Tuesday, November 15, 2011

#517

(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.

14 comments:

  1. That's great! You really don't need to stop writing surreal poems. This is just like some of our dreams are : )

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  2. This 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.

    I wish there was a favourite button on the blogs - because this is a definite fave!

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  3. This is my second visit today...Google+ has set me on the right path. Try this surreal style more often...you got skills.

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  4. Beautiful. I need to try some surrealism. It means what was in your soul when you wrote it and what the reader brings to it.

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  5. Love it! This is poetic perfection :)

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  6. Teu blog é um dos meus favoritos!

    Beijos Kenia!

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  7. It is so hard when one dreams a good poem and then cannot remember it when one awakens and wants to write it.

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  8. poemar ao vento
    é sonhar

    você como sempre

    abs mana

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  9. I really like this, especially the ending.

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  10. O que me incomoda é exatamente isso, essa palavra que insiste no silêncio.

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  11. I love the irony of a third eye blind,
    and 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.

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  12. 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?

    xo
    erin

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Deixe suas linhas tortas │Leave your crooked lines│