Thursday, March 27, 2014

Poeta

Temperos, panelas, utensílios
Dedicação, paciência, precisão
A oscilação das altas e baixas temperaturas
A alquimia de alimentos e especiarias

O amor que nutre
A imaginação 
que mescla sabores
A paixão que cria
A beleza da composição 
A estética do carinho
A poesia em ação 

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Empty

Empty days of empty souls
Empty nights of useless talks 
Disapointments and failures
Screaming at each other 
The hurt and the pain
of a long dead young love
and its hope for eternity

Monday, March 24, 2014

Elsewhere

Find love
Find love elsewhere
For now I'm dead
Inert
Alone

A desert
An Island
A missing plane
I'm gone

Find love elsewhere
I'm dark and hopeless
A blank space
A gap
Find love elsewhere

Saturday, March 22, 2014

Chinês

Levantou e foi buscar um café. "Maldita dor de cabeça!"  Uma dor fina, aguda, o dia arruinado.
 - Como se uma agulha esguia e comprida atravessasse o crânio e perfurasse o cérebro, sabe? Um chinês de longos bigodes segurando a extremidade da agulha e empurrando-a lentamente.
- Por que um chinês?
Agora pronto! Uma dor dos infernos, uma suadeira depois do café, um calor da peste e ainda essa pergunta: - Porque não? Chinês não pode? 
- Só perguntei!
- A dor é minha, ué? Se é chinês, japonês, árabe, que diferença faz? 
- Esquece! 
Se arrependeu da resposta grosseira, mas não pediu desculpa! Pedir desculpa exigiria tempo, explicações, enfrentar o chinês, puxar-lhe os bigodes, imobilizá-lo. Entrou no quarto, fechou as cortinas e deitou-se. 
Ouviu a porta batendo. "Agora foi!" Pensou no quanto a resposta atravessada ainda ia render em acusações de grosseria, egoísmo, falta de cuidado. Sabia que não adiantaria, mas tentaria explicar:
 - Foi o chinês!




Thursday, March 6, 2014

Beers on the balcony

He opened the door and let her in. His wife and kids were travelling, visiting relatives. He did not remember when was the last time a woman with no relation to his wife had entered that apartment. The female presence at their home had always had some connection with her, a friend, a sister, her mother... 

She stood there a while. He seemed to have forgoten what to do in situations like this. "Oh, please, have a sit!" She sat on the edge of the couch. "Would you like something to drink? A beer, perhaps?" He thought of offering wine, but worried it would make his intentions too clear. Who was he kidding though? He knew, she knew. They were there to have sex. "To fuck, that's why we are here!", he thought, while grabbing the beer bottles. "That's all it is!" 

They had been working together for three months now, touching one another lightly on the shoulder or arm whenever they talked to each other, occasionally resting a hand a little longer when offering a pen or picking up a signed document, smiling at each other from across the rooms and exchanging furtive, but intense, looks when no one was watching. It had been a long time since he had been with another woman, but he begin to consider the possibility. And to be honest, in the past month, the thought ocuppied most of his time. 

Now, the opportunity presented itself and he just felt a bit ridiculous, concerned about the drinks and even wondering if he had misunderstood the signs and simply fantasized the whole thing, a way out of the boredom. The desire was there though, the urge. "We just have to get this out of our systems and we'll be fine! I can go back to being the good husband and dedicated father and she can go back to her own life. It is all under control!" 

He brought her the beer. They drank a few gulps. It was a hot evening. He offered to turn on the air conditioning. She suggested they'd go out to the balcony. There, standing side by side, they looked at the city lights in silence. Now, slowly sipping the rest of the beer, they looked at each other. He moved to kiss her, gently, at first.Then he bit her lips, her neck, one hand pulling back her hair, the other moving up and down her back, caressing her while attempting to  undo her bra. He pressed his body strongly against hers, she wrapped her legs around him. 

He woke up with the morning sun, burning his skin, stinging his eyes.  The curvy tanned naked body of a woman by his side. Her head resting heavy on his arm. He looked up at the blue sky. Another hot summer day. 

He left her asleep and stood naked on the balcony, watching the business men and women heading to work, marching rhythmically on the sidewalks. "It is early. We could still get to work on time." he looked at the little people down crossing the road. "What to do about breakfast? Grab something on the way would avoid the awkwardness of talking. It was all under control!" He went back and called her: "It's time. We have to get going." She opened her eyes, looked at him and pulled him back to bed.