Monday, November 9, 2009

Um Poema

Isto amor nao e un riso
Isto amor nao quero lembrar
Fiz tanta mal e ainda 'tou com dor
Quando a hora vaia passar?
Isto amor que nao quero
eu nao posso deixar

(Que triste rarara)

Poem "Pale Black" 2003

Pale Black

Give me back my candy
Stranger, lose what you call brave.
Those bottles at sea
A haunted prophecy
They can make me drunk just as well.
It's the smell, that changes color
So we go to Back straight, feet flat
The incoherent and resonating
they mention,
"let it rise past your knees.
Past your wrists"
so you are shackled.
Another held captive.
Another at attention.

Poem (2003)

Dear D.S. al Coda,

The aversion to the invasion
and the way I find ultraviolence...
Gone awry in its awakening
and I lie, but you blink in science
It's a tracing under going blind
chasing the going seek to find

Answer in the form of a question
engage yourself in conversation
in the quiet desperation.
it's okay to wire my eyes open

after the legends before you
like it's your(e) last place here
a state of late deception
but stricken from the records
of quiet attention.

Monday, November 2, 2009

Writing my first entry!

Dear Everyone,
This is my first blog of my "adult" life. This is my first entry of the first blog of my "adult" life. Those were the first two sentences of my first entry of the first blog of my "adult" life, and this is my third. I am writing this to keep account of my ideas, plans, essays, and whatever else I am doing now so maybe friends and family can have a better look into my life directly from me. If I leave the country on a whim again, you can read this and stay in touch with me. This obviously will be more in-depth than my Facebook. So stay tuned for a look into the life and times of KRISTINEEEEE.