Poetry

  • A Day Without Borders

    the forest had something,
    was it the color
    or the ingredient of love?

    maybe it was the saint
    who can’t handle sugar
    or the smell of cilantro,
    my dear lord.

    one day on borderless land,
    in a gradient of endless colors.

    in the cerrado I lost my clothes
    and danced for the rain,
    tears from the sky,
    tears to the sky.

    I received a rainbow,
    a hug,
    and a few words.

    I pretended to understand
    and eventually did.

    a day without borders,
    in a gradient without barriers.

    asphalt, blocks, wings and plans,
    a district described
    from one tip to the other.

    I understood,
    but please,
    don’t forget:
    order and progress
    with love.

    one day,
    the land of mines is right there,
    one day away
    on this borderless earth,
    beyond that horizon,
    in a gradient of colors
    without boundaries.


    a floresta tinha uma coisa,
    era a cor
    ou o ingrediente do amor?

    seria o santo que não pode com açúcar
    ou o perfume de coentro,
    o meu senhor.

    um dia na terra sem fronteiras,
    num gradiente de cores
    sem barreiras.

    no cerrado perdi as roupas
    e dancei pra chuva,
    lágrimas do céu,
    lágrimas ao céu,

    ganhei um arco-iris,
    um abraço e algumas palavras
    que fingi entender
    e acabei entendendo.

    um dia sem fronteiras,
    num gradiente
    sem barreiras.

    asfalto, quadras, planos e pilotos
    distrito descrito da ponta a asa entendi,
    mas então,
    não se esqueçam por favor
    ordem e progresso
    com amor

    um dia
    a terra das minas está logo ali,
    a um dia de terra sem barreiras
    no final daquele horizonte
    de um gradiente de cores
    sem fronteiras

  • Weight I Didn’t Need

    Minus 4 kilos,
    of meat, of tech,
    protein, carbon, lithium.

    4 kilos less
    in the backpack,
    on my back,
    in my flesh,
    in the pot.

    Menos 4kg,
    de carne, de tech,
    proteína, carbono, lithium

    4kg a menos
    na mochila, costa, carne
    no corpo e na panela

    This was the day I gave up carrying my computer while traveling and realized I was much skinnier than I thought.

  • All kinds of gente

    the transparent ones,
    the solanaceous ones,
    the ones painted with genipapo,

    the grateful,
    the thankful,
    the crystallized.

    everyone,
    in a body of chaos,
    in a state of invagination

    all heading to paradise,
    Alto Paraíso.

    One of the most impressive experiences at the Indigenous Festival in Alto Paraíso (Brazil).

  • Broken Crankshaft

    It was hot,
    crankshaft shot.

    Stopped the neighbor’s Beetle clean,
    traded parts
    for bananas green.

    Tomorrow I ride,
    no looking back,
    is this the Kombi’s
    final track?


    Tava calô,
    a manivela quebrô,

    Paro o fusca do vizinha,
    troco a manivela por um cacho
    de bananinha,

    Amanha vo viajá,
    ultima aventura da kombi
    será?

  • 8:40 pm – Time to howl

    Every night,
    right on schedule,
    the moon would tap the window
    and my dogs would answer.

    Not a bark,
    not a growl,
    a long, shared note
    like they were tuning the universe
    back into place.

    I never set the time,
    but they knew it,
    8:40 sharp,
    the daily ceremony
    of fur and voice
    reminding the world
    that wildness still lives
    in small backyards.