is but the sound of wind.
We are bees of one kind
looking for the honey of life.
The honey is in our souls.
THE FIRST KISS LASTS FOREVER
The first kiss lasts forever
and nothing will never break
its well-deserved magic.
You fixed me. I was a soul
without a purpose.
Look at me again, with those eyes of yours
that can make one
feel special, even when they’re not.
I’m a poet and always will be,
but I would trade all my poetry,
all my gold,
if I could preserve this moment
forever in my mind.
The marble horse rides
the western night.
There were times when
I would flee from all sorts of
love and compassion.
Now I have everything -
and my hands on the future.
(She watches the world go by
as an innocent child
eager to understand its shapes and purpose)
The policy of lovers.
The endless will to live the moment
and never let go of it.
To choose someone to live with,
and share hopes and dreams,
and a place in the sun.
The gods knew what they were doing
when they made us.
THE HYACINTH OF THE GARDEN
Life is beautiful
when you have your eyes,
and the music
and the premise of another
unforgettable day
with an unforgettable woman.
Endless dusks we wasted
in the harlequin of your garden.
“Who are you, for real?”
she asked me.
“I am the atom of reason, of love,
of the thrilling battle
of feelings.
I am the one who will grant you
eternal beauty.
I can feel,
if I write.”
SUMMER’S ALMOST GONE
Summer’s almost gone,
and all we’ve spoke,
all the things we wondered
will forever remain
behind.
And if it weren’t for the endless nights
we tried to stay awake,
would you still deserve an eternal place
in my placid and everlasting heart?
No, I’ll never set another foot in those lands.
I’m tired and old. And we both know
the future will stain our smile.
The summer’s almost gone,
but I prefer the aching rain
to the warm palace
of a king a posteriori.
When the winter arrives,
there will be no heat
for the blacksmith
to forge the moment
you and I asked him
to build with the anvil
of dreams.
When the summer’s gone,
the fireplace will awake
and burn a thousand dreams,
promises of wonder years,
two souls in adolescence
forever lost to manhood.
“Can you promise me
you’ll stay here,
and wait for me?”
“I promise.”
I will never forget
the times we had,
but the summer’s losing
its warm colors.
So I leave you,
before we grow too fond of each other
to regret.
The summer’s gone,
the birds are gone,
and the ship is waiting.
And we both knew
the future would one day soon
stain our smile.
SOLITUDE AND A BEER
I opened a beer in the morning.
I’m losing her sight, bit by bit,
now that the horizon is fading away.
You still are and always will be
the only ship I would dare to sail.
SADNESS ON A SUMMER’S DAY
Do androids dream
of electric sheep?
Sadness and sorrow
on a summer’s day.
I picked a lion’s tooth.
Thought it’d taint your heart,
but I lost mine instead.
Will I ever grow
in dry land?
About those birds
that grieve with me
by my window,
do they ever fly?
Does Love knows
she made a promise to me?
Does Love knows
we dream about him
day by day, night by night?
Love. Do you know?
You exist, and so do I.
Electric sheep in dreams.
I walk the night alone,
and I stay away from lighthouses -
Love will have to figure out a way
to find me in the darkness.
THROUGH THE WITHERING GLASS
There’s an agenda
in the lost temple of acid.
Solipsisms again.
Merciful magic grows
inside our brains.
Come along with me.
Let’s stain the world.
I have a poem we can use.
Pills of fantasy,
take me to her,
where I can see her, and talk to her,
and tell her how I love her again;
where I can assiduously keep on
loving her again.
TO A CERTAIN GRUMMET
Death is competing
for the core of his soul.
Racing again,
with snakes in the edge
of her jaws.
That poor lad is dying,
and what an horrible death it is
to die so far from home,
in the middle of the sea,
where no name can be
carved in a stone.
“Will you do the grave for me?”
“O, my sweet friend,
the soul of this ship -
do not let her conquer
your world.”
But she always has a way
with words.
There he goes.
Last moments of a friend
who burns with the fever
of living.
Leaving the throne to the king slayer,
he finds his peace again,
and his brown eyes turn to blue.
“Please, do the horse kiss
and forgive the past.”
were his last words to me.
MORNING STAR
The goddess woke up
and greeted the day.
All flowers began to blossom
as the rivers and the grass
regained their true colors
in the sun.
I grab my pen
& let my hand shake viciously.
The day is only
half away ahead of me.
TRUE LOVE IS ETERNAL
The night you and I kissed,
I felt the space of the sky
in the sight of your eyes.
In the old taverns, when I was
still living from the land, I heard the tales
of those who sought in the horizon
more than just a beautiful sight.
So I followed them, and aspired their dreams.
I dreamt of a new love, a new home
and a new wolf pack.
I found it all of that,
and for that I am grateful dead.
Now I must travel again,
far from the languid western night,
with dead eyes and a dry mouth,
and a knapsack filled with melted drea
ms.
My wonder years are over
now that I’ve learned what it means
to be a man.
ODE TO THE MOON
Ceased moon that once enlightened me,
from your millennial death you reborn,
in my eyes that seek you,
to guide me back to where you left me.
THE SOULS OF THE SHIP
The lost ship sails his last doubts
& finds himself again.
The souls are free from sin,
at last.
A nautical feeling blends
with the empty head in the morning.
I want to tell you
that all that I’ve learned with you
I will carry with me
forever.
My love for you,
that which is unique and perfect,
will remain untouched
by the sweet bird
of youth.
Howl of the living wolves
who burn forever
with the hot fever
of endless love.
Now I must leave this ship
and seek again for another light.
Somewhere, it is said, there’s a fountain
where men drink in peace
and dream together
in harmony.
For as long as I’m blessed with the gift of life,
I will thank the sun every morning,
and I won’t need a reason to do it,
because I am at mast.
***
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
André has been alive for 19 years and he enjoys writing bios in third-person. He began writing at the age of 15, and during that time he discovered the lyrics and sounds of The Doors, Jimi Hendrix and Led Zeppelin. He found them so beautiful he wanted to be a poet and a musician too. And so he hit the road.
At the age of 17, André got lucky and had 50 poems published in a book called 'Poesia Nua' («Naked Poetry» in english), with the help of Corpos Editora. After that, he spent two years writing and watching his words changing tone and growing bold.
While in his first year at college, he started worshiping Bukowski and Hank Moody in the television show 'Californication'. André decided to leave poetry aside for a while and try his luck in prose. And so he wrote a novel.
With endless collections of poems written in both portuguese and english, and a first novel already finished, this is a guy whose biggest goal in life is to be as cool as Bukowski. Nah, he's just kidding. André just wants to write.
Aside from all that shenanigan, André believes everyone has a unique vision of the world and that is why everybody just write it down and turn it into something as everlasting as words and books.
Afterall, anyone can write. All it takes is a the will to do so.
OTHER PUBLISHED WORKS:
IN PORTUGUESE:
Poesia Nua (2012)
Verdes Verões Distantes (2014)
Dias de Juventude (2015)
IN ENGLISH:
At The Gates Of The Golden Sun (2014)
WHERE TO FIND ME:
THE SOULS OF THE SHIP
2nd Edition
Notes & corrections made in this edition //
- Corrected gramatical errors;
- Corrected formatting errors;
- Other updates include the section ‘About The Author’, ‘Other Published Works’ and ‘Where To Find Me’.
16/02/2015
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