Wednesday, March 19, 2008

4 poems by Teresinka Pereira


On the monitor's screen
I have all the world at my service.
But I don't have you,
who are all my hope for happiness.

Chance is always playing
with my destiny, desire,
my trips, separations.

What is good about loving,
when for your secrets
I live with anguish and indecision,
standing alone
at the very last corner of this old
and now globalized Planet?


So many people to see
the vertiginous flight,
the beginning of the torture,
and the fascinating screaming
of the actors in front stage.

The punishment is the utopia
that our enemies are after...
For my part, I limit myself
to sharing my vow and
to forget without forgiveness,
a multi-dimensional treat
in this minimum space
where the words break
like crystals and the thought
is our worse hangman.


What's the use of my life
without your internet messages,
without my mistakes and imperfections
to give you chances to forgive me?
What's the use of my silence
if it doesn't worry you?

What's the use of the night
without unsleeping poets?
What's the use of religion
without the belief of the atheists,
and the sensations of lucidity
which boil inside them?


To go back to living a normal life,
do as not have meaning anymore.
My head cannot think
in ordinary images,
like taxis on the street,
sounds of a city which
for a few hours became silk sheets
to acommodate our desires
and the old callus reproduced
in words, like substatial codices.

I learned fast enought the dimension
of a smile, of a handshake
or a kiss on the face.

Now I try to turn my back
on a conflictive imagination.

What's the use of the abyss
if the suicidal craving
would not exist?

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