What a bold gringo asking for the quotation in Portuguese, instead of English! I know he has never been a poetry enthusiast, but it is hard not to fall for some verses of Fernando Pessoa, specially his alias Alvaro de Campos. Pessoa is his most shameless, drowning in his passions and contradictions, politically incorrect, unafraid … Continue reading Pouring a heartache into another
I hoped his touch would not be as good as I dreamed, that his kiss would not be so perfect, that his sex would not be so amazing. I sincerely prayed reality fell short of fantasy. We were both trembling, shivering from head to toes, when we met at the airport. He came straight to … Continue reading Hearts and Tongues
The Waking Theodore Roethke, 1908 - 1963 I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. I feel my fate in what I cannot fear. I learn by going where I have to go. We think by feeling. What is there to know? I hear my being dance from ear to ear. I wake to sleep, and take … Continue reading Waking in the lap of nothingness a girl shall be someone.
Same old story? Same old, same old. If only the feelings were not so intense. Well, as if there isn´t a thing about me that is not intense. Same old, same old. And it is amazing how old habits may come in new bodies, younger men. Same old, same old. Same patterns. Borrowed men, borrowed … Continue reading Old wounds from new loves.
Circles on my forehead you drew, and although I thought it was a strange act of tenderness, I began to like it and drifted under your touch. No need to talk: I just relaxed. I need them now, the circles, I need your touch, the golden sparkles in your iris. I need to drift on … Continue reading The Man and the Love
Flee. Fight. Fuck. Feed. That´s all that God has meant for us. You are hungry: you feed. You are in danger: you choose whether to fight or flee. You fight for territory if need be. You feel desire or the impulse to procreate? You have sex. There is a very basic level where we function, and it … Continue reading The primal gospel of being.
Ganhei de um ex... é tão estranho se ver pelos olhos de outra pessoa! Mais me assustou do que lisonjeou. A invisibilidade é sempre mais segura... SEGUNDO SONETO DE PATRÍCIA Que eu pertença ao seu passado, que seu presente seja sempre refeito que ao se lembrar de mim você se lembre de nós, da … Continue reading Um soneto para mim…
Anaïs Nin had an interesting life, she was someone who lived the tales she told in her books. Her books often ring like a personal account of some kind. Her experiences were daring and outrageous in the first half of the XX century, and might seem not a big deal if you consider the changes … Continue reading A spy or a master of deceit: not me.
Netflix´s Punisher is not the comic book Punisher. From the first time the character hit Daredevil, I considered them two different beasts. Comic book Punisher Never been an A-lister, never had any superpowers. A badass psychopathic vigilante killing machine. I have never cared much about the back story, or about the plots. The Punisher was … Continue reading The Punisher S01… so… likeable! Meh! Just a few spoilers.
We, socially inept, pathologically shy and introverts are legion. We hide in plain sight, from everyone, we hide from those we love the most. I am not an accomplished seductress, someone sexy and sensual. I´ve loved platonically so many times I lost count. Loving like that is like loving a piece of art. You don´t … Continue reading Snippets 7 – loving a piece of art.