-
it’s time
It’s time to face your mother
her opinions and contradictions
her dissatisfactions and criticism
her looks and tears
It’s time to forget your ex
in the most rational way
in the coldest hour of the night
in your best memory of them
It’s time to call your old best friend
to see how they’re doing now
to revive memories of a lifetime
to set up your next encounter
It’s time to hold yourself
give force to your truths
give comfort to your flaws
give peace to your instincts -
only you
If I only had you here
I would listen to your breath
time would kindly disappear
inside the silence’ depth
If I only had you here
there would be no need for text
songs would play for us to hear
anything that we would mess
Fearless actions
out of my control
are putting friction
to my burning soul
There is nothing else I want
than your warm and restful hands
my patience reached a point
of dangerously high demands
If I only had you here
peace and harmony would last
over fear, over this, over year
urge for longing would meet past
—
Kind Regards,
Temporarily Yours,
Babin -
leave
For what it’s worth,
for when you’re there,
for when I’m here,
forever I’ll think,
about massive promises we made
I’ll practice patience
like you taught me to,
I’ll find time to imagine
where we’d have headed to
among thousands distractions running forward
Can we be friends?
as someone said
Can we avoid pain?
choose love as ritual instead
of fear as tool for self-defence
Before you leave
I won’t hesitate
Before you’re free
make sure to separate
the deeply-rooted hopes of bitter taste -
question it all
A life without a meaning
does it worth my time at all
I will question it all, I’ll question it all
And a house without a sealing
dreaming will not get you heating
I will question it all, I’ll question it allAnd the right, then the left
I forget if it’s war or peace again
You would question it all, you’d question it all
After all those ears of anger,
I see mercy and tender
You would question it all, you’d question it allStuck in the house forever
All efficient, whatsoever…
We will question it all, we’ll question it all -
it’s not over when the fire is off
When a candle is about to turn off, you see its light turning slowly down.
At first, the fire won’t burn anymore, the light is off and the oxygen won’t be burned at the same speed and quantity as if the fire was still on.
The smoke starts to float in the air, composing different shapes in the space. The smoke goes up and feels light. It is also fading away while going up and up. You usually start to smell the smoke at this point. Perhaps that same smoke will never come back, at least not in the same shape and colour as it first appeared.
At this point, the candle is not completely off. The little piece that was burning is still incandescent, that piece is still on fire, and it’s still charged with enough energy to start a fire.
The candle is turned off because the fire is gone, but it’s still alive.
The candle is temporarily out of wax to burn, but it’s not dead.
The candle is wishing for that strong wind that comes once in a while and blows and spreads its remaining incandescence to meet a new place where to start a new fire. Preferably somewhere where its fire can be stronger and healthier.
—
I am the candle
My thoughts are the smoke
Your love is the blowing wind that keeps me alive -
his guitar, his star
The man who trusted other people
The man who had trust in other men
He was there to share and mingle
simply doing what he canSings blues and soul out of his gut
wishing for eye connection
He used to walk in mud
dead bodies and war infectionHis guitar spoke a foreign language
One that I could not define
His voice was carrying a heavy luggage
lost in memories, hard to findHe was that kind of men
who would lend me his guitar
who would show his deepest scar
without doubting the brightness of his star -
feelings are more complex than words
When we feel
it’s hard to be easy
and words are not enough
to express freely
While we speak
there is always a risk
to swallow every feeling
in your favourite drink
I wish I feel the same
beauty and horror
it’s not enough, you see
to stare yourself in the mirror
I’m sure I understand
when you talk to me
it’s common ground
where words make sense to me
We all feel differently, you know
while we speak the same damn words
Are you gonna ever show
what you hide behind those nerves?
We’re all special, trust me hun
each feeling has its own sound
So listening is key, my bun
and each little wave will count -
evenings
I know why I like evenings.
Because the darkness creates mystery in town.
Because the shadows create silence and that space where you could hide.
It’s the absence of light, or better, the warm shady light of the public streets that creates a certain atmosphere.
During the day people are busy and are stressed and rushed because they are spending energy to gain something, to win, to achieve, they work and many times work too hard.
In the evenings, the energy level and the reactiveness of the nervous system go down. Our minds and bodies demand rest, before going to sleep and having to live another full day of work and events to process.
I like walking in the evening streets just because I like it, and not because I need to get somewhere, to meet someone and do something.
During evenings, it seems that the world becomes less functional and transactional.
During this time, usually people do what they like to do, after spending their day doing what they have to do.
uma-voz
expressive journey
uma-voz 