God is an Astronaut

The stillness of the earth
waiting to be disrupted
Such a paradox we see everyday,
It's a shame we give it all away.

If there's a god out there,
watching over our heads
this is what he sees:
social failure,
poverty,
a little piece of heaven here and there,
but, as allways,
not for everyone,
just one or 2 percent that are lucky to have money.

It's useless,
in the end money won't buy us trees,
money won't bring back the fresh saltiness of the oceans,
nor the sweet breath of the wind blowing,
rivers will dry, and money will dry with them,
a useless piece of paper that used to buy us hapiness
and no longer does.

If there's the change of existing a God
he's an astronaut these days,
spectating the present
contemplating the future,
almost unable to intervein,
only following the course of the earth with his eyes
as it spins towards the end.

This is what we came to,
God is only a spectator to what we do with our world,
no matter how much we pray
there will come the day
where all of us will regret our reckless disrespect
and say out loud: Guilty as charge.

That day will be too late.

Sonho Americano

Um dia sonhei ir à América,

Sonhei encontrar-me em Times Square,

contemplando as luzes da metrópolis incansável,

a cidade que nunca pára.

Sonhei estar num ferry,

o vento húmido batia-me na cara 

quebrando a vontade de qualquer um,

molhava-me o rosto sonhador

as roupas ensopadas

mas por dentro estou quente e segura

Sem tristeza ou dor.

Nesse sonho cheguei a uma ilha 

e nessa ilha a Liberdade impera

não apenas uma estátua,

senti o seu ideal, a sua mensagem no ar,

uma mensagem intemporal

sentida por aqueles que cá conseguiram chegar

por aqueles que aqui conseguiam voltar depois das trevas da guerra,

senti e bebi as mensagens de tantos outros que já ali estiveram.

Do outro lado uma visão de aço e ferro me esperava,

de uma outra terra onde o Homem reinava.

Prédios que o céu atingem estendem-se pela linha do horizonte,

contemplo-os de longe e sinto-me pequena ao lado de tamanha grandeza.

Sonhei que atravessava Wall Street, 

numa época diferente, época de recessão,

em que o desespero mandava nas vidas que ali passavam,

no entanto vi também uma enorme riqueza e poder

que preenchiam as ruas, os prédios, as lojas.

Na Broadway sonhei ser artista,

não de cinema, mas uma das muitas personalidades 

que nessa rua escrevem o seu nome nas estrelas

imortalizando o sonho americano de tantas outras.

Caminhei no meio de gigantes,

Numa multidão de rostos anónimos, rostos com histórias diferentes,

tão diferentes da minha, no entanto cruzam-se por momentos,

nas ruas paralelas desta cidade

são estas pequenas coisas que a tornam especial e única:

NY city, city of  many faces,

city of hopes and dreams,

the city of light.

Sonhei ir à América

e o sonho tornou-se na realidade,

para trás ficou o novo mundo,

agora resta a saudade.

The (un)simple minds

We run around circles, vicious circles
they keep us trapped inside their loop
no easy escape, no one to help
we shout SOS messages,
but people seem to talk in Morse code
and we don't,
Our language is those of the fools,
The ones who tried to live in balance
and ended up with no equilibrium,
out of the ordinary, but not extraordinary.

The world runs around us
and we seem to be looking at it from the inside circle I'm in
sleepless, restless, uncounciousness of the things going on,
Left apart by anyone, but forgotten by all,
just another brick in the road for many
but still feeling like a fountain in the desert.
What a stupid, sick, sad little song,
the song of the minds that no one could understand
(someday, it will become an sonet, years from now maybe an ode,
or nothing at all, just another lyric forgotten in the sands of time)

From where we see it,
Being incomprehensible is both a virtue and a curse,
We are in a constant struggle to understand how the simplest thing can work,
How our minds intraconnect to make us such ridiculously complicated humans,
But we are forever doomed to fail at that mission,
forever condemned not to know what we are,
Who we are and why do we do such things,
But if never knowing what's inside of Pandoras box
means to experience the world in this unic way,
then we make the choice never to open it,
and stay like we are,
enjoying the little pleasures,
rejoicing with the small events,
living things with the emotion of a thousand hearts.

What a idiot paradox when hapiness comes a lot easier and simply when your mind is so complicated,
but so does sadness.

(I)mundo [I]

Fecho-me dentro de mim mesma
sou guardiã dos meus próprios portões,
sou eu quem decide quem entra e saí.
Neste meu mundo que poucos conhecem
e os que conhecem não sabem no fundo como é viver assim,
num turbilhão de emoção, acontecimentos,
num construir incessante de momentos.
Esses (momentos) procuro-os,
como um caçador atrás da presa,
agarro-os com as minhas mãos nuas
devoro-os à medida que passam.
Bebo sabedoria dos erros que faço,
das vivências que passo,
das pessoas que conheço e que tanto me dizem
às vezes sem precisar de dizer nada.

Vivo assim, sozinha,
mas a solidão é minha companheira neste caminho
com a qual já não me importo de o partilhar,
(embora tivesse lutado contra esta tanto tempo)
sei agora que é necessária
e sinto-me bem na sua companhia
pois percebi que estar sozinha
não é o mesmo que ser esquecida
embora sejam um tanto ou quanto semelhantes.

Abre-se a porta e entra quem eu deixo passar,
às vezes não é fácil,
uma coisa é falar,
outra é conseguir entrar neste mundo
em que só eu passeio nos fins de tarde,
como uma criança à beira mar
que absorve tudo à sua volta.

E sair?
A porta é a serventia da casa,
está aberta a quem quiser sair,
não obrigo ninguém a estar aqui,
mas posso obrigar alguém a ir embora
este é o meu território
e quem não está bem agora
ou se habitua
ou nunca o fará.

Se parece complicado?
Pois, de facto é,
mas não teria a mesma graça se assim não fosse.
É um desafio para quem tenta romper as minhas defesas pela 1º vez
mas uma vez feito
não à volta a dar
para sempre aqui vai ficar
vai ser mais uma daquelas pessoas
como as outras que já me tentaram e tentam ensinar
no entanto única
como um grão de areia azul no meio do mar.

Life is...well..Life!

I'm not sure of what's life
It can be so many things
that I'm confused

Life can be the sun that arises in the morning
and illuminates the city
Life is the brow leaf
that falls from the tree!

Life is simple,
like the leaves
yet desperately complicated:
Too many questions without answer
Too many answers without asking questions,
and none of which true,
No one answers you!

All in all,
Life is for the living
Life is...Action!
Life is living the life you have,
with the things you are given,
and never the opposite sentence!

Life can be many things but,
the essential part is
to cry,
to smile,
to love,
to learn,
to live it
and try to think less about it!

The mirror

There's a house on the street

where a girl lives

In the house there's a mirror,

and the mirror's broken.

She stares at the mirror every day, all day

But the craks in it never go away

They tell her "get it fixed"

They tell her "why don't you do something?"

And her only answer is "I don't know..."

She stands in the hall,

the hall where the mirror is

She stands and let's live pass her by

People come and go

But she never says hi,

she just stares at her in the mirror,

a desfigured picture of herself,

and let's time go by her.

In the mirror she sees what she is

and imagines what she really wanted to be

what she thought she would be, someday,

but live took that away...

She imagined herself with someone on that mirror

but that went away too ...

So she started to think "What am I gonna do?

Who is going to want me now?

Who am I going to be?

Who's going to love me?"

I don't know was the answer to the questions,

she thought, and convinced herself of that,

not making a single move,

standing there, by the hall, in front of the broken mirror.

The truth is, she needed to repair that mirror

repair her way to see things and to see herself

but she couldn't do it alone,

she still can't,

and so she's waiting for someone to come along

replace that mirror with a new one

and give her a new vision of herself

a side even she didn't knew,

because sometimes, repairing isn't good enough,

and what she needed was not the same mirror,

but an improved perspective of her own life.

Little less , little more

I can never understand everything

everything is un-understandable

maybe I'm reading in between the lines, 

maybe I'm not,

can this be me overreacting

or is this me seeing clearly?

Am I not seeing the signs?

Am I not guessing the meaning of the words?

I wished things were less enigmatic

I wish this was a little more pragmatic,

objective

concrete,

I wish I could just go and tell you

"I love you"

I wish you'd say the same,

or at least feel.

Almost one month

and I still can't take it,

the stupid song on the radio makes me sad

because tought of moving on 

not knowing that is finished or not

makes me stand still in time

not moving a muscle of my heart towards a new chapter.

This is not healthy,

but I can't do anything

I'm to scared,

tight grabed in that anchor

that hope that things might be the same again

and still that might not be true

I don't know, and I wished I did

how will things be between me and you.