Poems by TERESINKA PEREIRA

Poems by TERESINKA PEREIRA




VALENTINE'S DAY

In a little place
of the Universe,
an Angel invented
LOVE.
Since then we took it
to the HEART.
Time goes by
and in the infinite
feeling of our dreams
we keep this miracle
of peace and courage
which makes us desire
life, wellness and love.



THANKS
    To YOU


for not becoming
a machine.
Worse than not replying
to the e-mails,
is to send
an automatic answer.




SUPER-EGO VIRTUAL
       
Texting, we change worlds.
Sideways we go from a third world
to a first potency leader
with fingers on the keyboard.
We write text with live dreams
unraveling though a silent past
poor in history and speeches.
Each Ipad screen presents
a superman with sweet love messages
which gives the woman reader
the intuition of his emotional loneliness
It is a profanation of the daily reality
because the texts are endless,
Facebook is a market
of political ambitions and
home-made inventions.
I still can hide a nocturnal secret
which I keep between my fingers
or maybe at the corner of the screen
in order to save my virtual super-ego
from stranger internet blogs.

**************




HERE AND NOW

     To talk or to write
      it is all a prodigious example
      of to be in action, here and now.
                 
                         Floreal Rodriguez de la Paz

Without ceremony
we grab the words
from the paper
or from the screen
and there go the dreams
dropping
from dark moments
to satiation of the present
moment.
The vertigo overcomes time
and memory will pardon
all sins.





CHARLES BUKOWSKI


        "Cant't they see through my skin,
         can't they see that I am nothing?

                       Bukowski

In spite of everything
Bukwoski was quiet,
not domesticated, but hurt,
insanely discontent with life.
He was part of the Universal Kingdom,
but was refused like a mistake
in the world's conscience.
Nevertheless, even drunk, he was awake
with his dismembered mind
with its deepest feelings of contempt
for everything.
He was a poet of the Cosmos
lost in our little World.

* Heinrich Karl Bukowski,
Germany 1920 - Los Angeles, USA, 1994.

******************



CHARLES BUKOWSKI


" Munden ata të shikojnë përmes lëkurës sime,
munden ata të shikojnë që nuk jam asgjë? "


Pavarësisht gjithçkaje,
Bukowski ishte i qetë,
i pazbutur, por i lënduar,
jashtëzakonisht i pakënaqur me jetën.
Ai ishte pjesë e Mbretërisë së Bashkuar,
por ishte refuzuar si një gabim,
në ndërgjegjjen e botës.
Megjithatë, edhe i pirë, ai ishte zgjuar,
me mendjen e tij të gjymtuar,
me ndjenjat e veta më të thella të përbuzjes
për gjithçka.
Ai ishte një poet i kozmosit,
humbur në botën tonë të vogël.


*Heinrich Karl Bukowski,

Gjermani 1920 - Los Anxhelos, SHBA, 1994.