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I`d link to some online places which show my short fictions, but it`s all in portuguese and I don`t feel like translating.
Instead, take some oven ready poetry:
THE JADE EMPEROR
I
I was
The jade Emperor
Commanding the legions
And the lines and patterns of the palace
And the topiary.
I was
A priviledged angle
To watch the scene of treachery
And murder.
And more,
Through the gardens and corridors,
Scented in sandalwood
In the Sunday morning,
I was
Flowers kept in the shut mouth
Of the animal which was killed by the arrow.
II
And whatever is the Sun
And whatever is it that the sky is made with
In this imperial morning?
III
The Imperial Ghost-Police
Found the bodies
Of the lovers, dried up,
Horrid eyes in despair, drinking
The last drop of poison,
Fingernails ripping the flesh
Of what passed as being love,
Born unnoticed between the preparations
For the imperial wedding party.
The relations of the outside things
With the greenish body of the jade Emperor
Gives him the measure of pain that a monarch can endure
In being a monarch of jade.
IV
Little adorned box
Covered with gems and sweet woman`s scorn.
Gold and jewels, and empty, kept
Uncomfortably
In the jade Emperor`s trachea.
By means of a troublesome expedient
The Emperor, with a smile,
Sits upright between the cushions
And tries to find the adequate position
for Pain In The Trachea.
But the light, coming from outside the castle,
With legs wide spread, cries and shoots in despair,
And hurts
And hurts again and still,
For several times in the following days
Will crush under its heels
The eyes for shedding tears.
V
The Emperor wakes up
Shapeshifts into someone important
And His face is a mask
To follow in the TV-box
The long speechs to come
And the stunned looks in the servant`s faces.
He tells with vivacity and style
The story heard from the mouth of the monster Gila,
About the colossal beetle that will devour the Earth,
Starting from the edges.
It is late in the jade palace,
And those who were born in the Century of History
Are named after extinct flowers.
VI
One day the Emperor woke up with thirst,
And His hooves drank from the rivers.
One day the Emperor woke up with hunger,
And He devoured His right hand.
VII
"It`s going to be such a beautiful day",
Thought an imperial warrior,
"But one needs to be strong and live".
There is a woman
In Mandchury
Who has sons and daughters, and a river and a house
And daguerreotypes
Showing funny family scenes.
The warrior devours the scene with his eyes, and feels dizzy.
He is taken care of by the woman,
Who says her name is "Lian".
The warrior throws away his helmet
And runs
And runs across the plains,
And turns into a horse,
Then into warrior again,
But he can`t turn into a man
He can`t become human,
So he tries to become
A typewriter, airplane pilot, comic book hero,
Panic in the main hall!!
The woman`s children grab him by his legs,
As if playing,
And they fall in the river.
Far away, the jade Emperor walks by,
Obscuring the Sun with His jade head.
VIII
It`s night,
The children sleep,
And love was made
By those who had
Love to be made
At night.
But the terrible Green Monarch
Walks by with His old mineral feet,
Waking up the swans by the pool,
And the dead cooks in the castle`s pantry.
And the noise
Will bring nightmares
To ride those
Who don`t deserve them.
The Emperor forgives them all.
What authority does he have
To inflict damage upon them?
IX
Above,
In the clouds,
Exempt of color descriptions,
Something happens
Without being noticed,
And happens
Alone in the world.
Prevailing upon God`s existence.
Because it happens and no one is accountable,
But it happens alone.
(The Parchs enter the scene
And whisper in wailing chant:
"Woe to the Emperor! Woe to the Emperor!")
X.
Educated and dressed
The Emperor`s seven sons
Draw up in a line.
In an exaggerated tragic position,
Sammael
Galla
Behemoth
Leviathan
Maskim
Moloch
And Azazel
Behead themselves mutually.
But the Emperor turns His face
From the frightful scene
That takes form in His frightful face.
ejsm 121001
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THE EGG WITHOUT TONGUE
I
Something
Slowly
Bursts.
II
The day
Injects itself as a needle
In the muscles of time.
The tongue
It`s a cavernous body.
It`s a piston.
III
The egg without tongue
In the vestibule of things.
Has eyes that demand retins,
Soon.
IV
Weight kisses itself,
Blossoms
In soft layers,
Onward, hanging.
(Gravity gapes).
V
Egg and spore
Slowly
Placenta.
Something swims
Slowly to the beach.
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