#AFORISM 612 /CONDOR LIGHT WINGS# - GRAÇA FONTIS: PAINTING / ILLUSTRATIVE ART/Manoel Ferreira Neto: AFORISMO POÉTICO BLUES



POST-SCRIPTUM:


Havia prometido escrever um Aforismo Blues, só no espírito a música. Escrevi primeiro em Inglês depois traduzi para o Português. Assumo a influência de Bob Dylan no estilo e linguagem de música blues, no Inglês, o estilo e a linguagem poéticas são meus. Aqui cumpro a promessa. Quem sabe no inter-dito não haja a música? Esta aforismo lírica blues será publicado em Português logo a seguir.


Present to-pres-ent, pres-ent-ificando
Evening night of us veiled
Shadows on the sidewalk, calm on the street
Desolate


Bohemians rest nostalgias
The forgotten guitar in the closet
Sleep lost from vain loves, ephemeral passions.


The poet covers his mustache, looks at things, objects
Alone at the bar table weaves verses
Without stanzas the stars prefigure
From emotions to unconsciousness of the eternal
Disfigured pages, erased letters
Occult sciences.


Lacks ask for lost dreams
On the threshold of the moon
That strikes glitters in the solstices of the night
Presented as idiosyncratic comedians,
{Apres} - [ent] -ando,
I walk before you ...


From feelings, cigarette smoke
Empty
Eyes blink, breath contained
Long thoughts weave time
Gone with joy, happiness, laughter.


Love configuring the spirit of the soul
Thirsty for verbs
Ad-jacentes to never of conquests
On the threshold of feelings, affection, tenderness
In breast chitoses, the presence of the delivery
Conjugated happiness of subjunctives
Clear, transparent, clear
Obnubilados of ideals, utopias.


The poet alone at the bar table
The ash from the burning cigarette
The smoke fading in the air
Elbow on arm of chair
Left hand supporting the chin
Pity about the page in which he wrote
The poetic re-verse of the letters ipsis
Look at the night away
No hours, no time
Loose, free, left in the emptiness of the moment
Ontens are gone on the light wings of the condor.


Written on the pages of souvenirs
The litteris of images evoked from touches
The absolute of love, intimacy of the body
Lures the light of creation's climax
Pleasure, rapture
The moments of the night pass without seconds.


The corner of the owl elsewhere to eternity
You are free in the recesses of ideals.


The owl's song elsewhere to eternity.
You are free in the recesses of ideals.
(...)
(...)
(...)


(** RIO DE JANEIRO **, MARCH 05, 2018)


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