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Book cover image for In Times of Hate Talking about Love is Something Revolutionary
In Times of Hate Talking about Love is Something Revolutionary
Chapter 1 of 1
Profile avatar image for EricCostaeSilva
EricCostaeSilva

Walking in the essence

1 - Poets

By Eric Costa e Silva

The poets are left with intense wings

In the eternal dream the world of words

Always dynamic in the eyes of all.

They fit the daily sweats

Where your roses fill the voids

Of the most variable itinerant human vicissitudes

They! Fine common souls

All worthy of the art in feeling on the skin.

Poets are builders

From their poetry emanates realities

Whether they are real or abstract

Ah! You’re with your smells.

Always touch the diversities

Of the thousand and one immaculate senses.

The poet points poem poetry

And they... Poets, ah! Poets

From one side of the horizon to the other

In the deep waters of perception they always navigate.

Each drop of letter on paper

The firm temp (l) ideals form columns

Behind them the simple beings of heart

There they form houses.

Poets never die

Just go on trips beyond bodies

On this day they just stop conceiving the leaves.

Even traveling into the unknown

Poets still move lives and spaces

Through his work

Always quiet on the shelf

Waiting for someone to flip through.

In every leaf of your creativity

In our eyes, we can feel a new season

In every corner of the mind

A way to perceive the World

Poets... All the poets... Who one day understands them

They never fail to visit them.

2- The poetry

A poem poem what is in your soul

A single word as you enter your day

It may be the incentive he needs

To navigate the feelings about poetry.

Poetry walks by the boats

In the light of the lighthouse, in the mountains

At the bus stop of simple people

She's even in the school's instructions.

To bring forth a poetry

In his daily life the poet navigates

To perceive the whole world

Who walks by your steps.

Poetizing is living in bonds of a time

To observe without forgetting to live the life we must

Who observes lives the life with more sense

To observe is an experimental living.

Poetry that leads to ecstasy

One day you were alone.

Under the mantle of the poet's soul.

When the birds in the corner say

Sweet word does not tell me

Just wait for the purity of the path

Let the words look at each other again.

A poem poem what is in your soul

He knows how to read the parts

Which show traces of your happiness today.

Do not tell me? Yes, I say.

Yesterday's words

Now it's true

Thank you, be happy.