"M...ON MY NAME PAPPY MEAN A MOM!!"
"OH NO MONEY PAY NO ME, NO!"
View the Fame: Vive la Femme!
I was mindlessly watching the TV
When I saw someone being interviewed.
She was a model I once knew.
And her career was brand-new.
She had a scar in her face.
I thought, “In God’s Grace!”
She is just so pretty…
But that's such a pity!
And then she was there, a famous actress.
In spite of all the terrible distress,
From what was not even a defect
But actually was due to an accident.
So I said, “What a Grace, Oh God dear!”
She overcame what limited her career
And went beyond the limits and disgrace
To become more than just a pretty face.
She had to dip deep inside her soul
To discover her own beauty, her world
To shine and show that in spite of all appearances
That she was much more in all her essence.
Nothing is so small
That isn’t worth fighting for.
Nothing is so great
That is nothing more than fate.
Soul: A Fire Breath
Spirit sparkles its breath.
Gouge bouncing with gums.
Life-Giving relentlessly chasms earth.
Great lines dance until noon,
Casting shadows on waterholes.
Within
The bridge to Home
Has always been.
Not all paths lead to Rome.
More doesn't mean whole.
But within the heart
That is a good start.
"In the desert"
I told her,
"Men hands shake,
Then dance with one another,
Just sheik to sheik!"
Wings
Forced between the doorways of each dimension,
We can gaze upon the whole Creation,
With reverence for all life and Nature,
That's the destiny of all creatures.
That's the surest way to grow in Wisdom
And to lift the veils of all Illusions.
By the kindness for each other we offer
Knowing that anytime others suffer
We suffer as much as they do,
For we are all part of one body and soul
Being the body of God, as One, as the Truth.
Seeing ourselves not as mirrors but as parallel thoughts
We ought to be right on the angels' side.
And the wings of Love we shall ride.
"Your Voice"
How sweet your sound
That cheers the shrew who once was me.
I once drifted but now I'm grounded,
Now I can find what there is to be.
My heart once was full of fear
Now fears no more, but it's relieved.
How precious we all are here,
That's what I now believe.
So many dangers, and wars
We already have to overcome.
It was Love who brought us thus far
And Love will lead us back Home.
It's been billions of years
That we shine as the sun,
And we will return, my dear,
To where we first begun.
Tap, tap, give a pat in a palindrome wor^l^d!
Dream during a fight
When it's easy to leave
Win the inner battle, seize
An improbable flight.
Turn the world all around.
Torn the prison of a soul.
How many wars, how high or low
Until peace will ressound?
Know that was not in vain
To kiss the ground no ashamed
To die of passion, not to lame,
To look for a better refrain.
And the flowers blossoming soon unlock
The tapping water from inside the rock.
Out of the unknown
There must be somewhere out of the unknown
Where my heart can find peaceful dreams
Where it seems that the world is not a stone
It's more like a dream than the dream that I know
It's there where I finally find my peace
It's alluring and soothing, sometimes boring.
Oh, yeah! For dreams can also be a piece
Of a fleeting soul in constant soaring
And sometimes I fly out of the blue
Into the creek and le Fontainebleau;
And my heart can sleep in sweet angels
Some dreams of the fountain of jewels.
And I can scream and I can laugh
All over to the rhythms of this Bath.
A Form informed
I had a dream last night that informs:
"Only forms can violate others forms."
What could that possibly mean?
Is that this life form we are in?
There is chaos, but in a spiritual way
Where there is no form, I dare to say,
There is nothing to frighten, to be afraid,
Thus in the spirit of God, our soul is laid?
In spiritual law we are One, but our forms are like humans,
Although our magical powers are not, in no means.
Therefore I cannot decide what to call US,
Mighty One, Pure One, what our nature is.
Please enlighten me now you all on this matter.
It's with pure love and light that I send this letter.
PORTRASS
The ecstasis consists on giving your back
To the ordinary way
While maintaining on track
Of the Spirit who calls us to stay
And unite from beyond the fuss.
For happiness lies beneath trust
When we surrender ourselves away!
Everyone wants to show their best facade;
As if in a big mascarade
They show exactly not who they are,
But who they are not.
They show their best shot
A face used as a mask.
They put all their efforts to look rare,
To look good in their own task.
I do not care.
I actually do dare
To show “mon arriere”;
That for me it is allright.
Portrass:
Like the name already says
Here I give my back and do my best
To pass through what was once imposed.
Here I am not afraid to expose.
I go beyond the limits and the labels
looking forward to a glimmering blast
And for a present free from a past.
Here I am actually able
To be transparent to my enemies.
Here I dare to set myself free,
Leaving behind on my track
All the pain that hooked me back.
I have nothing to be ashamed of.
I may be untamed
I may be a shrew
But I can also be an angel
when I allow me to be shrewd.
When I leave my fears
And don't give any more ears
To all that is behind me.
I do not allow me to be screwed.
Regressions from a Regret (Another songwriting)
That aura of regret
Keeps hovering over my head.
It's like a warning sign
Honking a horn in my mind.
But then...Bang!
Another crash...right into the trash.
Here I am, my friend,
Falling in love all over again.
But it's been like that:
You give your hand, they want your soul.
You give your body, they want your blood.
Like vampires in the desert
They're craving for the dessert.
It is because of that pervert
That my heart is hurt
Because of that flirt
That now I feel no touch
under my sk-in, my sh-in...
Oh, and he was so mean!
Or was that all my fault?
Because I just love too much...
I don't want to see him anymore
It burns inside and I feel the sore.
He took me for granted too many times before.
He made me feel as just a who(?)...air...crush...
For all those women who suffer for love,
Dip inside in the deep of their core.
I've got an advice to tell:
Be love itself, instead of in love to hell
Then you may even get a score
For only love can heal from the sacred well.
Changing Reality By Charging Reliability
A friend needed help with a poem on drug.
In spite of the dense theme,
She had to keep under the rug
Some coarse words from the beam.
Yet she needed to get the "hell" out of IT too!
So I dragged in and hoped my thoughts were due:
"I don't get the "profanity" :
You cannot say "who...(a)re"
But you may easily get a score
On writing "lady of the evening"
And yet it has the same meaning.
For this is also nitty-gritty.
You can always change in a way
What they call "politically correct"
To a determined group anyway.
Just for instance, instead of elect:
"My power is awesome as you’ve been told before
I can take your girlfriend and make her a who...(?)*"
You could add on this last phrase the word lore
Taking away the who(?)* to arrange another core:
"I can take you as my pupil although without a lore"
Meaning, you can get high and thus
Pay a huge and not worthy price.
Better learn to get a buzz
By creative acts and not destructive vices.
By rhymes you may teach
Without intending to preach,
What they may appreciate better
For IT doesn't sweat the sweater.
Why not substitute the last phrase from:
"Come ... take my hand ... let me lead you to hell"
To two more trying not to roam:
"Come, take my hand,
For from there you may swell!
See how deep I can take you to never return land
If you are willing to drink of this well!"
I know my words may not cause yet
As much impact as a direct line.
But keeping IT po-l-etically cohere(n)t
Can still stir up some worlds just fine.
Perhaps, not smooth the heavy load from the vine,
May IT bring us hope and light from a yoke divine."
*A point not to be seen:
I kept IT PG-13!
The Violation of a Poetic Form
"In my eyes, religion is a little bit like a knife.
In the hand of a surgeon it can save a life."
Do you know you just made poetry?
That's is what Life is about. Pure core.
Poetry.
Try to violate that and the magic is no more.
Poetry says by itself, it answers its own questions.
"To be or Not To be, That's the question!"
...And that is the answer.
Isn't it much more for our own ignorance and greed?
That we create conflicts, and not by our beliefs?
You have a knife, and with that knife
You can make constructive things,
Like a boat, a hut, or simply cutting a slice of bread
I didn't say cutting the cheese, though (I laugh.)
With that same knife you can also kill someone.
Which way do you choose to use the knife?
So, it is just a matter of perspective and intention.
I will continue to say,
"WE ARE ONE WITH GOD,
but WE ARE NOT GOD!"
For He died for us and it was not in vain.
We shall appreciate His sacrifices and vail
His values in the land God reserved herein.
The good and pure in heart shall then prevail.
In exact a 150-word-lei,
Here She IS:Merry Maudling!
Also known as Mary "Magdalone"
Has an old fashioned tone.
A wonderful woman full of lore,
Always smiling like a sunshine ray.
When kissed she may soar.
So be quiet and let her stay.
Although timid she can make you cry
If you don’t keep her close to your heart.
Another name for you to defy
Her intense influence is sacred art!
So please be quiet and take a rest
She is there for your own glory.
If you make too much of a test
One day you might be sorry.
Don’t sore too much either,
For she might get angry with you.
You might as well feed her or need her,
Then maybe she might need you too.
So be careful with what your whisper
For you might get used to drift a lot.
If you don’t pay attention to her
She might leave you without a plot.
Light Ark, Dark Height
I am always so close to the light,
but in some way I'm afraid.
I resisted of touching the light
that generously presented to me,
only due to my own ignorance.
Now I know there is nothing to be afraid of,
since that light is pure love.
That's the light in me
Delighting me.
That is it! God is Love.
And if I have love inside my heart,
I have God inside me.
See?
Thinking this way,
I can see the light now.
It was only a matter of perspective.
Conjuring within the subconscious a dark night,
Sweaty dark-eyed villains like horrifying sharks
Run below the light.
Dark induce silence.
Can dark-eyed villains
Nowhere connect to chains?
Sweaty sea of horrifying sharks,
The dark within, silence induces.
Damned subconscious looms.
>
Poetry not always rhyme,
But, sometimes, it has to try me.
To a light heart and not a "Light" hurt
You made lots of friends here,
Don’t ever forget, please, dear!...
I am your friend forever and a day!
You are sunshine and I pray:
Like the little prince
You made a friend since
You captured my heart.
Do not forget that you are a part
Of our Planet of Love in many ways.
Someway you can find a delight
But you find a way not to fight!
The Spirit of Life
"I thought I'd found a reason to live,
Only to know that dreams made of sand
Would be vanished and gone with a breeze as leaves
That just fall apart and slip through my hand.
But my spirit rejoices in love and this love keeps me strong
And makes me know where I belong.
That in anyway I could not be all that wrong,
If I live the joy of living, that all is done.
And my spirit remains in a silenced light.
I never thought it would be like this.
or this love makes me feel so bright!
It lives outside as well as in...
In total bliss.
As the veins in my body run all along,
So does this love that keeps my heart strong.
Sculptures of Love
In former days the masks were raised
When God came from the mountain.
All the sacrifices were already made
For they knew there will be a fountain.
So many endless tears will pass by
Because it cannot show us the proof
of what make us fall and make us high
For insanity cannot play the truth.
But it would only make us aloof
if we don't clean what is inside the roof.
But right there, just across the sea
Lies the renewal of a virtual fountain.
It's just there that we may see
The whole peak of a heaven's mountain.
The nest of our dreams can be found
in the height that transcends all mysteries.
But this could hold us into the sound
that breaks the code of all our miseries.
It still won't change the fact
of our existence
If we keep our eyes into the
distance.
FLYING BIRDS
The flying birds call to stand
Endowed to undo a holeless sight
The winds of change consume our land
While we remain in shadows of nights.
All the leaves fall and turn into dust.
Signs of things to come and go
Imaginations, fantasies or simply disgusts,
Can be the wings of what is to be told.
A man can be made as bright as gold
But bear a distant relation to sublime power
By which the Creator projects and codes
Upholding His Universe to create a holy bower.
It's a happiness to wonder,
as it's to dream.
How wonderful if dreams as
life could seem!
"You must surrender yourself to the Higher Power.
Open up your heart as a huge and kind sunflower.
Don't be afraid. One day, you will find your way.
One day, you will know where you ought to stay."
"People search so confused their happiness
They just forgot to live in harmony and peace.
They live on the obscurity and blindness,
For they always fight against what they see.
They are killing the child inside their hearts.
The child who can give the life back to them.
They continue to make war, pain and hurt
The child who still insists to live in then.
The world of children is a world of colors
Where there are still hope and freedom.
Around them there are peace and flowers.
So many children living in their wisdom.
Awake all the children in the world
For them we live, for them we owe."
Voice of an Angel (also recorded in the CD album called "The Sound of
Poetry")
"Sometimes I feel like living in the sky
Where a beautiful angel whispers on my ear,
'Look and you will see inside your eye
All the beauty, and pain, and sorrow and fear'.
Sometimes the angel's voice echoes in my mind
As a reality which confounds me in a way so rare.
'Cause all these thoughts make me feel so blind
For they can never seem to be the way they are.
But in the middle of all these confusions
I can even hear a bell that cheerfully rings
An angel, so pretty, invades my illusion.
And makes me happy, and makes me sing.
But
again it echoes on my heart the voice
That
I can still regret and make the choice."
(When I wrote that I was totally in love with someone and I believed this
one was an angel...
Actually it WAS an angel, but an angel that lives inside my heart, trying
to explain to me that what I was seeing was just an illusion and that the
reality is what we make of IT.)
How Many A-fair^i^es
Do You Find In "Heir'ss"?
"A Woman or a Girl? A Girl Inside a Woman"
She is a woman becoming a girl,
For the girl is inside of the woman.
She spreads poetry, love and pearl.
She is a rainbow, but still a human.
She brings joy, happiness, and dreams.
She observes and feels everything.
She feels she knows what it means
What is hidden toward the within.
The woman rejoins in joy and all over
Becoming one, the woman and the girl.
One cannot live without the other
So they think, they mix and make a curl.
Together woman and girl have
a tremendous energy
Making dreams, life and endless
desires, the reality.
An Hour With A Flower
Blossom without fear, she awakes
Each petal she opens with a smile.
Heart beats stronger... she shakes.
Yawning lips kiss in bliss for a while.
Out of her cocoon, wing still ajar.
Afraid of showing what she feels.
She knows about life, she’s smart.
She wants to know the whole deal!
Her naive, handfull of sweet purity.
Love will come and so her desires.
The world seems a great mystery.
With joy she conquers an empire.
The portraits of a young flower
Coming to life-it takes an hour!
One day, someone told me,
"Never look back to complain.
Never regret, never judge or indulge,
But keep going on with no pain."
At night, awaken, someone said,
"Happiness lives in the present!
And if you live your life so sad
Your journey won't be so pleasant."
One day, I saw the smile of a child
And I learned how great that life is
That it could be as sweet and mild
As they are our triumph and glories.
So I keep going on with no
pain.
As I can say, I can do it all
again
The Angel in Blue
>
Dream, just dream, my angel blue.
Dream the sweetest dreams you knew.
But make sure that you dream in love
So that will be more than a dream above.
Dream, dream, my angel without pain,
So that you won't have perished in vain.
Dream in love, and dream in flight
Dream all that you can be and fight.
Fight for a better tomorrow and a day
When we won't have to suffer anyway.
Be a blue angel and not an angel blue,
Be happy, be light, be all that you can do.
Do not make castles in the air
And do not make them in the sand
Because they will all in the end
Vanish away, they won't be there.
So dream and dream my angel blue,
And make all your dreams come true.
"A knight ain't gonna fight?"
Go, man! Go and ride like the knights
Through the horizons of your hopes
Come, man! Come in endless nights
Through the excitement of your soul.
Transcend your fears;Tears that fall
Fulfilling with love, through the earth.
Don't be afraid of the shadows at all,
For in there are the ghosts' breath.
The most beautiful ghosts of imagination.
Run, man, through your sorrows and find
What your spirit accomplishes in actions.
Go with the wind on the clouds of a mind.
Go, man, in desires, eager
for adventures.
Come, man, with fresh scents
of ventures.
Just looking at the beach at a sandpit
I sit and observe the horizon from a ship.
For the men, if you see, there is no pity.
Just come and go, fighting for the trip.
But now they are just what they are.
And nothing can change them, thus.
Only the moment that is now, or far
Could move them away, just like us.
I turn my golden face back to the sun.
It makes me feel all the mysteries at once.
Only passion and love, music and fun,
The magical song spreads and announces:
The love that makes me feel
so blue
That's the same one that made
my dream come true.
"No Fake, a Snowflake's Face
Angel face, like snowflakes
With the sweetest and pure blue eyes.
A brief smile that is what it takes
To bring the sky where he just lies.
Dream, angel, and see dreams!
And live the most beautiful songs.
Tell us to try to make it seems
That nothing in the world is wrong.
Pray, my little prince, my dreamer
With this golden hair reflecting you.
Pray for us, for we don’t live in fear,
And to live our lives as we must do.
Living the simplicity from the Universe.
For simple this world
is the inverse.
A Mis-en-Scene:
My melancholy
IS rather colic:
She has a shape of melon
And a face like collie,
Not that sweet and mellow,
Can get quite frolic!
Even when it's yellow
Nobody says it's jolly!
'S No Fake: A SNOWFLAKES Face ("Ana-crustic" Version)
S:uch a pretty angel's face made of snowflakes.
N:ot a dream but with the sweetest blue eyes.
O:h...just a brief smile and that's what it takes
W:ith a bright sky it brings blue where he lies.
F:or life is more than dreams, my angel, dream!
L:ive thus and leave us the most beautiful songs
A:s if telling us lies and our lives as they seem
K:notting pieces of naughty vicious of sins on and on...
E:xperience living the simplicity of the entire Universe.
S:ensing the simple version of a world as its inverse."
"Now Close the Windows"
Now so close all loose stood the widows,
For the winter has made it home.
Let’s hibernate on weeping willow
And wait for spring to come.
Books and movies we must take on now
To make us company in the lovely evening.
And that night the dead went out.
“They go out in every reading!”
Let’s invite all authors, from North to South,
And all fields of the same feeding.
And be delighted inside and out,
While they make us hymns of dreaming.
For a writer a word is not as swiftly,
Unless it is a just word indeed.
If the end of eternity is ni^f^ty
Then the end of infinite is neat.
Chanting hymns of love to their lands,
Flying over eternal words of joy or dismay,
Kept alive through earthly hands,
Yet FrostY, writers live forever and a day!
Fiat "Faith"
Only by the power of your thoughts
If you really want what you mean
After all your ties and efforts
You shall make real your dream.
For every dream that doesn't
Come true for lack of courage
It's like a castle on the desert
Which remains like a mirage.
Castles in the air, on the sand
Or on the rocks, there are many!
Built by the power of any hand
Maybe there is not any one, any!
But with the power of your
believes
Hopes and faith will make that
lives.
I feel a vertigo all at once.
It is my dreams that blow.
Filling my heart I announce
All the love my life can show.
Dreams that make me a child.
Wild dreams bringing me memory.
Desires that make me smile
All remembering my whole story.
A tender look for all those years
Memories of flights over the hills.
The child on me that still remains
Remembers how it made me feel.
Loosing the ground I fall from
the stars
And go straight to the safe
shore so far.
Numbers
I may count the stars
And I count each of them.
Then a pretty music starts
And I count it again and again.
How could I have each one?
If I just can't understand
Why they want to live alone
With so much love at hand?
I have been playing with words
And I could touch each note
I dream and see the entire world
And I remember what I wrote:
Stars and
music, they're the same.
They just
change their own names.
Packs of Pax, Piece In Peace:
"What is that is beyond your smile
That is so fantastic and so exciting?
Which gives and shows me the wild
Impression and makes it delighting.
What is this fire of love and feelings
Which invades my body and my soul,
And makes me smile and be cheering?
How can you make me feel that so?
What is it that makes you so differ
And yet makes you so very special?
Maybe I repeat it, but I can't bear
Knowing that seeing you is essential.
On whatever movement my passion
makes
My heart grows higher and never
breaks."
"Si vis pacem, para belle!"
"If you want peace, prepare for bliss!!"
^Y^ou
"I feel your presence on my dreams.
I hear your voice in all my silences.
I think of you and it always seems
I see you in the deep of my blindness.
I see you each time I close my eyes.
I live on you within your absence.
I think of you the time the sun rises
And for you I loose all my senses.
Your eyes light up my night as a moon.
My heart beats on the rhythm of emotion.
My soul is bright so tenderly and soon
I realize I live for you in such devotion.
I love my life for it depends
on you.
I love you the way I was born
to do.
A Pho(e)tic Star(t)
"I feel a vertigo all at once.
It is my dreams that blow.
Filling my heart I announce
All the love my life can show.
Dreams that make me a child.
Wild dreams bringing me memory.
Desires that make me smile
All remembering my whole story.
A tender look for all those years
Memories of flights over the hills.
The child on me that still remains
Remembers how it made me feel.
Loosing the ground I fall from the stars
And go straight to a brand new start."
A Phun-ethic In-Star
"The tumultuous heavens above
Affect not the color of our love,
For though the clouds are heavy in the skies,
The clouds tend to disappear in your eyes.
They have a clear and brilliant hue,
Those deep eyes that are so blue...
See the heavens so peaceful above,
Clearly your eyes problems may solve.
If you show the color of your essence
I still believe we can grow in senescence
As odd as it sounds, together, you and I.
For that 's what I see in your eye.
I feel it in my heart so strong
And I know I can't be wrong.
That our love will grow on and on.
And forever will never be so long."
A Mighty Tower My Love IS!
"For all those lonely long-lasting days and nights
I stayed firmly at the top of the highest tower.
I waited for the huge, tender and hopeful insight
So that I could finally prove all my power.
The power of love which unshakeable remains
As through the tempests it's still so bright.
No fear of thunder, or wind, or quakes, or rains.
Come to me, my heavenly angel, o my light!
My heart so eagerly devoted wants to show
My love, so stronger and higher each day.
So tenderly and easily more and more it grows.
And so it will be, and so it will stay.
After all the dreadful trials and appalling
pain
At last, royal and divine, all delighted
I shall reign."
"I used to walk so happy, 'mon cher'
Because with me you always stayed.
And with me you were used to share
All the good moments that we played.
But on a cold and dreadful day
When the wind blew so lanky
Without reason you went away
Leaving me alone and so empty.
Now all the torment of my heart
Hurts my body as I walk alone
My mind on you memories coverts
Images of you and I as one.
Killing me slowly in cruel
despair
I still see you strong as I
can bear."
The sweetest rays of light
That penetrates into my soul
invades my life as a treasured insight
But also makes me feel so low.
The sweetest moonlight so fair
That touches gently into my windowpane
Illuminates my front in a way so rare
But it reminds me of you and I feel the pain.
I am dying for loving you while here I lie
For once you were all over me and you were mine!
For you I live, and for you I will die
I will love you, dear, until
the end of time.
One Hundred Words
Yesterday a bird fell from a tree.
I took the finch from the street,
Made a nest, covered it at night
I thought it would be all right.
Early in the morning I see:
The bird didn't eat a seed.
It strived to survive, someway.
Little by little, it faded away.
What could I do more than I have done?
I kissed its head, I let it die alone.
I left it breathing slowly and small.
It died. I cried, but I smiled after all.
It was so little to live and fight,
But very strong to leave an insight."
Live in Flight!
Love+Light,
Ana "In" Tunes
P.S. I counted and recounted over and over again,
For this sonnet to reach A Hundred Words:such a pain!
Hallo Wins (Port-a-Quizz In the Squeeze)
This is the night of glooming halo-in
When gauzy wit(ch)'s not to be seen
But some are red, others are light green.
And some are so bright they actually gleam.
This is the night when witty souls fly
On their whizzing (b)room in starry sky.
They stir up the clouds of their minds
And begin a new day with magical signs.
This is the night when old wives tell stories
Fascinating us with their charm and glories.
Wishes, spells, they offer spinning around the fire
As we can hear their whispers as a perfect choir.
This is the night when holographic angels flow
Through the gardens or winging on the snow.
They cleanse the houses and spread new rhymes
So that we are all ready for the Christmas time.
The Nine Journeys and the Tao
There are some quotes from the Tao that are quite confucius-ing. I'd mention t(w)o:
"Tao is an eternal mystery, and everything starts with Tao. Everybody has Tao in them. They just have to use it."
"The moment you try to use Tao you have already lost it."
I do have some contradictionary quotes too and I'd like to expose seven quotations from my book "DOW" if you may allow me:
"When you try to use it, you are tempted to abuse it. It's a question between 'sins&senseability'!"
"You cannot loose what you already possess inside of you."
"Stick on what you got and you can even get a t®ick or t®ue."
"If you are not "out-law'd" then you might be for bid'in."
"If you think you can eat, you already lost it!"
"Those who are afraid of loosing never had it from the first place."
"Once you use it, you can bruise it if you misuse it. But if you loose it, don't snooze: it suits you!"
All things have their own zest
Even if in the outside they crack.
Don't get so hard on your cask!
And if someone tells you are wrong, think again....
They might be right!
So just Drop the Mask and Face the Task!!
When talking about the "Whether"
It's worse or better
Take a piece of advice
And device this twice:
Before entering into a vice
Choose to suffice
Between fire and ice!
When ta(l)king vis-a-vis
All that has a price will free-ze!
So Mr. Bad Weather, please
I beg you to do just this:
When you come closer to a piece
Just become a small breeze
Saying, "Peace!"
Luv+Lux,
Ana In Tux!
"A Prayer For a Prey"
Peace at Least in the middle of the Earth
for our hearts to drink from this mirth
and not another myth for our own rebirth.
With all that the Intelligence may allow ,
We need to find this sniper who has been killing so many now!
He has been making our entire community go to our knees and pray.
But keeping us from our freedom, and inside he shall not make us stay!
I ask you all, please,
Lovely members of this planet, at least
To pray so that we can solve this terror and stop the beast.
He already killed too many innocent people.
He terrorized so many here just for fun, for so little.
But he will never kill our hopes or our spirit.
He who claims to be God. But only God can create in synergy.
And He/She would never kill, but transform the energy.
Let's pray and have the light all around us.
To banish the darkness of our spirit forever thus
Where there is a light there is no failure.
Here I live my humble and sincere prayer.
Let's stop the violence and the war from being around us.
And I sign below as an act of faith
With Much Luv + Lux,
Ana AnTUNES
Thank you so much for "hearing"
my words, and allowing me to share my own experiences. I do have my limitations.
I wished I were an angel, but I am a mere(?) human being. Especially because
I cannot handle English as well as if I were dancing on my tiptoes, but
true, I do have value. I do believe as I began Ballet with my flat feet I
also can write with my flat English.
I can accomplish much with little: If God gave me a lemon, I would not
only, adding some sugar and water, make a lemonade but I would as well keep the seeds and plant new lemon trees. Instead
of crying for the lack of opportunities I take what I have and make them
grow. I see potential in each small thing. So I assure you that from the
little vocabulary I have I can make it a good thing if you look into another
perspective; I do not have any vicious of language and no rigid style, I
can be reshaped any way the muses direct me to. You see, I'm very flexible (thanks
to my years of Ballet) and I can dance any music you play! I will dip into
my words, to "find my own voice", as a Senior Editor suggested me to do:
But how am I supposed to my own voice expose and find,
if there are just so many characters also playing inside my mind?
I should give them expression and voice as well.
And write the stories they are eager to tell.
But there is a way I can easily access to my core,
and make a chorus in poetic lines flowing from each pore
It is when I sing that I give voice to my soul.
May I sing high, may I sing low.
Just the poor neighbors,
Who have to listen to my labors...
I've always loved to sing. I'm not a professional singer; in spite of all,
I do my best! I sing for you, and dance in the stage called life, and paint a
beautiful picture of us all together making a remarkable work of Art!
When you bear a cross, you hold a sword.
That's where it lives, your soul.
If you cannot find your voice, your word
Find yourself in the myriads of what you sow.
And from there you may grow!
Once I was at the Heathrow Airport in London and the woman at the Customs
Service started to throw an avalanche of questions at me. In the end, she
asked me what my father did, and after hours standing up there and quite
tired, I responded to her inquiring face:
"He is a liar!" She looked
at me, astonished, and then I said:
"0h, I mean, a lawyer, a lawyer!" She stamped the maximum of time permission
Visa on my passport.
She must have thought:
"With that English, girl, you cannot go too far"
Nope. Instead, after I apologized for my bad English she replied:
"You did pretty well!"
(A particle of the Introduction from "The ^Da Vinte Koans^ Book of Poems") available at http://www.lulu.com/content/57754
"When I was at school, my colleagues used to write at each other's diaries,
anything they could think about their friendship. Every time those kinds
of memories and souvenirs or books reached into my hands, I would write
poems into them. I couldn't find any better way to write about my feelings
than through the rhythms of flowing words as in poetry. Then, they would
all dispute to who could get the best poem Ana Claudia would write for them,
for each and every one I would write something different for I had different
feelings and outlooks for and from them.
Then, I would notice that some liked my poems so much that they would
actually copy them into other diaries, of course without saying that it
was written by me.
I was flattered, although I realized also that maybe they wouldn't think
that I wrote them by myself and they thought I had just copied from someone
else's work. Then, I would really feel flattered. But I was indeed felt "fluttering" the day I showed my first book of poems to my mother, and I saw
tears in her eyes. It was the first time that I remember touching my mother's
feelings so deeply like that. It filled my heart with so much proud and poured
my soul in pure ecstasy!
My first three poetries that I drafted with a pencil when I was seven, and that I still have the diary where I scratched on and wrote the (a) musing words down, were Rare, Innocence and Rhyme. Here I transcribe them from my memory for I still remember them by heart (as much as FROM the heart):
Rare: Little word
In a huge world.
Rare is You
The precious jewel
That is so true.
But without love
Rare has no value
Everyone gets distance
From the one with no true.
Rhyme
Run, jump, and give us a turn,
Roll and make the floor burn.
Is it the happiness from the girl?
She jumps with her hair in curls.
With her hands, and hair
In the air
Or is it the rhyme
That it is so fine
That is in the tip of her tongue,
So that she can make us a song?
Innocence
He who has innocence is loved.
He who has innocence is gay.
He, who has not, always complains.
Innocence is searched above.
Innocence is searched below.
But for the ones who lost it
There is no return to post it.
That is what they do not know."
(Excerpts from the book "Con-Fashions & Con-Fusions" by Ana Antunes)
Some Acknowledgements In English as a SL
Some Acknowledge amends in English to Xcell.
Ack-NOW-legends In English with a Spirit of Liberty:
Where was I thirty years ago?
In 1968, right in the "crux" of a revolution, there I was born in the Ana Costa Hospital. "Grazing in the Grass" by
Hugh Masekela and "I Pretend" by Des O'Connor were number one on the radios that day. And I pretended that I really intended to make part of this crazy world. At two days of living in this planet I was in a mi(^l^)ca way predestined by the stars above, brought by my mother’s arms to an apartment in the ninth floor in a building called Cineland, right at the corner of a major avenue also named Ana Costa, which translated into English will be something like Ana Coast. And I can still recall my first five years as I walked miles and miles of distance from the shore, running to the big sea(n), like a little turtle just getting out of its egg, eager to be swallowed by a huge wave from the warm and mellow waters of the Atlantic Ocean that gently bathes the Southeast coast of Brazil.
I remember very clearly that we were already in the end of a Dictator Regimen, and I saw myself obliged to sing the National Hymn, every morning at seven o’clock sharp and no excuse to be late, right at the patio of my dear American Primary School(s). We had to make a formation, touching each other's shoulders with our arms extended in a type of echelon. Wearing our uniforms in a neat way, we were armed only by our convictions that one day we would be allowed to laugh about all that. One or two giggled for stepping in each other's shoes, obliging the other to get off line to incorporate the foot back into position. Our heads and shoulders had to be maintained in a straight way. Then, an invited general from the Army with a quite often rumble and bumble speech with a full chest dissimulating a grandeur personality set a platinum disk over a Victrola which played the LP with a sharp niddle slightly touching the lines of a petroleum color. And after hearing him bloviating an hour or so, we had to sing our enormous Hymn out loud and in unison, or we were obliged to repeat it again until we got the tune. And I, who actually mimed my colleagues from my First Grade, for I forgot the second part of the Epopee, always felt like a little ant among many big irrefragable elephants.
But I also felt as if I were ensorcelled by the moments of inspiration given to me as a gift during my immemorial in-fancy time in Santos. And those are indeed the deeds and the treasures that I will keep inside my heart and soul. And my eternal gratitude for a city that gave me so much enticement beneath its ludic rays of freedom and happiness, that all make me keep on with the chorus of emotions that the enchanting shore still brings to me. And it motivates me to declare with plenty of enthusiasm and my lungs full of light air that “I am a santista, and sportiest, and an artist" to whom Santos is an ever-present praised unprecedented scenario.
Where am I going to be thirty years from now?
Probably, with the same happiness and sweetness on my eyes, with the same idealisms, perhaps a little bit wiser and just, but still with the same innocence: For life will never loose its subtle touch for those who remember their childhood with some glimpses of sublime experiences from wishful hearts. Maybe the innocence lies on each small look from a petit child who naively wishes to be happy. And the idealism inhabits the wistful thoughts of those who desirably fight and will never cease striving to bring happiness and freedom to all. It’s simple as that morning walking contemplation of a matutinal stroll by the sun in a candent candor from the beginning of summer days at the shores of a roboranting beach city in the name of all Saints.
(Check out my book "Many Lives to Love...and The Eternity to Live" with plenty of stories, one of them passed in a fructuous city called Santos) at: www.lulu.com/VirtualBookstore
"South Adagio"
"Saudade" it is a word that only exists in Portuguese.
It is from the heart, but it doesn't make it any easy.
Although it can make it a little cheesy
To rhyming Portuguese so at
Br...ease...
Please!
It could be translated just as this:
I, Miss Ana, Miss You...
You could say, "I miss you" but it is in a different tone.
It is even more intense than the sense of missing someone...
You really feel your heart full of the existence of that person
And at the same time it is empty for the lack of that one.
It is about the way I wished upon a feather,
Just when I left a piece of my heart in that letter
where I said that my love for you wouldn't ever die.
And you thought that it was just another lie...
Like a little gust of a wind blowing,
leaving the earth and saying, "Saudades"
I feel the emptiness even knowing
that I still have the remembrance of us.
"Adeus" or if you squeeze, "x-use" me, "Adios!"
Bam...Boo!!
"B:y and by, the oak tried the bamboo:
"A:h, why are you so humble?
M:oving back and forward too...
B:ending is the only move you make!"
O:nce said that, a strong wind came
O:ver the entire forest it did shake.
B:y then the wind turned into a huge hurricane,
A:fter striking into pieces half of the jungle,
M:oving the oaktree near a log of sugarcane.
B:ut after seeing that the oaktree couldn't handle
O:ver the tempest, the bamboo told the oak that remained
O:n the other side in the middle of the rumble:
'I bow and bend, but I don't break!'"
Ana Bowlova
Books and Articles based upon play-on-words, image-in-action, article-^l^-action and "divin-actions" exercises for your mind, body and soul!
All content unless otherwise noted, is © 2001-2005 by Ana Claudia Antunes. All rights are reserved. No portion of this site can be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior written permission.
Hosting by WebRing.
