song for Benfica Lisboa

before the war begins in the light stadium
we throw our vulture
from the right claw he has
the snow of our old men & from the left claw
the red of our women's blood,
all of us clap standing in the light stadium
and after the vulture make a complete tour
the war may begin.

poem for a brand new world

in the aftermath of rains
i can see my blue & white striped shirt
hanging on a olive branch
near to the sister branch
the one that the dove has to take
and bring it to a new man.
so everything it's sure
new world is safe to walk on.

round of events

11:06 - king's soup was too hot,
11:28 - the only daughter of matre soupier - dacapitated,
11:32 - kings only son was not to be found,
11:36 - king son was hanging by the neck in the tool house,
11:46 - king swore never to eat soup again
11:57- the queen & the matre soupier were never to be found.

for her morning elegance

she has such a morning elegance
that melts the mountains
and in her rumpled sheets
snow is playing avalanche
and few man are dying
leaving some grieving families.
she has such a morning elegance
that makes pajamas happy, over feverish
burdened with such responsability,
an elegance that I do not yet have discovered,
but i am working, struggling for that.

just like Pablo I can do a love poem just for you

the day you play with the yellow light of rain
you push the horizon just one line back
to bring joy in my chamber, one olive branch
count down the breathing of the day
you play with the yellow light of rain,
most I love your sunny face like a sunbeam
over the grains, over rusty forest, over blue heart,
my lips over the countryside of your body.