Rafael quer poesia
queria
Rafael quer mulher
filofagia
Rafael ia
revel
para onde, Rafael?
fobia
mania
vagabunda teimosia
sentia!
agora, qual travessia?
será que seria?
a ver...

some days I go about
as if everything is holy
holy is the wind
holy is the smile on the cashier's face
holy is
holy
other days I go about
and think
god, who?
who is this god, and why do I think with such reverence
upon a being that does not exist
this is not holy, this is ****
such is the life
of an athiest
who had a conversion
she did not
want.

The lead jackets they put
on you
when you get an x-ray

The lead jackets
I love them

They cradle you
Hold you
Wrap around you
Hold you together
Keep all the pieces in

As though if
you exploded
the lead jacket would just
hold
you back together

Thursday morning
The autumnal breeze approaches the trees
A saddening chill comes over the house, right into the bone.
Look there, listen here, where to go, what to do?
Domestic clutter draws me from pillar to post at home.
Dreams of perfection, striving for more –
Don’t worry. It’s good enough.
Caught by the delight of the garden birds
Coloured by flowers, and the glimmer of the sun.
Relax, take a break. Walk, don’t run.

August was a turtleneck that didn't fit.
Arrested at the crown of the head,
overheated gasp.

Don't you think- she thought,
I see the irony in everything I do?

Pressing ruthlessly against the yield of flesh,
probing against the pale underbelly, measuring
the distance between skin and bone.
is it better now? Is it better?

Imperceptible white ribbons at
the curve of the thigh, a bow tie atop
the gift of a new healthy body
swollen against the wrap.

I hate... I hate myself. Feels all wrong-

She eats her dinner and
the food digests in her brain.

Healthy, now? Is this-

Healing?

a large tree I've hacked limbs from
is staring back at me
through a window
from those wounds
they look like
eyes
and weeping wounded mouth

Metaphor is not a bridge over the abyss between madness & the sublime;
It is only a signpost pointing to it.

If there is an end to the abyss it is merely your finiteness.

drunkards on their knees –

after the rain, imitating

the Milky Way

I should realy give you a candy,
For every time our eyes meet.
I smile and you eat.
I should also read for you stories and look at you when you speak...
You come to me crying because someone told you
You dont fit
Ever so sensible your big brown eyes got wet so fast
But I told you've done good at your test.
So  I hugg you and kiss your round cute face
It s okay sweety ...Now its time, say Shema and lets go,
And you of course tell me NO
Then you stop,and you listen and you go to bed.
Sweet dreams Reful I love you Good night.
Click bang ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Good night.

I am writing these poems
From inside a lion,
And it's rather dark in here.
So please excuse the handwriting
Which may not be too clear.
But this afternoon by the lion's cage
I'm afraid I got too near.
And I'm writing these lines
From inside a lion,
And it's rather dark in here.