While most of you are eager to enjoy the blooming onset of spring, down here in the Brazilian coastline…
The heat of day
Is cooking me alive
Sedating my mood
And tanning my thoughts
While they melt in an oven
With dripping vowels
On crispy rimes
The clock’s in
Slow-motion
A lack of emotion
When time decides
To take a nap
Beneath the shades
Of compact steam
There’s a sticky atmosphere
Where I long to disappear
As summer takes its toll
In making me feel tired
Sleepy and worn out
Fatigued below
A leaching sun
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4 comments:
having lived most of my adult life in south florida, i can commiserate... funny tho... if you ever move away,, even to a more temperate climate,, the heat will always be home...
this was lovely... it made me home sick....
Caro Gilson,
Ser "pintor" às vezes dói!!!
Publique mais os seus trabalhos de pintura. Gostei muito do auto-retrato.
Pernambuco tem excelentes artistas!
Vamos em frente.
Grande abraço
Hi Gilson! This sizzles beautifully! I could totally feel the heat and remember times when I've felt sun that hot -- I love the heat, but if it's humid, it really zaps my energy. This is an awesome poem -- and I love how even "time decides to take a nap"! And the image of thoughts being tanned and "melting with dripping vowels on cripsy rimes" is really genius! A fun poem to read out loud, too. I awarded you with a "Best Blogging Buddies Award For Global Communities" -- see my March 2 post for details!
:)
Hi Paisley! Thanks for the comment. Florida is such a beautiful state, I see what you mean!
Olá Zé! Tenho muito entusiasmo de pintar, e entendo a riqueza da atividade. Lamento que não aja mais espaço para a propagação dessa arte, mas devemos ao menos tentar. Grande abraço!
Thank you very much, Clare! For your words and the award! I’ll post it up here soon. You have arms to hug the world, Clare! I really admire you for that; it’s a true gift you have. Thanks again, hugs!
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