I’ve known you a long time,
Probably the eviternity.
Now I’m as if in a stupid film,
Trying to roll up the infinity.

Your grimace is clear-cut.
Your taunts are plain.
Your eyes are as if pictured.
You’re near, and they’re far-away.

Your hair is at my finger-tips.
It’s rigid and rough as strings.
Touch them by hand and here's the space.
Your hair’s reminds stings.

Your silence is my kaiken -
A short sword and a precise beat.
You despised me by your muteness.
How familiar is your cheat!

Your firmly closed lips
Are like a mask of tragic jesters.
Do you hear trumpets are playing afar?
A strange love is being buried there.

Spacious silence, I inhale her sweetish scent.
She’s so close, here, internal.
The dawn reveals the horizon,
I can't help but breathe her.
Vermilion clouds disperse where
I will meet her again.

Stars twinkle elsewhere,
the darkness recedes and somewhere behind
I hear the last whispers of the night.
These whispers merge with the rhythm of my heart.
I was with her,
I surrendered to her gloom,
it covered my skin, I inhaled it.
Every beat of my heart resonated with her breath.
The stars faded in my eyes
and I slowly sank in her rhythms.

So high.
Pain no longer mattered.
I devote.

The sun will rise quickly,
blue and white fragments of clouds will fly away
to rain down and vanish into infinity.

Silence seeps in the sounds of a new day.
She is still on my mind.
Our moment is eternal.

She is glaring and majestic.
She lures birds,
makes them return again and again,
lie down on her flows and
slowly die forgetting about food.
Her depth is infinite.
Love.

The wind passes her power.
Storms, waves and the earth -
everything is for her.
She gives and takes back.
And only at the edge
I will look in her eyes.

She will appear with a cry of a rain,
shed unrestrained tears,
the wind will be lost in the agony of fire.
Her mad rage is frightening.
But few know her as I do.
Few believe that she is the love,
to which everyone is doomed.

She is riotous,
frenzied and mysterious.
Her gaze freezes the blood.

When the next night comes,
the moon will cover shadow with cold rays,
I will give all my feelings to its obscurity.

I bow down to her.
She totally fascinated me.

A gentle touch,
A faint smile,
she will smudge
the night sky.
She will weave a wreath
of clouds and stars.

She finally crowns me with that beautiful wreath.
Death.

Bloom is in season.
The birds sing for a reason.

The river's motion
Seems to have a notion
For every rock around the bend.

Mushrooms are smiling a tinge.

Not a thing is strange.
Infinity has no range.

Take a token.
The thing left unspoken:
What He thinks of Hymn.

The fields of time melt beneath my feet
And the rain is slightly sweet.

Dew of the divine drops
And gains back again.

Time is a loop of sorts,
Everything ends where it begins again.

Eternity is a moment
And it never ended again.

You know every drop ascends in

The End

Again.

When the gravity of the moment stops
time.
When the probability of the end
falls
straight through the middle and we are centered
firmly
in the present. A Wait so great, there's no
Entropy.
The firmament stilled against its center.
Gravitational
A-Constant against our emergent mass.
Intrinsic vibrational force,
the center and the edge. Entanglement
edge and center, overlap, and collapsed,
                                                       fulminating
the wholeness where the radius tunnels
into and around and expounding the
                 infinity of existence inside of us.

Uma sensação de leveza,
de extensão breve e duradoura.

Um arrepio percorre a nuca,
permeia o corpo,
e transborda em um arrepio.

Por uma melodia ou poesia
que ataca e rebate,
tocando a alma,
comovente
emoção elevadora.

Sensação infinita na infinidade.

Oh, se ao menos sempre tivesse sido,
para permanecer aqui, sempre.

Deleite e bem-aventurança, alegria e prazer,
emoção no olhar lacrimoso do coração,
alegria no sorriso da mente.

Se ao menos pudesse permanecer, sempre...
Prazer.

Do you prefer space, or the deep ocean?
Or the void at end of the world
where the ocean was before
it turned to salt? Or all of the above?

Me, I prefer the all-out sprint to the edge
where the toes abandon the sun-warmed planks,
the infinity of just existing in air, a moment
before the infinity of just existing in cold water.

There is boundless freedom only found
constrained to a minute's unreversed decision.
There is endless wisdom only gained when lost
to the great unknown, unwritten verities.

There is uncanny comfort in this pastel wind
over gray land, in the unconcerned moon,
in the one thing you don't even think about until
you need to find where you dropped your keys.

In reality, "all of the above" is the correct response,
and you can with joy fling yourself into the abyss
of any unfathomed mystery, any new creation
to discover whether you will float, or sink, or swim.

Or we could just spend the day together
at an art museum, leave your jacket and keys there
on the benighted beach, hold hands, and jump
through the wormhole at the center of the galaxy.

Infinity is not a number
nothing lasts forever

With a compass of sheer curiosity, I roam,  
An oxymoron guiding me to unknown realms,  
Chasing the edge of a world that’s never shown,  
Looking for paradise at every place,
Only to find in the void, a blank space.

Each question a spark, a thread to unwind,  
But this thread, it tangles, no answers to find,  
In the labyrinth of thought, I'm lost, confined,  
Curiosity's compass, leading a confused mind.

In the edge of a cliff, I stand up straight.
I see a mirror, staring back at me is my own fate.
Reflecting not my face, but just my shadow,  
The more I chase the light, the more I grow hollow.

In a labyrinth of thoughts, where every twist and bend,  
Feels both familiar and foreign, a journey with no end.
In the tangled vines of confusion, making things worse,
Engulfed in this darkness, being one with the curse.

They see me as mysterious, a figure shrouded in mist,  
But I wander the same paths, where exits don’t exist.  
Chasing a ghost, an echo of who I thought I'd be,  
Yet finding only illusions, hopes that deceive me.

I search for something lost, that perhaps was never there,  
A fleeting dream, a whisper, dissolving in the air.  
Endlessly I walk, seeking what I cannot see,  
A labyrinth of my making, where I’m never found to be.

As I rotate without and within
When I’ve died I’ll be born yet again
I’ve come and I’ve gone
Like the dusk and the dawn
Can a cycle be said to begin?