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My poetry straight from google translator...have a blast!

 
 
Reply Sun 13 Jun, 2021 10:48 am
Atmospheres... (Coimbra Café Capri )

It was liquid and "plasmic" the soul of the morning to be guessed at the city and it ran in it, as if it were late in the hours, a wet wind in the shadows of people that were already emerging to dot the light... it was a dull breeze inside the grammar of painful hours, calm in the late sleep that the memory of the soul had not yet forgotten, but in which the images, already carried, this arithmetical foreshadowing of rhythms and shapes in construction.
The tram of yesteryear still sounded on the empty tracks of the road and the tower of the University rang in the distance, inviting as in the past...I woke up and I went to classes at a cafe next door and had my previous breakfast without books.

Yours sincerely>FILIPE DE ALBUQUERQUE
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Type: Discussion • Score: 2 • Views: 792 • Replies: 4
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maxdancona
 
  1  
Reply Sun 13 Jun, 2021 11:01 am
@Albuquerque,
Can you post the originals, Fil?
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Albuquerque
 
  1  
Reply Sun 13 Jun, 2021 11:06 am
SUSPENSION

I feel, inexpressibly said, the conflict...
It hurts me, a vague silence with bedside lights, on the counter border...
I, circumstance of being, superimposed to me in the air, the moonlight...
A desire that was indefinite, in an imprecise kiss into a lost God.
Breathtaking strength of Being, for and yet to think about...
I ask to silence the silence, and it passes, slowly at the time that appears, on the old window glass...
What a mess in the gloomy stress of being less!

by: FILIPE DE ALBUQUERQUE
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Albuquerque
 
  1  
Reply Sun 13 Jun, 2021 11:22 am
Poem from kicks!

I like the idea of ​​kicking a poem into existence just because I can...
A poem like the one I'm writing here, right now... with my mind seated in the dullness of the evening!
In between these forged kicks I'll give you, Time and Space, one more and there comes another verse in a gust.
Now that I'm done with kicking... It's finished!

FILIPE DE ALBUQUERQUE
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Albuquerque
 
  1  
Reply Sun 13 Jun, 2021 11:50 am
HOUR

HOUR...
ENTRESUBSTANCE DISSONANT FROM LOOSE DIGITS,
POEM OF CLOSED DOORS AND RUNNING SHUTTERS...

HOUR...
DAY SLEEP AND CIGARILLA ON A DARK INSTINCT,
DAWN AND DUSK OF AN ALIGNMENT TO BE UNWRAPPED...
PRE THOUGHT AND PROTO ACTION OF SUBSEQUENT REMEMBRANCES...

HOUR...
DRESS WITHOUT PROM. SUIT WITHOUT CAUSE. TIES OF A FAKE TRIUMPH!
SUITCASE WITHOUT A TICKET, ALWAYS BEYOND AND BEHIND ANY DESTINATION
GLASSING AN IDEA AFTER THE FALLEN RAIN OR BEFORE IT EVER CAME..

Yours sincerely>FILIPE DE ALBUQUERQUE
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