Torn pages

Image: Claudio Cretti / Jornal de Resenhas
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By GUILHERME E. MEYER*

five poems

a promise
when all seems lost
reminds me that courage lives in despair
and in dreams that never took us away
reminds me that nothing lasts forever
and every second contains the chance
from a new beginning
reminds me that hope is risk
and our scream
is part of an echo
reminds me that pain breaks us
and don't need
and every fight carries a promise
not even the hardest stone can withstand the force
of all this water

 

fire is nothing new
days I barely remember
I feel bad if they pass
the heart is a closed apartment
and even the walls are the color of dismay
(the windows covered in old poems)
what would become of me without
your words in the ear
eye wrinkles
a tired body
million dead
and another autumn
pieces of those who only think in pieces
..........................................................[and the fire
it's nothing new

 

Friday, March 20, 2020
coffee stained pages
will it ever stop hurting
there's no more reason to cry
there's nothing to be afraid of anymore
nothing else is ours
that's what we have
a dream full of risk
a drunken delirium of desire
a hope without waiting and full
of revolt

 

letter against the firmament
                                                                                                I'm sean bonney

today I got up at dawn
and read poems by katerina gagou
you were found dead
somewhere in berlin
katerina committed suicide in 1993
the future is now or it's nothing
no one else erases our revolt
three more clicks to the left
the body full of letters and letters
and torn pages
our immense loneliness
beer bottles in row
the damn sound of sirens
and austerity measures
don't believe in anything
that comes out of their mouths
today, where the future does not exist and the flowers
only make us sadder

 

a sea of ​​revolt
bus on fire and windows blown out
the voice of the silenced
in the language of looting and explosives
“For the third day in a row
the stock exchange closed early”
the army in the streets
love me now. everything burns
“state of emergency” the norm
the real face
of the state of affairs
“a very, very empty city”
a grain of sand
a sea of ​​revolt
squeeze my hand
and does not let go. now it only remains to bring up one
another emergency

 

* William E. Meyer is a doctoral candidate in English and American Literature at New York University.

 

 

 

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