(mis)Impressions

I'm feeling something
but I don't know what it is.
I'd normally guess it's hunger
but I just had something to eat.

It's also not anxiety,
for that's always with me;
and this started last night
when my heart in a different rhythm started to beat.

It got me smiling
and daydreaming for a bit...

But then I remembered reality,
where all of this truly started,
and at once I was reminded,
that perhaps I was misreading
an unusual pleasantry
for a wishful dream;
as if taking for my missing half
someone who could just be
another version of me.

Caged Bird

Caged Bird
By Maya Angelou

A free bird leaps
on the back of the wind  
and floats downstream  
till the current ends
and dips his wing
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and  
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings  
with a fearful trill  
of things unknown  
but longed for still  
and his tune is heard  
on the distant hill  
for the caged bird  
sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn
and he names the sky his own

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams  
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream  
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied  
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings  
with a fearful trill  
of things unknown  
but longed for still  
and his tune is heard  
on the distant hill  
for the caged bird  
sings of freedom.

My Heart and I

My Heart and I
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

I.

ENOUGH ! we're tired, my heart and I.
We sit beside the headstone thus,
And wish that name were carved for us.
The moss reprints more tenderly
The hard types of the mason's knife,
As heaven's sweet life renews earth's life
With which we're tired, my heart and I.

II.
You see we're tired, my heart and I.
We dealt with books, we trusted men,
And in our own blood drenched the pen,
As if such colours could not fly.
We walked too straight for fortune's end,
We loved too true to keep a friend ;
At last we're tired, my heart and I.

III.
How tired we feel, my heart and I !
We seem of no use in the world ;
Our fancies hang grey and uncurled
About men's eyes indifferently ;
Our voice which thrilled you so, will let
You sleep; our tears are only wet :
What do we here, my heart and I ?

IV.
So tired, so tired, my heart and I !
It was not thus in that old time
When Ralph sat with me 'neath the lime
To watch the sunset from the sky.
`Dear love, you're looking tired,' he said;
I, smiling at him, shook my head :
'Tis now we're tired, my heart and I.

V.
So tired, so tired, my heart and I !
Though now none takes me on his arm
To fold me close and kiss me warm
Till each quick breath end in a sigh
Of happy languor. Now, alone,
We lean upon this graveyard stone,
Uncheered, unkissed, my heart and I.

VI.
Tired out we are, my heart and I.
Suppose the world brought diadems
To tempt us, crusted with loose gems
Of powers and pleasures ? Let it try.
We scarcely care to look at even
A pretty child, or God's blue heaven,
We feel so tired, my heart and I.

VII.
Yet who complains ? My heart and I ?
In this abundant earth no doubt
Is little room for things worn out :
Disdain them, break them, throw them by
And if before the days grew rough
We once were loved, used, - well enough,
I think, we've fared, my heart and I.

Shallow Dive

Sometimes we meet a person
and we think they are the most
beautiful song we'll ever listen to

They make love stories finally make sense
fairy tales to feel so real
color to have sounds
and sounds to tickle your skin

And through them we become capable of seeing so much of
joy
goodness
time
hope

There's this thrilling sense of an unforgettable adventure

It's alluring
breathtaking
mesmerizing.

But just then,
into the thin air,
everything disappears...

...when you find out about

the lies
how they used you
how so easily they tossed you away

"Easy comes, easy goes" they say
Couldn't be more true

The illusion shatters into glassy pieces
And into those glassy pieces I glance
and those pieces become a mirror

And into that mirror I dare to look.
and in there I dont see what my mind truly yearns for
--a passage to a different, magical world--

what I really see,
at first,
are this once soulful green eyes,
now filled with a raging fire, a desire to break free and to be dark and mean
I felt my soul colder than ice
My emotions greyer than an empty sky

So I closed my eyes
to let this darkness take over me

a materialising shadow involving me

And my heart didnt race
my mind, still
my body, relaxed

I died for a moment
And when I finally opened back my eyes

to see what all that darkness had turned me into
to see what mean weapon had it given to me

I saw...
Me.

I saw...
Hope.

O Me, O Life!

O Me! O Life!
BY WALT WHITMAN

Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring--What good amid these, O me, O life?

                                       Answer.

That you are here—that life exists and identity,

That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

 

Changin'

E você quer mudar e não pode. E quer saber tudo, fazer tudo... Quer poder resolver todos os seus próprios problemas e os dos outros...Mas, novamente, não pode.

E aí você percebe que já/ainda tem 20 anos e que provavelmente tem uma estrada inteira de vida pela frente.
Que ainda tem muito a aprender E muito a ensinar...
Muito a ouvir, a ver. Mas também muito a falar, a mostrar, E a experimentar.

Mas sente que poderia ter feito mais, que poderia ter feito tudo melhor e ter ajudado e acompanhado todos aqueles lhe são caros.

E aí se dá conta de que gastou muito tempo olhando para frente e para trás e que poderia ter olhado para o presente e não ter perdido alguns lances, relances e oportunidades maravihosas.

Então, os "e aí" acabam e você simplesmente... vive. Vive da melhor maneira possível.
Para ter sua vida, seu futuro e garantir todo o resto que sonhar.

Vive.