Páginas

quarta-feira, 30 de junho de 2010



                                                                           CALEIDOSCÓPIO


                                                                       trêmula
                                                                       é a onda
                                                                       que doma o mar e a lua
                                        
                                                                       tão dócil
                                                                       essa onda
                                                                       que sepulta
                                                                       vida e verme

                                                                       lépica
                                                                       essa onda
                                                                       que me esconde
                                                                       e rouba
                                                                       meus espantos
                                                                       e some.
                                                                  
                                                                                        Cgurgel
                                                                    
          


                                                                               PERCURSO


                                                                               por pouco
                                                                               quase nada
                                                                               passei do ponto espaço

                                                                               pulei
                                                                               para o outro lado da horda
                                                                               assim como uma corrente
                                                                               contínua
                                                                      
                                                                               hoje
                                                                               sei que nem sou
                                                                               procuro só
                                                                               pelo que passou.

                                                                                                          Cgurgel
                                                                                        
          


                                                                            ABORIGENE


                                                                       eu não sou pedra
                                                                       sou carne e osso

                                                                       e tudo
                                                                       que flutua e ouço.

                                                                                         Cgurgel

terça-feira, 29 de junho de 2010



                                                                      PERISCÓPIO


                                                              liga-me
                                                              ao teu olhar
                                                              como uma lua
                                                              que flutua
                                                              entre a brisa
                                                              e o mar.

                                                                                         Cgurgel

segunda-feira, 28 de junho de 2010

                                

                                                                      DEMIURGO


                                                             passo o tempo
                                                             como se fora
                                                             alma

                                                             vagando
                                                             por sobre pontes
                                                             e escândalos

                                                             meu abrigo
                                                             é segredo

                                                             e o que me faz seguir adiante
                                                             é a certeza
                                                             de que um dia
                                                             acharei o que procuro.

                                                                                          Cgurgel

domingo, 27 de junho de 2010



                                                                  PLATAFORMA


                                                              sou de uma cidade distante
                                                              que armazena avenidas e charcos

                                                              uma águia sanguinária
                                                              que esconde estações e sacrifícios

                                                              vestida do vento
                                                              como ventríloquo
                                                              de pedaços de mim

                                                              uma légua que sobrevoa
                                                              o sinal dos tempos

                                                             que cantarola ítens
                                                             como anunciação de pecados
                                                                                             e tormentas

                                                             uma cidade tão distante
                                                             como um hino de quem partiu
                                                             para sempre

                                                             e o seu sono
                                                             por ser tão profundo
                                                             aproxima abismos e séculos.

                                                                                            Cgurgel


                           

sábado, 26 de junho de 2010



                                                                     POUCO DEMAIS


                                                                   procuro por uma névoa
                                                                   líquida e fugaz
                                                                   aquela
                                                                   que me liga
                                                                   ao mar das cores
                                                                   e das lamparinas noturnas

                                                                   uma névoa tão nova
                                                                   que move histórias e
                                                                                            esquecimentos

                                                                   que me livra de dilúvios
                                                                                   e inúmeros
                                                                                         pressentimentos
                                                                   como um rápido farol
                                                                                    de uma longínqua praia

                                                                    procuro por uma névoa
                                                                    como uma enorme língua
                                                                    que doma paixões e noites
                                                                    amêndoas e síncopes epidêmicas

                                                                    procuro pela névoa
                                                                    que revela com sua face
                                                                    a alma de quem sempre pede
                                                                    um pouco mais de paz.

                                                                                                Cgurgel

                                                                             
                       

                                                             

                                                                  NEBLINA


                                                                  amanhece
                                                                  e como o vôo de um pássaro
                                                                  que pousa
                                                                  silencio
                                                                  o que o vento
                                                                  e os seus pertences
                                                                  me declaram

                                                                  assim
                                                                  por entre a neblina e o tempo
                                                                  sou
                                                                  a sombra do que a noite me chama.

                                                                                                      Cgurgel


                                                                     SONHO


                                                                     recolher
                                                                     por entre janelas e sonos
                                                                     a fortaleza
                                                                     que
                                                                     acorda
                                                                     folhas e quintais.

                                                                                            Cgurgel

                                                                   


                                                                     PROVÍNCIA


                                                                      perco
                                                                      diariamente
                                                                      a vontade
                                                                      de descobrir
                                                                      mapas e máscaras

                                                                     o que ainda resiste
                                                                     é o sono tão profundo
                                                                     e audaz.

                                                                                               Cgurgel


                                                                  TRAMPOLIM


                                                              trago no olho
                                                              o veneno
                                                              do que a vida me deu

                                                              perto
                                                              assim bem perto
                                                              estão todos os portos
                                                              por onde singrei
                                                              olhares
                                                              despidos de ilusões e ausências.

                                                                                                  Cgurgel


                                                                            
                                                                           TÃO


                                                          pouco
                                                          tão pouco
                                                          mínimo grão

                                                          nada
                                                          tão nada
                                                          ínfimo chão

                                                          norte
                                                          tão norte
                                                          sísmico tão.

                                                                            Cgurgel
                                                         


                                                       CONTEMPORÂNEO


                                                                não sei mais
                                                                onde vou

                                                               já não acordo
                                                                        de mim

                                                               tanto faz
                                                                  ver
                                                                   ou
                                                               ouvir

                                                              pouco me
                                                                         lembro
                                                                de nada

                                                              assim
                                                                esqueço
                                                                        de mim

                                                              e do que
                                                              um dia
                                                                     valia.

                                                                        Cgurgel
                           


                                                                     TRILHA


                                                         sei
                                                         simplesmente o que sou

                                                         como uma sombra
                                                         que desce pelo meu corpo

                                                         justo
                                                         cravejado de silêncios
                                                         e da pele que desce
                                                         pelos meus pés.

                                                                             Cgurgel


                                                                  LEMBRANÇA

                                                              salve a vida
                                                              como tira gosto e torresmo
                                                              como a chuva grávida
                                                              de novidades e enfermos

                                                              salve a vida
                                                              como se fosse a rua
                                                              por onde voce
                                                              nunca passou

                                                              salve tudo da e na vida
                                                              como a boa hora de se saber
                                                              de coisas esquecidas
                                                                                e fraticidas
      
                                                              salve a sua vida
                                                              como se fosse cúmplice
                                                              de cupins
                                                               e do seu próprio lixo.

                                                                                   Cgurgel