sexta-feira, 21 de março de 2014

Destination: Poetry

Today is the day of the foreword.
The past word in past tense
Struggles today –  the foreword day
To become actual and present and real
As present and real it is. And actual it cannot be
As today it is known to be the day
The miserably glorious day – of the foreword.

Introduction to madness, blue prelude cushion
Tearing us down in words of joy
Waves today as this is the day of all
That it cannot be actual for unreal it breathes
As the foreword leads to blooming airs
Blooming as it should be – as it is not,
Nor was meant be today – the blooming prelude day.

And when the newest daffodils are able
To chant and a new born jack-in-pulpit
Spits in the face of the dark mask once described
In today’s scope, in the foreword, predicting
A death, declaring word-springs, world-springs,
A luxury prologue prophecy – a heat inside
And a new poem rises as the last one dies.

Maria Fernandes

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