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Poetry

  • SP WT LV

    ,

    He said
    there’s no love in São Paulo,
    only concrete,
    noise,
    and people rushing nowhere.

    But we were there,
    standing
    in the middle of all that gray.

    Laughing
    like the city forgot to warn us.

  • She blamed herself

    For not having studied enough,
    for not being prepared for the pressure and demands of the job market.

    She blamed herself
    for not dedicating more time to her daughter,
    who needed help with school.

    She blamed herself
    for not exercising and
    for not always being full of sexual desire.

    She
    blamed
    herself

    Inspired by Helena Bertho

  • The meat has been overcooked

    , ,

    It gives me chills
    to imagine a global
    and personal revolution
    starting so simply,
    so immediately,
    just by stopping
    the eating of dead animals.

    A tiny gesture
    with a giant impact.

    Fire the barbecue chef
    living inside you —
    the one who insists,
    the one who pretends not to hear.

    Because the meat,
    honestly,
    has been overcooked
    for a long time.

  • ❤️ Tomatinhos

    ,

    In the daily harvest of tomatoes,
    little tomatoes,
    heart-shaped tomatoes.

    Na colheita diária
    de tomate tomatinho
    tomate coraçãozinho

    Little tomatoes that grew in my compost bed. Some in the shape of hearts. ❤️

  • Then I heard other people

    ,

    I built an opinion
    from TV reports
    while sitting on a comfortable couch,
    throwing out clever lines
    triggered by nothing more
    than a raised eyebrow.

    Then I heard other people
    repeating the same rehearsed phrases,
    and it hit me,
    those thoughts weren’t mine.
    It hurt.

    So I went quiet
    and started rebuilding.

    I learned an opinion
    is never finished,
    and touching it
    is always painful,
    especially on mornings
    like this one,
    reading the brutal map
    of incarceration in Brazil    ,
    letting the discomfort
    do its work.