I refuse to lend my voice to the chorus of war, to the relentless drumbeats of conflict that stain the very earth with the blood we all share. While you may take pride in your warriors, that is your prerogative, and I will not cast judgment upon you for it. Yet, I cannot bring myself to acknowledge these primitive methods of resolving disputes. Instead, I choose to offer my admiration and reverence to those who champion peace, who seek to mend the fractures of the world with compassion and understanding. The anguish befalling the Palestinians is a stain upon humanity, … Continue reading Peace …

In the dance of existence, I am the unseen observer, the silent witness to every tale, every joy, and every sorrow. I am the essence that permeates the fabric of creation, the echo of laughter within thunderstorms, the tears that fall beyond the constraints of time. I am the poet and the poem, the weaver of words, the melody and the harmony, the reason and the rhyme that threads through the tapestry of life. I am neither bound by distance nor confined by proximity, for I am the vast expanse that encompasses all. Within the vast cosmos, I am the … Continue reading I am the unseen observer

Feeling the poetry of life is an indelible mark, etched into the very fabric of our being, a mark we carry even when we believe we are the ones carrying it. It’s a poignant realization when we attempt to shape poetry, chiseling words like sculptors, orchestrating rhymes, meticulously counting syllables, and refining verses. These words become captives, meticulously crafted for the eyes of others, seeking approval, bound by the shackles of discipline. Yet, when we allow ourselves to be carried away, poetry transcends mere construction; it becomes intertwined with our senses, an organic extension of our very existence. Words then … Continue reading Poetry

Potessi, ti ruberei ai tuoi giorni, come un ladro di emozioni, un rapitore di sogni. Ti porterei via dai tuoi pensieri, come un mago che incanta la mente e la libera dal peso dei giorni. E della mia carne farei la tua fame, nutrendoti di passione e desiderio, saziando la tua sete di amore. Potessi, ti rapirei in un vortice di sensazioni, in un turbine di emozioni che ci avvolge e ci trasporta in un mondo solo nostro. Ti avvolgerei in un abbraccio che cancella il tempo e lo spazio, in una danza senza fine, in una messa d’amore celebrata … Continue reading Potessi …

Between the tears and the joy, there lies a vulnerable space where I shed my layers and stand exposed, stripped of pretense and facade. In moments of sorrow, I am laid bare, my soul open and raw, unguarded, and unadorned. The tears wash away the masks I wear, leaving me with nothing but my truth, my essence, my humanity. And in the midst of laughter, I find myself equally exposed, my defenses crumbling in the wake of unbridled mirth. The sound of joy peels away the layers of inhibition, revealing the unfiltered, unrefined version of myself. I am naked in … Continue reading I get naked between the crying and the laughter

In the poetic kitchen of life, we gather the ingredients of our soul. We seek out the flavors that will nourish us, that will make us whole. And in this search, we find a recipe, a poetic recipe, that speaks to our every need. Cecilia Meireles brings us a bit of grief, a seasoning that reminds us of the fragility of life. Manoel de Barros adds a sprinkle of childlike wonder, a reminder to find joy in the simplest things. Fernando Pessoa offers a dash of wisdom, a flavor that fills us with insight and understanding. Vinicius de Moraes stirs … Continue reading Poetic recipe

We all carry within us a world that no other human can ever truly visit. It’s a lonely feeling, to know that there may never be a person who can understand every molecule of your life, every thought and feeling that passes through you. We yearn for connection, for the ability to touch someone’s knee and feel the weight of their experiences, to know the fear that consumed them in childhood, the happiness of their freedom, the way they fell headfirst into love for the first time. We accumulate within us all these worlds, all these stories that we’ve lived … Continue reading Keep dreaming, keep yearning …

On the sacred grounds of remembrance, we gather on this hallowed day. November 20, a beacon of light, where Black Awareness unfurls its wings, soaring high above the Brazilian sky. A day to honor the rekindled flame of self-discovery, as the black community embraces their worth and contributions to this land. In the depths of history’s archives, I embarked on a quest, unearthing the fragments of my lineage. Through old files and weathered books, I traversed the corridors of time, guided by an ancestral whisper. In cursed objects, hidden away, I found the echoes of my past, the trunks and … Continue reading Black Awareness Day

Within nature’s embrace, my heart finds comfort and joy. It is a love affair with the undulating greens, a symphony of sunshine and lime, adorning the tips of majestic trees. Each leaf dances with the gentle breeze, whispering secrets of life and resilience. I am captivated by the sprouting blooms, delicate petals unfurling like a painter’s brushstroke upon the canvas of the earth. Every brave speckled mushroom, a testament to nature’s whimsical artistry, emerges from the fertile ground, inviting wonder and curiosity. The forest, a sanctuary of scents, unveils its new fragrances with each passing season. Spring’s patient hand bears … Continue reading Nature III

I am a canvas painted with myriad emotions; a tapestry woven with the threads of my own existence. I have learned to craft internal landscapes, where the brushstrokes of my thoughts create intricate patterns, and the words of my own literature dance across the pages of my soul. Sometimes, I find myself in need of water, my inner sea parched and longing. I wander through my arid landscape, feeling the scorching heat of hot winds and the emptiness that seems to stretch endlessly. It is in these moments that my weary feet stumble upon the rugged terrain, and my soul … Continue reading A lone traveler