Month: April 2024

1 Comment

On Indigenous Peoples Day,

beatrizesmer

Let us weave a flag of colors, a symphony of stories, and honor the threads that bind us to ancient lands. You, my miscegenated soul, bear the hues of a thousand sunsets—neither black nor white, but a kaleidoscope of ancestry. In your veins flows the Karipuna river, its waters whispering secrets of resilience. The Rio Jamary Karipunas, nearly lost to time, dance in your blood—their footsteps etched in the Guaporé drylands, a sacred map of survival. Your lineage, a mosaic of nations, defies borders. Portuguese winds from Ceará State kiss your cheeks, while Dutch echoes from Sergipe State linger in … Continue reading On Indigenous Peoples Day,

Leave a comment

Mirror

beatrizesmer

I have been both the weaver and the thread, spun through the loom of chaos and cosmos. I have tasted the gods, their ambrosia bitter on my tongue, and danced wild and unhinged, a dervish whirling in the ecstasy of oblivion. I have doused myself in liquor, the elixir of forgetfulness, and ran naked down the street, shedding the shroud of conformity with every liberated step. I have known the thrill of theft, the adrenaline of being stolen from, the shattering and the being shattered. In the crucible of experience, I have witnessed the birth and death of the universe … Continue reading Mirror

Leave a comment

Love, my dear, is the truest magic …

beatrizesmer

In the labyrinth of childhood, where innocence and wisdom intertwine, we are handed a series of enigmatic scrolls—the teachings of elders, the echoes of tradition. First, they whisper to us in hushed tones: “Be good, little one, and the world will bestow upon you gifts aplenty.” And so, we tiptoe along the tightrope of virtue, balancing our deeds like fragile porcelain, hoping that our goodness will yield a harvest of treasures. But then, the winds shift, and the scrolls unfurl further. The elders, their eyes alight with fervor, reveal another truth: “Beware, for there lies a fiery abyss where sinners writhe in eternal … Continue reading Love, my dear, is the truest magic …

Leave a comment

Saudade

beatrizesmer

In the quiet recesses of the heart, where emotions swell and recede like the tides, there lies a space so constricted, so intimate, that it grips the soul with an intensity that is almost tangible. Here, inside, so tight, a lump form in the throat, a silent sentinel of the words unspoken, the feelings unexpressed. The heart, a vessel of thought, beats to the rhythm of unuttered dreams, pulsing with the cadence of silent musings. It is the crucible where the alchemy of emotion transmutes the mundane into the sublime, where the ordinary is imbued with the extraordinary. From the … Continue reading Saudade

Leave a comment

In the tender whispers of poetry, I lay to rest the burdens of mine …

beatrizesmer

In the sacred sanctuary of verse, I seek solace in your essence, a draught of inspiration that leaves me bereft of my own being. Here, amidst the tender whispers of poetry, I lay to rest the burdens that weigh upon my heart. Here, I traverse the landscape of language, each word a steppingstone drawing me closer to your visage. And should the trials of time prove too arduous, should the expanse between us demand the ultimate sacrifice in the name of affection, know that my spirit will have intertwined with yours in the final dance of devotion. For love, that … Continue reading In the tender whispers of poetry, I lay to rest the burdens of mine …

Leave a comment

Surround yourself with people who make you happy!

beatrizesmer

They are the sunbeams that pierce through the clouds, warming your soul on even the coldest days. Their laughter dances like wind chimes in the breeze, a melody that lingers long after it fades. People who make you laugh are the magicians of existence. With a mere word or gesture, they conjure joy from thin air, turning mundane moments into sparkling gems. Their humor is a bridge that spans across hearts, connecting us in shared mirth. People who help you when you’re in need are the life rafts in the tempest. When the waves threaten to engulf you, they extend their hands, … Continue reading Surround yourself with people who make you happy!

1 Comment

In the Depths of Madness

beatrizesmer

I am not here to compete, nor to parade my eloquence. My words are not a battleground, but vessels—hollow and waiting. Dip yourself into their depths, and you’ll find more than ink and syllables. There, your madness flows, intertwining with my veins. It pulses, a tempest, more potent than mere blood. In this quiet rebellion, we become more than words. We become whispers, etched into the marrow of existence. Copyright © Beatriz Esmer Continue reading In the Depths of Madness

1 Comment

Love’s nature

beatrizesmer

Love is the prayer that birds sing, their melodies weaving through the morning mist. It’s the soft rustle of feathers against the canvas of dawn, a whispered plea for grace. Imagine your heart as a drawer of blessings, each one carefully folded and tucked away. When you open it, you feel the weight of these sacred bonds—their colors vibrant, their touch both tender and resilient. In the quiet abyss of days, where shadows reign and light tiptoes cautiously, love finds its path. It navigates the voids, tracing constellations of hope. Time becomes silent, and silence itself becomes a balm, soothing … Continue reading Love’s nature

Leave a comment

My heart does not beat … it spanks me …

beatrizesmer

Within the chaotic depths of my soul, where thunders of love and echoes of longing reside, my heart does not merely beat—it rebels. It is a wild drummer, pounding against the walls of my chest with the fervor of a thousand storms. Each throb is a testament to the untamed dance of my spirit, a rhythmic spanking that awakens every fiber of my existence. It speaks in a language only the soul understands, a dialect of desire that courses through my veins like liquid fire. This heart of mine, it does not beat… it spanks me, reminding me that to … Continue reading My heart does not beat … it spanks me …

Leave a comment

In the quiet of the night,

beatrizesmer

Our bodies danced to a rhythm known only to us. Fingers brushed against skin, tracing delicate paths across thighs, leaving trails of warmth. Softness met softness, and in that tender collision, we discovered secrets hidden in the folds of our existence. Your lips found solace on my back, imprinting kisses like whispered promises. With each touch, you unfolded me, as if unseating shoulder-bones and undoing hips were acts of devotion. My spine, a delicate manuscript, yielded to your touch, revealing chapters of longing and desire. “I am not a bird,” I whispered, my voice a fragile confession. “I am not … Continue reading In the quiet of the night,