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"rubra" poems
O choque congestiona o fluxo sanguíneo. A cabeça erguida entra em declínio. As pernas tremem de não aguentar o peso. O mundo desaba todo e o deixa preso. Nos olhos já se observa o desatino. A face rubra paralisa sem destino. A boca seca torna-o surpreso e o ombro, de pronto, deixa de ser teso. Escorre pela cara lágrima salgada com o gosto do destrato da mulher amada que desce ríspida à travada glote. Como um antídoto à honra humilhada, retorna do estômago feito cusparada e o faz erguer em busca do que o esgote
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Nov 11, 2010
Nov 11, 2010 at 4:42 AM UTC
do chORO à fúRIA
I lowered my bucket into the well of words And raised it up, hand over fist, While syllables and phrases sloshed about, Some spilling over In my eagerness to drink them deep. Oh, how I wanted to be filled up. The words poured out, And they emptied into the clay jar of my disconnected soul, Rubra terra terra firma incognita Plant me deep and water these roots. (Am I real? Will I always be?) And oh, how they filled me up. I spoke the words aloud, And they slithered between the cracks of my shattered glass self, Amber crackled sunlight streaming right on through, It looked like I would go on forever (and ever, ever) And oh, the words broke me open.
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Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 1:35 PM UTC
And I Spilled Out (Semper Sum)
I walked the cedar trails of Morse Mountain Yesterday, solemn knowledge in my bones, And blanketed grief beneath a certain Old Slippery Elm. His branches reached stones I used to throw with my father, before Cancer stole from generations like leaves Windswept while green, what we try to ignore. Acceptance blooms like rubra flowers — ease My troubled skin, and give me quiet hope In the form of vibrant cardinal trills. My spine turns to paper. Grand periscopes Of things revealed as my brittle roots still: Creation comes in cyclical stages — What small joys will be made from my pages.
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Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 12:14 AM UTC
What We Leave
Merely two turgid leaves of purple— more haiku than sonnet. Yet, like Caesar’s Tyrian robe, there is grandeur in you.
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Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 9:39 PM UTC
To Lithops Optica cv Rubra