What tomorrow will bring (PT)

Criei este inferno no teu olhar. Uma fuga duma realidade na qual me encontro. E nela volto com o meu desaparecimento quando o tempo assim o diz conveniente. É relativo ao espaço. Quando lhe procuro, o espaço me aceita para me fazer retornar ao passado e voltar a querer sair do presente lugar onde me encontro.
 

Vejo-te mil vezes nos meus sonhos e em todos a tua face mais pálida do que no sitio anterior. Onde vivi e no desespero, te quis encontrar. Numa situação impraticável te falei e dos suspiros criei uma vontade de ter apenas o que não quero. Ir e voltar. Procuro apenas o que não sei. Quero apenas o desconhecido. Te criaste sem emoção. Morta ao toque duma marioneta cujas mãos e as palavras ocas anseias. 

Volto ao teu olhar: Porque tantas faces. Porque tantos enigmas se és sempre a mesma. Falta-me a vontade de lutar pelo que é meu, então me desleixo na simplicidade do platónico. Pois é mais fácil não ter de enfrentar a verdade (que criaste, que obviamente criaste) do teu olhar.

Evito a repetição na constante procura do êxtase que és. Corpos nus, mãos cheias de dor que transmitem o sabor da vitoria do teu consumo (porque minto? Onde há vitoria num acto tão efémero? Na trivialidade de conseguir apenas aquilo pelo qual o esforço és nulo? Sou um hipócrita de acções egocêntricas. Vivo na contradição das minhas palavras para que a felicidade se mantenha sempre 'a distancia do meu braço. Para que eu me satisfaça ao conceber, ao realizar que nunca poderei obter o que me esta estampado 'a frente.. Magos e feiticeiros são a minha justificação para não dar um paço em frente. Assim não me poderei ver livre do meu objectivo. Pois não sou ninguém. Quem sou eu para dar o passo em frente se não me foi dado esse poder? Se deus me deixou paraplégico de sentimentos? Assim vivo, "feliz")

nccuco

3 pequenos fragmentos

Vou quebrar as minhas regras

para definir as regras que desejo cumprir.

Uma vida de oportunidades desperdiçadas, disse ele.

A do esquecer como uma irrefutabilidade 

para a concretização de se ser lembrado,

em sonhos angustiantes duma reminiscência distorcida

para se tornar um pesadelo recorrente do que se quer.

Quando nunca se teve estas mentiras nostálgicas

na qual me decido banhar.

Um dia te vou esquecer. Oh futuro.

Que me persegues e suspiras ao ouvido:

estou aqui, estou sempre aqui.

nccuco

Temo a morte.
E na ausência da vida
temo esta monotonia do que não deixa ser. 

Receio a estagnação das minhas ideias, 

dos meus actos que me tornam são. 

Desejo as ondas de imensidão correspondente ao tempo que deixa pensar. 

Não esquecendo os prados 

onde posso deitar meus sonhos
e colher olhares de vidas por ter. 

E aqui jaz meu corpo. 

Peço-te o mar, peço-te cidade. 

Pelo amor de deus, peço-te vida! 

Pois morro antes que meus pés toquem nesta terra que julgo ser minha. 

Por favor. minha de novo...

nccuco

Um conjunto de situações desfavoráveis acumularam nisto. 

Não posso deixar de concluir sobre as consequências dos meus actos

que tornaram o presente na sua antítese.

Nos desejos desaparecidos na facilidade

de se sucumbirem em desperdício. 

A contradição do desejado esta ciente de sua presença maquiavelica.

E de pensar que sou a causa disto. 

Que só existes por mim
e te causo meu tormento momentâneo.

Porque o tempo é meu amigo 

e outro dia me acompanhará a um inicio melhor. 

Da-me a mão. 

Larga o copo e toca no chão q pisas. 

Vem.

nccuco

Bottom Lip

It’s always been your lips.

Why aren't you in the presence of my wishes?

To always be shown your departure

as sudden as the arrival of someone’s flesh.

Face, lips, a distorted concept of wishes unknown

to this sudden taste of flesh on a primitive reasoning,

feeling so fresh as my mind drifts to a sense of carnal dishes.

I see your face and nothing more.

And as you distance yourself

I crawl towards you begging for release

of this hold you have in recurring dreams.

I crave your lips and that is all.

For I wish for more but it seems all i long for is a kiss.

It is in your smile that an unknown kills me... So swift.

nccuco

Argue

Understand?

Words of discomfort,

misleading rimes

to compel towards a distance measured by time.

The choice to be appealing

when my voice tells lies

that cannot withstand the boundaries of this band that unites us.

For it does not,

not any longer hold tight to your grasp

for I unwillingly departed myself from such a task.

Feelings unheard,

words unfelt.

She is my third concept of failure.

You've dealt my cards and I only see dark

nccuco

Friends & Family

i'm not saying family isn't important.. it is very important! it's probably the second most important thing in ones life! (i say in ones life because while living we should always take into consideration life it self and it's value as a hole in everything, but that's just another complicated story). what is the most important thing? well obviously your life.. your friends, your home, your town and where u spend your days. i'm not saying friends are more important then family, but while you know family will always be there when on a downfall, friends are what make you! though they will come and go, with each passage they change you, they influence you and they will pull you or towards or away from your true self. it is by them that u will ponder to act. it is by them that ur options will change. your friends aren't important because of who they are, in this hole concept of the importance of what, in ones life, but because THEY ARE YOU. our parents educate you and try to help you distinguish differences between what is right and wrong. but their words are their opinion and only through a social environment does one truly choose and form his own true will. who do u search to impress? family? no.. why? because it is almost a biological law that they will love you unconditionally and pull you through your downs. but you seek your friends attention, your friends respect and that is why they made you to whom you are! of course one only has to benefit from having family as friends. but it is not all that simple. time comes and families drift only to be joined in pain or remembrance. and the feeling to have someone join you because they truly choose to and not do to a unwritten law of obedience, feels so rewarding. no.. fulfilling is a better word. you are complete with your own. with those who chose you and who you chose. be wise. choose with caution. do not let yourself be pushed down by these friendlyish foes. but pull yourself above these. lead the way or be led.. but make sure the path, the life is the one you choose to follow. though you are many, you are you and everyone has there own wishes. bla bla bla.. i'm rambling. probably said enough.

Infatuation

[erm... This one's kind of old]

What do you want me to tell you?  
That I’m anxious to see you? 
That I crave for your presence and when we're apart I wish it not? 
Not that I want to touch you. But feel you, to be compelled towards your touch  
And be fired up in a gaze of gleaming eyes every time you are about?  
Why run from reality? From the inescapable truth that is love?  
That is the joy of being among you and to only hope to hold you at night? 
I read your words like a mystery,  
Like a thriller where I only see the death of my heart.  
My burden is to live on in your absence.  
But then again,  
To live without love is to feel pain in every step, to suffer on every breath,  
To feel anguish and despair in the lonelity of the crowd.  
This mob that mocks me with there trivial actions of fortitude.  
My friends rejoice in laughter as I peel in pain.  
Their smile my tear.  
For we are apart.  
For math is as it should and two continue to be so, when I wished it one.  
Wished us one.

nccuco

The other Legion

[kind of poor. not that great...]

I've called u so many names.
Non of which i choose to tame and say is mine.
If i ask myself why,
you should of realized long ago
your worth as much as a dime.
Though not my intention
this rhyme serves me well. 

I hope to create in you some sort of infatuation,
keep on me your attention
for only a moment.
For after i grasp your breath
and lock your touch in my memory
you are to become my torment.
Thrown away, locked in my pouch,
as vulnerable as grass, u seem to just pass.
(stop the comment! i do not care)
pass through my life
as i riped you out of my heart. 

Your voice (which i don't bare)
became a clean knife
i use to keep people apart.
Nuno.. keep the poise.
Do not lean any further.
For the abyss lies two feet away
and i am not keen
to see you at the end of this. 

Oblivion. It's where i am. It's what you are. 
I do not call you mine
for so many names only serve to pass time.
You were a waste of time...
I've called you so many names,
and this is what you became.

nccuco 

What tomorrow will bring

I’ve created this inferno in your gaze.
an escape from reality in which I find myself.
and to it I return with my disappearance
when time finds it convenient.

it's relative to the space.
when I search for it, the place will accept me
only to make me return to my past and,
once again,
leave the present in which I consistently find myself.

I see you a thousand times in my dreams.
And in all of them your face grows paler
from the previous place I’ve been.
where I’ve lived and in despair sought to find you.

In an impractical situation I spoke to you
and from whispers I created a will to possess only what I do not desire.
to go and come.
I search only what I do not know.
I want only the unknown.

You were created without emotion.
Dead to the touch of a puppet
whose hands and hollow words you wish for.

I return to your gaze...
Why so many faces?
why so many enigmas if you are always the same?
I lack the will to fight for what is mine
so I slack in the simplicity of the platonic.
for it is easier not having to face the truth
(that you created. that you so obviously created!)
of your gaze.

I avoid repetition
in the constant search
of the ecstase that you represent.
Naked bodies,
hands full of pain
that transpire the taste of victory in your consumption.

(why do I lie?
where is there victory in the ephemeral?
the trivial in achieving only what I need make no effort for?
I am a hypocrite of egocentric actions.
I live in the contradiction of my words
so that happiness is always a step away.
so I can be satisfied by conceiving
realizing that I can never behold what is at arms length.
Mages and wizards are my justification
to not give one step forward.
So I can never be free from my objective.
For I am no one.
Who am I to move forward
if that power was not given to me?
if God made me a paraplegic of emotion?
And so, I live. "Happy").

nccuco

United we Stand Alone

[This is about... I'd say selfishness is the word to best describe the subject. Don't want to go into details]

I wanna go for a walk

but there is nowhere to go.

Nothing to see but trees

chained to places they don't belong.

Comfort created without pain as a prerequisite.

All is given freely at the price of joy,

taken to places that cease to exist.

Freedom is given the name of a bullet

and you shoot towards a rally of bunches of nothing

and rejoice with nobodies who never were but always the same.

Fools in your eyes.

The teacher taught by the wrong.

It no longer is your place to know what nobody you know ever knew.

Rise and go forth brother.

Teach the word of ignorance once more

for not knowing is only pain to others.

Your happiness no one else's.

Praise judgment. Praise monotony.

For they are the only path to acceptance.

You have gone far and have been forgotten.

Now rest assured nothing shall come of it.

For the soulless have no redemption.

The blissful have no eyes.

 So your truths are but your own and now rest with you.

Let's lay arms brothers

and hold your hands together

as this grenade implodes on the infidel within us all.

Alive but not breathing.

We're long dead...

nccuco

Crianças Ingénuas

[Não tanto um poema como uma descrição sobre alguém que vislumbra uma relação crescer em pessoas que não sabem lidar com ela]

Vejo-os sempre juntos.      Os seus olhares preguiçosos contam mais do que eles desejam q se saiba. O desvio dum permite a memorização de todos os pormenores da face de outrem.      Uns não admitem, outros não sabem que tem algo a admitir ainda.      Vejo o desejo de gritar o que ele não quer dizer a ninguém. E ela... Ela já se sabe que tem o grito la dentro mas fica rouca antes de saber por quem chama a voz que voa no seu estômago ingénuo de toques inocentes.      De coisas incoerentes vive a pobre alma obcecada por algo que na incessante procura, perdeu.      São crianças. Não sabem se não de mentiras que não dizem se não contos de verdades escancaradas em suas faces. Mas eu leio mais do que faces... O que na opinião de alguém inadvertido seria indiferença, nos meus olhos vê-se a repressão de sentimentos óbvios. Como brincam na areia, se falam e se olham... Ah como se olham.      Seus olhos iluminados duma felicidade da qual nem eles sabem que possuem na presença do outro.      Como se desejam sem se falarem. Como se beijam sem se tocarem. Como se enganam ao pensarem que não há ali mais nada se não almoços e jantares sujeitos ao aleatório do tempo livre que decidem sempre passar juntos. Como as crianças se tornam homens e mulheres, e só depois se assumem como perdedores do que podiam ter sido. E a infelicidade de saber que o que se perdeu não volta e que tudo, agora inferior a nada.        O sofrimento de nunca mais se tocarem não se iguala ao sofrimento que sinto ao saber que a felicidade foi evitada. Jovens, incoerentes, ingénuos. Ele chora sem chorar. Ela sorri sem nunca rir. E eu sofro por ver morrer mais um jovem preso no arrependimento e não sabes o que custa dizer: um amor... Sim, um amor.... Que nunca foi aceso. 

nccuco 

Hemispheres

[About the "rationalizing" of a choice between to different people in a girls mind]

He told her he'd miss her. She told him the same not sure of it's sincerity.

Her mind has been constantly drifting for so long between left and right. And though devided she has always been sure of what's right. But for these days she would have to confront what she, for so long, evaded.

Her mind switches to the left, ceasing to know what is right. Or if right was ever but a distraction of the craves derived from the stimuli given to the wrong sided hemisphere. But how can left feel right. How can wrong be good. To let go, to release. Her mind was no longer divided. Her clouded judgment only focused on one man these days. The more clouded she got the more clear was her line of thought, her reasoning to no longer reason with herself. Her obvious preference for this person who... Just knows what to do, where to touch. So today she thinks she only wants him, but tomorrow... We all know tomorrow she will only want what's right.

nccuco

O Jerko Malignio Ingenuo

[About what goes on in the mind of a.. well.. a jerk i guess]

We walk. 

My thoughts drift away from you as i pace myself to coincide with your steps. 

Cars. maybe. or tattoos.

I believe i do not know if i believe in the certainty of what i do not or even may feel for.. 

You or anyone else.

Today. well.. tomorrow we'll do something different. 

I'll love you more (or less the same).

Wheels.

I give rides with a certain occasion just to prove myself i do not want to take rides. 

But then again i have to have a continuous race with myself to know i still can. 

And only that way i know i do not need to do whatever it is i do. 

You haven't been what you used to be. 

It seems u love me more and it's, well.. 

I don't care what it is.

Where are you going? 

I seem to not ask myself if it matters.. just do it. run in the woods. 

Well maybe not run but hop. 

Yes, i love it when you hop. 

You or anyone else for that matter. but not like it does. 

It doesn't matter at all. just distraction. 

Why? you may ask myself.

And i don't really know.

nccuco

Back!

Tres anos depois decido voltar a publicar os meus passatempos. Para me entreter, para me organizar, porque quero, porque gosto e talvez para serem lidos.
Embora ja nao ache piada ao que escrevi 'a seis anos nao os elemino apenas como lembranca do que foi escrito, dos erros e das melhorias.
Vou comessar a escrever mais em ingles ou nas duas linguas apenas para ter uma escrita com compreensao mais universal.
Irei publicar tudo o que escrevi enquanto nos estados unidos. Um ou dois por dia apenas, para estar melhor organizado.

(meu teclado e' americano, nao terei muitos assentos e C de cedilha)

Three years later i decide to post my hobbies once again. To entertain, to organize myself, because i want to, because i enjoy it and even, maybe, to be read.
Though i no longer find my early "work" that good i do not delete it as memory of what was written, the mistakes, the improvements.
I'm gonna start writing more in english or in both only for my writing to have a more universal comprehension.
I shall publish everything written while in the states. Only one or two a day, at most, for better organization.

Hope you enjoy and of course, any feedback is appreciated.