#he called me pequena and i wanted to cry

[daisyjoners]

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 + mathias&cecilia

@moonchlvd

ask meme: put ‘shiplist’ in my ask and i will post 1-3 songs that remind me of our muses/ship  

mine (taylor swift): essa música combina perfeitamente com eles e eu tenho provas, eu tenho evidências e eu tenho JUSTIFICATIVAS que serão apresentadas com os trechos a seguir dessa belezura: “i was a flight risk, with a fear of falling, wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts” (cecilia) E “do you remember, we were sitting there, by the water? you put your arm around me for the first time ; you made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter, you are the best thing that's ever been mine” E “flash forward, and we're taking on the world together and there's a drawer of my things at your place you learn my secrets and you figure out why i’m guarded you say we'll never make my parents' mistakes” (foco na última parte!!!!!!!!! pros dois!!!!!!!!) E “braced myself for the goodbye ‘cause that's all i’ve ever known, then, you took me by surprise: you said, "i'll never leave you alone”.

jump then fall (taylor swift): mais uma da taylor sim porque a censura se aplicava aos plots com músicas prontas e temáticas e estabelecidas anteriormente!!!!!!!! e aqui quem tá fazendo as regras sou eu, se reclamar não faço mais -qq. “we're on the phone and without a warning i realize your laugh is the best sound i have ever heard ; i like the way i can't keep my focus, i watch you talk, you didn't notice i hear the words but all i can think is we should be together” E “baby, i'm never gonna leave you, say that you wanna be with me too” E “well, i like the way your hair falls in your face, you got the keys to me” E “when people say things that bring you to your knees, i’ll catch you ; the time is gonna come when you're so mad you could cry, but i'll hold you through the night until you smile”.

the joker and the queen (ed sheeran feat. taylor swift): não vou me estender tanto nessa porque é uma parte pequena mas eu achei TÃO a cara da cecilia e do mathias que não pude deixar de colocar cara... “how was i to know? it's a crazy thing, i showed you my hand and you still let me win, and who was i to say that this was meant to be? the road that was broken brought us together” E “i've been played before, if you hadn't guessed ; so i kept my cards close to my foolproof vest but you called my bluff and saw through all my tells, and then you went all in and we left together”.

lover (taylor swift): cara... eu não poderia deixar de colocar... me deixa... não vem de briga comigo porque eu amo essa música mais do que TUDO TUDO TUDO e eles são os últimos românticos do mundo e merecem ter ela na playlist. “this is our place, we make the call, and I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you ; i’ve loved you three summers now, honey, but i want 'em all” E “my heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue, all's well that ends well to end up with you, swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover ” (**)

**quotando um recanto da internet sobre o trecho ali: “and that's a reference to past relationships, where she didn't feel that she was treated right; and his heart was blue too; which means that he was sad about things in the past, probably about relationships as well.” e isso combina perfeitamente com eles simplesmente porque quando se conheceram o mathias infelizmente ‘tava com o coração ainda ocupado pela coisuda lá que deu um chifre nele e a cecilia estava #triste porque só se ferrava na vida amorosa dela em geral. 

your song (elton john): terminando aqui a temática de #hojeestamosparaoamor porque nem só de momentos caóticos vive nosso universinho (embora praticamente sim), era importantíssimo conseguir por essa música pra alguém!!!!!!! e no casal dos dois últimos românticos do mundo não é uma má ideia, porque combina SIM. “it's a little bit funny, this feeling inside, i'm not one of those who can easily hide" E “i know it's not much, but it's the best i can do, my gift is my song, and this one's for you [...] “i hope you don't mind, i hope you don't mind that i put down in the words how wonderful life is while you're in the world” E “anyway, the thing is, what i really mean: yours are the sweetest eyes i’ve ever seen”.

menções honrosas (no thoughts just vibes): daylight (taylor swift), can’t help falling in love (kina grannis’s version). i don’t want to miss a thing (aerosmith).

#in character: answers. #character: cecilia mulligan. #partner: andy. #os últimos românticos do mundo aqui #⧽ ⠀ ⠀ ── ⠀ ⠀ but it's golden like daylight ⠀ ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ cecilia & mathias.

[ladymenhera]

I thought

We were through.

But he came back into this abounded house and started kicking all the doors open again, looking for the ghost he left behind.

#sad #bpd #poetry #poem #forgotten #keep me safe #unrequited feelings #unrequited love #you can't unburn bridges #i missed him much #he called me pequena and i wanted to cry

[angellazull]

Segredo Revelado

Parte 1 🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷

Os quatro jovens voltaram para o castelo, o pátio estava quase que totalmente vazio. Ângelo se sentou próximo a fonte, Penny se sentou de um lado, enquanto Ollie e Talbott se separam diante deles.

– Eu acho que está na hora de contar o porquê eu tenho vergonha do meu lado veela.

Ângelo respirou fundo para tomar coragem.

– Quando era criança, morávamos em Whitfield em Dover, mas tivemos que nos mudar, então fomos morar em Royal-Garden, uma pequena vila no litoral sul, a maioria dos moradores de Royal-Garden são famílias mágicas, mas também tem vários trouxas.

"Quando cheguei, estava animado com a nossa nova casa, nós primeiros cinco dias foi tudo bem, até eu conhecer Sebastian Anguslow. Ele é filho de pai trouxa e mãe bruxa, o garoto mais popular de Royal-Garden, ele nunca tinha visto nenhuma veela, como sabem, as veelas tem um certo charme capaz de enfeitiçar os homens, com os meninos da vila não era diferente, quando cheguei, todos queriam ficar perto de mim e não estavam mais dando bola para ele, isso o deixou com raiva, já que ele gostava de ser o centro das atenções. Um dia depois de ter chovido muito, estava andando pela praça central... ele chegou por trás de mim e me empurrou em uma poça de lama, ele me disse que Royal-Garden não era o lugar de criaturas estranhas como eu, que mestiços não humanos como eu não eram bem vindos, ele estava se exibindo para os outros garotos que riam de mim...

Ângelo parou de falar a imagem de Sebastian Anguslow e os outros garotos rindo dele voltaram a sua mente como uma onda.

– Voltei correndo para casa, estava todo sujo de lama, não consegui parar de chorar, contei para a minha mãe o que tinha acontecido, mamãe tentou falar com a Sra. Anguslow, mas ela era tão arrogante quanto o filho, ela disse a mesma coisa que ele, que Royal-Garden era um lugar de pessoas descentes e não para uma criatura que seduz os homens...

Ângelo olhou para Ollie que o ouvia com atenção.

– Mas as vezes não é intencional, simplesmente acontece, não é fácil manter o controle o tempo todo, principalmente quando criança, então acontecia dos meninos ficarem hipnotizados, a partir desse dia, não pude mais sair de casa sem ele me chamar de mestiço idiota, de criatura selvagem, de estranho, não humano. Então passei a ficar mais tempo dentro de casa lendo e aprendendo mais sobre magia, isso desenvolveu um pouco minha curiosidade e aprendizagem, acho que por isso o Chapéu Seletor me colocou na Corvinal. – Angelo se esforçou para abrir um pequeno sorriso, mas era evidente que essas lembranças o assustava. – Não tive mais contato com nenhuma criança de Royal-Garden, depois disse não me senti mais a vontade com meu lado veela, assim que entrei para Hogwarts aprendi o feitiço para mudar a cor sozinho, e o usei no meu cabelo, no início era para ser preto, mas acabei deixando ele azul sem querer, eu ia mudar, até que você disse no nosso primeiro ano que tinha gostado.

Angelo olhou para Penny com um sorriso.

– Então eu decidi deixar ele assim.

– Eu sinto muito Angelo. – Disse Penny segurando sua mão. – Deve ter sido difícil pra você não poder falar com ninguém.

– Está tudo bem agora, Ollie tem razão, eles não são meus amigos, vocês são, e estou feliz por ter conhecido você Ollie, se não fosse por você, eu... não saberia que meus verdadeiros amigos não se importam com eu ser meio veela. Obrigado mesmo.

Angel voltou a olhar para Ollie com um sorriso largo e sincero, era a primeira vez que sentia que podia confiar esse seu segredo a outras pessoas sem medo delas o tratarem mal ou rirem dele.

– O que aconteceu com esse Anguslow? – Perguntou Ollie.

– Ele também foi aceito em Hogwarts, foi aceito na Grifinória, mas evito ao máximo não me encontrar com ele, quanto maior a distância entre nós, melhor é.

-------O--------O--------O---------O--------

Secret Revealed

Part 1 🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧

The four returned to the castle, the courtyard almost completely empty. Angelo sat next to the fountain, Penny sat on one side, while Ollie and Talbott parted before them.

"I think it's time to tell you why I'm ashamed of my veela."

Angelo took a deep breath for courage.

“As a child, we lived in Whitfield in Dover, but we had to move, so we moved to Royal Garden, a small village on the south coast, most of the residents of the Royal Garden are magical families, but there are also several Muggles.

"When I arrived, I was excited about our new home, the first five days were fine, until I met Sebastian Anguslow. He is the son of a muggle father and a witch mother, the most popular boy in Royal-Garden, he had never seen any veela, as you know, the veela has a certain charm capable of bewitching men, with the boys of the village was no different, when I arrived, everyone wanted to be near me and were no longer giving him a ball, it made him angry, since he liked to be in the spotlight. One day after it had been raining a lot, he was walking down the central square ... he came up behind me and pushed me into a mud puddle, he told me that Royal-Garden didn't it was the place of strange creatures like me, that nonhuman half-bloods like me were not welcome, he was showing off to the other boys who laughed at me ..."

Angelo stopped talking about the image of Sebastian Anguslow and the other boys laughing at him came back to his mind like a wave.

"I ran home, was all muddy, couldn't stop crying, told my mom what had happened, mom tried to talk to Mrs. Anguslow, but she was as arrogant as her son, she said the same he thing, that Royal-Garden was a place of decent people and not for a creature that seduces men..."

Angelo looked at Ollie who was listening closely.

"But sometimes it's unintentional, it just happens, it's not easy to keep control all the time, especially as a child, so it happened that the boys got mesmerized, from that day I couldn't leave the house without him calling me a stupid half-breed, wild creature, strange, not-human. So I spent more time indoors reading and learning more about magic, it developed my curiosity and learning a little, so I think the Sorting Hat put me in Ravenclaw." Angelo struggled to smile a little, but it was evident that those memories scared him. “I had no contact with any Royal-Garden children anymore, then I said I was no longer comfortable with my veela side, so when I joined Hogwarts I learned the spell to change color alone, and I used it on my hair, at first it was to be black, but I inadvertently turned it blue, I was going to change, until you said our first year that you liked it."

Angelo looked at Penny with a smile.

"So I decided to leave him like that."

"I'm so sorry Angelo." Penny said holding her hand. "It must have been hard for you not to be able to talk to anyone."

"It's all right now, Ollie's right, they're not my friends, you are my friends, and I'm glad I met you Ollie, if it weren't for you, I ... wouldn't know my true friends don't care about me being half veela. Thanks."

Angel looked back at Ollie with a wide, sincere smile, the first time he felt he could trust this secret of his own to others without fear of being treated or laughed at.

"What happened to this Anguslow?” Ollie asked.

""He was also accepted at Hogwarts, he was accepted at Gryffindor, but I avoid not meeting him, the further away we are, the better."

-------O--------O--------O---------O--------

🇧🇷 - Espero que gostem dessa nova história que estou planejando, Segredo Revelado, pelo título vocês já devem ter uma ideia do que vai se tratar tudo isso.

Com a participação de Ollie Potter de @ryollie.

🇬🇧 – I hope you enjoy this new story I'm planning, Secret Revealed, by the title you should already have an idea what this is all about.

Featuring Ollie Potter from @ryollie.

#hogwarts mystery #angelo lancaster #ollie potter #Segredo Revelado #Sebastian Anguslow

[okimargarvez]

GUARDIAN ANGEL

Original title: Guardian angel.

Prompt: Luke’s spirit POV, unconditional love, paternity.

Warnings: Character Death.

Genre: romantic, family, supernatural, friendship.

Characters: Luke Alvez, (Penelope Garcia, Spencer Reid, O.C.).

Pairing: Garvez, Penelope x Spencer.

Note: oneshot 5 in Garvez collection; sequel of Empty.

Legend: 💑❗👨‍👩‍👧‍👦💍🎈⚰.

Song mentioned: Lacrime di pioggia, Antonello Venditti.

MY OTHER GARVEZ STORIES

GUARDIAN ANGEL  

With Spencer Reid, right with him! Up here I should not be able to feel jealousy, but perhaps things are more complicated than I could have explained in fifteen years of Catholic school. He had become my best friend. Probably because together with Penelope he was the most fragile person of the BAU. I felt obliged to protect them, both. And then I fell in love with one.

I remember perfectly the day of our wedding. How beautiful she was with that white dress. Until the priest had declared "You may kiss the bride" I hadn't relaxed, as had happened when I had graduated. And he was there, next to me. He was my witness.

It's strange to see Penelope again dressed like that, although this time she didn't wear anything white but a colorful dress. It's strange to see her fall in love with another man, see the way she looks at him, the delicacy she uses towards him. And vice versa, the care of every gesture of him. They're two wounded souls.

I'm jealous but I'll never stop thanking him for saving you, my love. I was next to you when they told you that I had been killed. There wouldn't have been another place where I should have been. I saw you absorb the blow, waver and then fall into the darkness. I saw you squeeze your stomach apologizing, make it up to a creature that could never see the sun. I saw you cry all the tears until you exhausted the reserve and then suddenly stop, change expression, change your traits, lose weight. I saw you wishing to join to me to build that family in heaven that we couldn't have been on earth. I saw you coveting death without almost remembering why.

And yet I watched you turn off slowly, stop smiling, go on automatically. Become a robot, an automaton, a machine without life; a cog of a mechanism that went on on its own.

I heard you ask the Lord the reason for so much pain, but not just yours, everything you had been forced to see since you were born. I heard you ask Him if all this really had a deeper meaning, that we poor homunculi aren't able to interpenetrate. My ways aren't your ways. My thoughts aren't your thoughts, they have taught us this way. But really believing it, blindly, is much more difficult. It's almost necessary to cancel oneself in the Whole.

And then I listened to your prayers, your words, your fears and I tried to console you, to caress you through a sudden breeze of wind that opened the window, scaring you. I became the water that came out of the tap you used to erase the traces of tears from your face. And I hugged you, all night long, until you fell asleep. I tried to talk to you through dreams, but I'm not allowed to reveal everything I'd like. Life would have no meaning without death, a bitter but necessary truth.

I watched you struggle with yourself, uncertain whether to drop or get up. Receiving Spencer's visits, trying to drive him away and eventually giving in to the embrace that was needed for both. I tried to enter his body to feel the sensation of your skin on my hands, but it was not granted to me. I envied him and loved him at the same time.

After the passing I spent several days (although the temporal units here are useless) to question me if what was between my wife and my best friend had more distant roots. If I had been stupid, when I was alive, too naive to realize it. But I never thought that you both had betrayed me, neither for a moment. Perhaps my mistake was to consider him harmless. But I'm not convinced it's a mistake.

He was there before I died for you. After Diana goes away, he had begun to come more and more often to our house and conduct the investigation from there. He no longer took the jet, almost the fear of his mother had been transmitted to him at the time of the passing. He was close to you when you needed it. If I think back to the time I wasted, the lost opportunities ... I would feel incredible rage, if I wasn't here, but here the feeling can't even germinate, it fades. I should have hugged you more often, pampered you, told you what I felt right away. It's useless to end up prey of regrets.

From my limbo I have scrutinized you, it was strange to observe things from an external point of view for once, to see love bloom, a fragile flower with an even finer stem.

I was there the day when Lucia came into the world. I held your hand during the caesarean section. I supervised because the doctors couldn't make mistakes. I wanted you close to me, but not at this price. It's because of feelings like this egoism that I'm still stuck here. But I feel that the moment to go is approaching.

I'm sure my mom appreciated the choice of the name. And that for things like this you'll not even spend a second dangling between earth and sky. You have always been the exact contrary of selfishness, going to the opposite extreme. So many times, you've canceled yourself for others and you're doing it with our daughter too.

I watched you show her the way, give her the right means to face it, without forcing her to make any decision. Because a teacher is someone who tells you where to look, but not what, said Akexandra Trefor. And you've always supported it. I saw you correcting the tasks with her and I caught the signs that a new passion was born. I was with Spencer while he was choosing which pastels and felt-tip pens given her. And I'll accompany her to the exam of maturity, I'll give her the right push the day of the discussion of the degree, I'll be close to her when she'll present her first show and then ... These are all things that have yet to happen. She'll make you proud, our little Lucia. You'll have the confirmation that she was the most beautiful gift that the same Lord who took me from you, could give you.

And that nothing happens by chance, as you have always maintained.

But they haven't been and will not only be happy days. There will also be many moments of difficulty in which you'll almost come to regret having made love with me that evening. Almost. Like when you'll accidentally throw one of her favorite designs and even you'll look for it in the trash you'll not find it. She'll cry out to you that she hates you, even if she doesn't really think so. And I'll be next to her, because you'll find comfort in Spencer.

My little Lucia, so lucky to know soon enough that you have two fathers. Your mother and your stepfather have given you the opportunity to develop an affection for someone you've never known officially. They can't know that the imaginary friend you played with was me. I'll listen when you'll cry after banging the door, shed nervous tears because you know you're wrong and you'll regret the very instant when those two little words will come out of your mouth. And I'll caress you and whisper in your ear that All the love you have for me, give it back to your mother's heart. Remember or notice all the sacrifices and renunciations she has made for you. Despite the smiles you're used to see, you which having grown up surrounded by that warm atmosphere, remember that she has never been one of those people capable of loving themselves, but only others. She was a mother before she became it physiologically.

You have so many fathers and mothers, Lucia, someone close and someone up there. You'll never be alone. Don't ever feel lonely, my baby. You have two parents who love you, a little brother who can't wait to meet you and a series of uncles and uncles who have always loved you. You'll have fun shopping with aunts Emily and JJ, while mom and Spencer enjoy a weekend on their own. It'll be too easy to be spoiled by grandpa Rossi and you'll take the first serious crush on his nephew. You'll discover the sudden suffering and joy that catch those who fall in love. But first you'll play and beat Hank and Jack at football, you'll learn to play chess and magic, you'll train with Michael and Henry. One day, soon, Mom and Spencer will take you to visit a tomb and tell you the story of a man who was their leader and who together with your grandfather Dave founded the unit where I worked, so he helped create you, offered the right coordinates.

And then I'll whisper other words, to you little one and to you, corazon, my loves. Things that are valid for both. In her thoughts I'll live, with her hands I'll caress you. But now I feel something, a force that pushes me away. I have yet to say something...

Hold you each other tight when you're scared, that there's my love that doesn't abandon you. But now I can no longer oppose.

One last look, another look ...

-You're now husband and wife ... -.

I watch he kisses you and there is no more envy inside me.

-How will we call him?- he takes your hand. He poses his on your belly.

-You already know. He's a male.- he sighs. -You knew all long it .- he smiles and turns off the light, bringing the room in the dark.

-Lucia and Lucas.- he weighing the names on the language. It's the last thing I hear. The sweet sound of Penelope laughing.

I have heard all your doubts, pequena and neither in the place where I'm going there is the answer you're looking for. Is there only one true love? And what is what coming afterward? So, you have to suffer and be alone even if you lose your beloved at fifteen? And how can the theory of soul mates be reconciled with that of reincarnation?

I have witnessed many discussions between you and Reid like this. Not even Spencer's superior intelligence can suffice.

But stop, it's no longer the time to think. I'll always watch over you, even from here, immersed in absolute light.

Don't be afraid.

There is no emptiness. There is room for everyone and I wait for you without haste. Where fullness reigns.

  Tags: @martinab26 @janiedreams88 @talesoffairies @yessenia993 @arses21434 @teyamarra  @c00lhandsluke @gcchic  @rkt3357 @orangesickle @entireoranges @jamirn@kathy5654 @lovesgoodluna @thisonekid@thenibblets@ambrosiaswhispers @perfectly-penelope @courtneyxoxo1 @jahreau @gracieeelizabeth27  @silviajajaja @ichooseno  megs2219 @ smalliemichelle99 @skisun @chewwy123 @maziikeen92 @ gracieeelizabeth27  @ thinitta   @franklintrixie  @jenf42 Tell me if you want to be removed ^_^

#garvez #penelope garcia #luke alvez #spencer reid #penelope garcia x luke alvez #luke alvez x penelope garcia #luke x penelope #penelope x luke #garcia x alvez #alvez x garcia #spencer reid x penelope garcia #penelope x spencer #spencer x penelope #garcia x reid #reid x garcia #cm #criminal minds #antonello venditti #lacrime di pioggia

[guarita]

Peter Orlovsky (1933 -2010)

Peter Orlovsky, também conhecido como o boy do Ginsberg, foi um poeta e ator.

Cresceu na pobreza, tendo que, bem jovem, largar o colégio para ajudar sua família a se manter.

Conheceu Ginsberg quando estava servido de modelo para o pintor Robert La Vigne, em dezembro de 1954. Até esse momento de sua vida, não havia pensado ainda em se tornar poeta, mas com o incentivo de Ginsberg, Peter começou a escrever em 1957 enquanto viajava por Paris junto ao próprio Allen.

Viajou com diversos beats por todo o mundo - Oriente Médio, África, India, Europa. E manteve um relacionamento aberto com Ginsberg até sua morte, em 1997.

Publicou 3 livros solo - Dear Allen, Ship will land Jan 23, 58 (1971); Lepers Cry (1972) e Clean Asshole Poems & Smiling Vegetable Songs (1978) (reprinted 1992) - e um em conjunto com Allen Ginsberg: Straight Hearts' Delight: Love Poems and Selected Letters (with Allen Ginsberg) (1980). Também participou de diversas antologias e revistas, além de aparecer em alguns filmes, como Couch (1965), do Andy Warhol.

Notei que sua obra, apesar de pouca, é totalmente ofuscada pela figura-mor do Ginsberg. Seus poemas são bastante escassos também pela internet, foi uma pequena odisséia conseguir essa seleção de poemas:

§

NOTA BIOGRÁFICA

“Minha biografia é: nasci em julho de 1933. Cresci com pés sujos & risos. Não podia suportar a poeira então tirei meu nariz. Problemas na escola: sempre pensando sonhando tristes problemas mistérosos. Sai da escola no meio do último trimestre & me perdi trabalhando na enfermaria escorregadia d’um Hospital Psiquiátrico de idosos. Amo pretzles & não lembro mais dos sonhos. Alguém por favor me compre uma montanha com uma caverna no topo. Eu não faro mais. Queria ser fazendeiro fui pro ensino médio por isso & trabalhei duro, duro, te conto, trabalhei muito, você ficaria espantado. Fiz levantamento de peso com paradas de ônibus. Tenho que aproveitar bacon queimado com ajuda das mãe. Fito meus pés muitão & preciso me disfazer das pranóicas nuvens repintinas. Curto esfregar assoalhos, limpando vomito de gato. Curto nandar m‘baixo d’água. Quero a lua por diversão. Comecei a curtir o estado em branco da mente, especialmente no banho. Nesse verão comecei a curtir moscas fazendo coscas no meu nariz & no rosto. Exijo que mijo seja vendido no mercado, isso ajudaria as pessoas a conhecerem umas azoutras. Q.I 90 na escola, agora Q.I especializado é milhares.”

Peter Orlovsky No livro: The New American Poetry 1945 - 1960

§

PIRMEIRO POEMA

Um arco-íris vem desaguando na minha janela, estou eletrizado. Canções estouram do meu peito, todos os meus choros param, mestério preenche o ar. Olho para os meus sopatos debaixo da cama. Uma colorida mulher gorda se torna minha mãe. Não tenho nenhum dente falso ainda. De repente dez crianças sentam no meu colo. Minha barba cresce em um dia. Bebo uma garrafa oda de vinho de olhos fechados. Desenho no papel e sinto com se tivesse dois anos de novo. Quero que todo mundo fale comigo. Esvazio o lixo na meza. Convido milhares de garrafas para meu quarto, chamo eles depercevejos de Junho. Uso minha máquina de escrever como travesseiro. Uma colher se torna um garfo diante dos meus olhos. Vagabundos me dão todo o seu dinheiro. Tudo que preciso é de um espelho para o resto da minha vida. Meus premeiros cincos de vida vivi num galinheiro sem bacon o suficiente. Minha mãe me mostrava seu rosto de bruxa à noite e contava histórias de barbas azuis. Meus sonhos me levantaram da cama. Sonhei que pulava na boca de uma arma para lutar com uma bala. Conheci Kafka e ele pulou sobre um prédio para ficar longe de mim. Meu corpo se transformou em açúcar, derramado no chá encontrei o significado da vida Tudo que eu precisava era de tinta para ser um menino negro. Ando pela rua à procura de olhos que acariciem meu rosto. Cantei em elevadores acreditando que estava indo pro paraíso. Saí no 86ºandar e andei pelo corredor procurando por bundas frescas. Meus gozos se transformaram em um dólar de prata na cama. Olho pela janela e não vejo ninguém, desço para a rua, olho pra janela e não vejo ninguém. Então eu falei com o hidrante, perguntando “Você tem lágrimas maiores do que as minhas?” Ninguém por perto, mijo em qualquer lugar. Minha trombeta de Gabriel, minha trombeta de Gabriel: revelam-se os ânimos, meu júbilo fresco.

24 Nov 1957, Paris

FRIST POEM

A rainbow comes pouring into my window, I am electrified. Songs burst from my breast, all my crying stops, mistory fills    the air. I look for my shues under my bed. A fat colored woman becomes my mother. I have no false teeth yet. Suddenly ten children sit on my lap. I grow a beard in one day. I drink a hole bottle of wine with my eyes shut. I draw on paper and I feel I am two again. I want everybody to    talk to me. I empty the garbage on the tabol. I invite thousands of bottles into my room, June bugs I call them. I use the typewritter as my pillow. A spoon becomes a fork before my eyes. Bums give all their money to me. All I need is a mirror for the rest of my life. My frist five years I lived in chicken coups with not enough    bacon. My mother showed her witch face in the night and told stories of    blue beards. My dreams lifted me right out of my bed. I dreamt I jumped into the nozzle of a gun to fight it out with a    bullet. I met Kafka and he jumped over a building to get away from me. My body turned into sugar, poured into tea I found the meaning    of life All I needed was ink to be a black boy. I walk on the street looking for eyes that will caress my face. I sang in the elevators believing I was going to heaven. I got off at the 86th floor, walked down the corridor looking for    fresh butts. My comes turns into a silver dollar on the bed. I look out the window and see nobody, I go down to the street,    look up at my window and see nobody. So I talk to the fire hydrant, asking "Do you have bigger tears    then I do?" Nobody around, I piss anywhere. My Gabriel horns, my Gabriel horns: unfold the cheerfulies,    my gay jubilation. Nov. 24th, 1957, Paris

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MINHA CAMA ESTÁ COBERTA DE AMARELO

Minha cama está coberta de amarelo – Ó sol, eu sento em ti Ó campo dourado eu deito em ti Ó dinheiro eu sonho contigo Mais, e mais, chora a cama – fale mais comigo – Ó cama que suportou o peso do mundo – todos os sonhos perdidos deitam em ti Ó cama que não cresce cabelo, que não pode ser fodida ou pode ser fodida Ó cama migalhas de todas as idades espalhadas em ti Ó cama amarela marche para o sol ‘nde tua jornada estará completa Ó 22 kg de cama que suporta mais 181 kg – Quão forte tu és Ó cama, apenas para homens & não para animais Cama amarela quando os animais terão direitos iguais? Ó cama de 4 pernas construída para sempre neste chão Ó cama amarela todas as notícias do mundo Deitam-se em ti uma hora ou outra

1957, Paris

My Bed is Covered Yellow       My bed is covered yellow - Oh Sun, I sit on you Oh golden field I lay on you Oh money I dream of you       More, More, cried the bed - talk to me more - Oh bed that taked the weight of the world -       all the lost dreams laid on you Oh bed that grows no hair, that cannot be fucked       or can be fucked Oh bed crumbs of all ages spiled on you Oh yellow bed march to the sun whear yr journey will be done Oh 50 lbs. of bed that takes 400 more lbs-       how strong you are Oh bed, only for man & not for animals       yellow bed when will the animals have equal rights? Oh 4 legged bed off the floor forever built Oh yellow bed all the news of the world       lay on you at one time or another 1957, Paris

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Haikai do Gato

O gato vomitando por todos os quartos É o meu paraíso limpar o vômito Bem! Cá estou na cidade agradando o piso

Cat Haiku

Cat throughing up in all the rooms Is that my heaven to clean up vomit Well!  Here I am in the city tickling floors

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Muitas cadeiras são sozinhas no mundo

Many chairs are alone in the     world

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Quando algo e nada são misturados juntos você tem alguma coisa

When something and nothing get mixed together you get anything

#peter orlovsky #tradução