areia

10 Wednesday Jul 2013

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No deserto, sempre que o desejo é, te alucina.
Rijos, ávidos, letradas, solteiras, taradas, pudicas, peludas, careca.
Mas teus desejos são comuns.
Você prefere as filhas, das tias, das mães, das irmãs, as sobrinhas.
Você rasgar um buraco no céu.
Mas isso não é comigo.
Eu amo tudo que ama areia.
Areia que traz inundações e magia.
Areia que está em casa.
Areia que é mal-amada.
Areia que dizem “te amo” e mais nada.
.
In the desert, where the desire is, you hallucinate.
Wiry, eager, educated, single, horny, prudish, hairy, bald.
But your wishes are common.
You prefer daughters, aunts, mothers, sisters, nieces.
You tear a hole in the sky.
But that’s not me.
I love everything that loves sand.
Sand that brings floods and magic.
Sand that is home.
Sand that is unloved.
Sand that says “I love you” and nothing else.

nothing else matters

10 Wednesday Jul 2013

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Minha boca quente sempre a te sugar.
Nada mais importa.
Não minha beijo em teu pescoço.
Delirando. Não seu corpo,
eu tenho que sentir, eu tenho que fazer loucuras.
Uma mordida? Não uma mordida.
Não meus lábios em teu pescoço.
Nada mais importa, mas, minha boca
quente a te sugar. Sempre.
.
My hot mouth to suck you always.
Nothing else matters.
Not my kiss on your neck.
Delirious. Not your body
that I have to feel, I have to do crazy things to.
A bite? Not a bite.
Not my lips on your neck.
Nothing else matters, but my hot mouth
to suck you. Always.

pain. little deaths. drowning.

09 Tuesday Jul 2013

Posted by in Illustration and art, Poetry, Portuguese, Translation

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Porque eu estou morto. Porque
eu afogou e eu morri de dor. Porque
minha língua é tocando no céu da tua boca.
Porque minha dor é o lua lindo. Porque
minha sepultura a é piscina das oceanos longínquas.
Porque ama seu professor por você ensinar
as coisas mais belas das quais não é ensinado na sala de aula.
Digo-lhe isto. Na fragilidade do amor é isto.
Dor. Pequenas mortes. Afogamento.
Venha aqui. Você está curioso,
e eu estou nua e sempre molhado.
.
Because I’m dead. Because
I drowned and died in pain. Because
my tongue is touching the roof of your mouth.
Because my pain is the gorgeous moon. Because
my grave is a pool of distant oceans.
Because you love your teacher for teaching
the most beautiful things that never get taught in the classroom.
I tell you this. The fragility of love is this.
Pain. Little deaths. Drowning.
Come here. You are curious,
and I’m naked and always wet.

pain little deaths drowning 2

pain little deaths drowning 3

Worlds shortest poem

09 Tuesday Jul 2013

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PeopleOfAr's avatarPeopleOfAr

Shortest poem Aram Saroyan

This poem was written by Aram Saroyan, an Armenian-American poet, novelist, biographer, memoirist and playwright. Saroyan’s four-legged “m” has been cited in the Guinness Book of Records as the world’s shortest poem. The meaning of it has been subject to discussion. Some have called it: “a closeup of an alphabet being born” – Bob Grumman. Its sells still in the process of dividing, ‘m’ and the ‘n’, not quit separated. It is also a pun on “I am”, implying the formation of consciousness itself.

Aram Saroyan was also the author of the most controversial poem that simply read: “lighght” in the center of a blank page. This poem was selected by George Plimpton to be featured in The American Literary Anthology and received a $500 cash award from the National Endowment for the Arts, resulting in a huge controversy involving the US government. Read all about the controversy by following the…

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Quote

love is a sad lament i must sing to the clouds

08 Monday Jul 2013

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“Not knowing that I am pillowed among the crags on Kamo Mountain, my wife must still be waiting for my return. ‘Today, today!’ each day I have waited for you and now they say you are strewn with the shells of Ishi River! Love is a sad lament I must sing to the clouds as they pass Ishi River.”

— from Manyoshu’s Collection of Ten thousand Leaves (Japanese Anthology compiled in 759 AD) and the OVA Blue Sub #6 (2000 AD)

minete and a room full of holes

05 Friday Jul 2013

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Doce a palavra. Minete.
Doce o sal na minha língua.
Desperta, meu sangue.
Negue que me amas três vezes antes do amanhecer.
Perdoai-me porque te desejo tanto.
Doce teu mágica.
Transforme teu esporra em vinho.
Como beato, ajoelho-me entre tuas coxas, irmã.
Minete. Desejo ser bebido.
.
Sweet word. Minete.
Sweet salt on my tongue.
Awake, my blood.
Deny that you love me three times before dawn.
Forgive me because I desire so much.
Your sweet magic.
Turn your cum into wine.
How blessed I kneel between your thighs, sister.
Minete. I wish to be drunk.

X3

X1

Note from author:

There aren’t a whole lot of foreign words in the world for cunnilingus (the English didn’t have one for so long that they had to steal the idea from the French). Minete is one of those words. It’s Portuguese and my dictionary defines it thus:

S.f. (calão) Prática de sexo oral que consiste na estimulação do órgão genital feminino, em especial o clitoris, com a língua ou os lábios. O mesmo que cunnilingus. (Do francês «minet») exemplo de: Afastou-lhe as coxas e começou a fazer-lhe lentamente um minete.