
He endeavored to steady that uncontrollable waggling finger long enough to get focus on the crosshairs and when he  did ....

...what he saw... instead

Was not all bad memories as there a few happy smiling faces
Then he remembered those things he had forgotten
I don't blame you he said out loud I knew you when you were gone that you just went cuz the rest of them had

And that very second his grimy wagging finger came to a stuttering and then steady stop

On a face he didn't recognize

Just as the bottle in his hand crashed in a silver bell sound and silver shards  scaterred
As if playing a dirge as  his words criss-crossing and slamming into hers -  the two merged

Who are you !  he managed from the rusty hinges of his seldom-used vocal cords

Just before he dived after the golden liquid nectar

He heard her voice as it cut across and got through

  The sweetest voice ,the sweetest  sound , the sweetest words and the very last he ever heard

Sir ..! I work at the bakery down the street and I was hoping you would allow me (the three douhnuts slipping from her hand
had not hit the ground. ...before)
  to give you something to eat.
  
He heard it all as they reached their mark
Just before... he tumbled into the dark

He was dead before she reached him
And though she didn't. know a thing about him
She yelled to a person passing by to please call 911
Then she sat there crying with his head resting on her lap.

"So he wouldnt be alone."

The king was dead....his lonely reign ... all his bitter pain. and his life was salvaged. ...by three doughnuts
and the kindness of a stranger.