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.