30 de março de 2009


A baby there is in London
-She's called Babylondon!
And while walking down the street,
In every tongue that she speaks
always the same repetitive tune:
Welcome to London,
Have fun and excuse me.

She's on the cameras and the screens.
So many eyes're looking for her
That's easy seeing where she's not
Her bealtiful face and wicked smile.

She's one and many
And rather say fuck off,
Burn all the towers
and take a piss on the Queen,
Than bend over and disapear.


Se começo um poema
E me faltam versos,
Sobram muitos rabiscos.

Os versos por ela
Procuro em vão.
Levou consigo os versos,
Minha inspiração.

Os rabiscos na página
São com as memórias
Esquecidas por ela
Sobre o colchão.

Wants me

Wants me
Wants me not.

The petals fill the pot
As there are seconds in a clock.

Wants me
Wants me not.

If she don't come and knock
All my garden might rot.

Wants me
Wants me not.

I wait for her snog
As a prince or as a frog?

Wants me
Wants me not.

Question of rock
Is gentle havoc.

Wants me
Wants me not.

Was your shock
as mine or mock?

Wants me
Wants me not.

Unfold the plot,
Destiny. I have already
Seached a lot.

Wants me
Wants me not.

She might be a dock.
So in my mouth
Her name I lock.


Candles are litten.
Our souls beaten
lying on the bed.
All bedroom is red!
Burning sunset:
Is the red carpet
For my Venus star
Seen from afar.
Crowning her hair
All that's fair:
Red golden leaves
Wise believes.
Red is the morning
Of my night's longing.

19 de março de 2009

Ratos di Versos


Ratos de versos
Lembram um ritmo
Na viela das carmelitas
E bêbados e putas
E travestis trabalhando.

O ritmo,
Meio esquecido
Em tantas batidas,
Tantos batuques;
Fica um sabor de seio.