Poemas de Rafaela Lopes. Revisão de Lourenço Duarte.
- Ego
Lofty green apple
Hanging flush in the tree
The sun watches you dazzle
The butterfly and the bee
Shiny green apple
Hold onto your seeds
Hide from the cycle
Lest they fall to the weeds
Sour green apple
You were dewy and free
But time doesn’t dawdle
Now you rot like debris
Silly green apple
Feed the earth’s needs
Feeling feet trample
As nature proceeds
- The exact middle
moisture drips down the walls and coats the ceiling
the scenery in muted tones like a sepia photograph
edges blurred like an unfinished painting
I watch from above, a mere observer in a ghoulish museum
my body is rooted to the bed
chest unmoving and eyes dull
cheeks speckled with dust
from sooty eyelashes
blood clots in veins that once
streamed beneath sallow skin
flesh decomposes as the air stagnates
smelling of mould and decay
moss and mildew leak out of a bluish mouth
rot
purged from my body
along with me
I wilt and I wither
no longer body or soul
but somewhere in-between
- empty, except for
(inspirado pelas aulas de história e cultura medieval da professora Angélica Varandas)
Light
filtering in through
stained glass windows
in the old cathedral
spilling like ink or paint
weaving stories
a kaleidoscopic tapestry
on stone floors
Light
echoing off the walls
bouncing all the way up
to vaulted ceilings
and coming back down
playing with shadows
in-between pillars
empty, except for
the beyond reaching back
as you tread fingers
through the gossamer fine
incandescent
4. ghost
little wandering ghost
tacky sweetness coating her teeth
caramel, honey, cream
candy floss, melted sugar
a numb tongue and sticky fingers
picking the flowers of the neighbourhood
from their earthy beds, while
the old ladies sleep unsuspecting
in the morning they’ll find big dollops
of something syrupy
where once spring was in bloom
“why’d you take them, little ghost?”
she smiles, gums and all
while in the attic her garden flourishes
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