(image by alma)
Noite passada sonhei um poema
que gostaria de lembrar agora.
Eu vi o seu rosto
entre peixes amarelos flutuantes
e tijolos derretidos.
Você tinha um terceiro olho cego,
piscou ele pra mim enquanto pendurava
as páginas desaparecidas do meu diário
no varal,
uma delas o poema
de que não me lembro.
Last night I dreamed of a poem
I wish I could remember.
Among yellow floating fish
and melted building blocks
I saw your face.
You had a third eye blind,
you blinked it as you hanged
missing pages of my diary
on the washing line,
one of them
the poem I can't remember.
That's great! You really don't need to stop writing surreal poems. This is just like some of our dreams are : )
ReplyDeleteThis has happened to me - I dream lines of poetry and hasten to write them down before they dissolve, but they never look as good in the waking world, nor as profound as they were when I was asleep.
ReplyDeleteI wish there was a favourite button on the blogs - because this is a definite fave!
This is my second visit today...Google+ has set me on the right path. Try this surreal style more often...you got skills.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful. I need to try some surrealism. It means what was in your soul when you wrote it and what the reader brings to it.
ReplyDeleteLove it! This is poetic perfection :)
ReplyDeleteTeu blog é um dos meus favoritos!
ReplyDeleteBeijos Kenia!
It is so hard when one dreams a good poem and then cannot remember it when one awakens and wants to write it.
ReplyDeletepoemar ao vento
ReplyDeleteé sonhar
você como sempre
abs mana
I really like this, especially the ending.
ReplyDeleteO que me incomoda é exatamente isso, essa palavra que insiste no silêncio.
ReplyDeleteOh, very cool image here!
ReplyDeleteI love the irony of a third eye blind,
ReplyDeleteand the pages hanging out to dry.
Good poetry is of course dripping wet; a blessing to thirsty and drought-stricken alike.
This is truly wonderful, Kenia.
love the playfulness in this but i want to know why the blind eye guy has your journal and what his intentions are. and despite his airing everything, he sees nothing. why do i want to kick him in the knee? and why am i the only one?
ReplyDeletexo
erin
love this one!
ReplyDelete