I have been walking world’s corners

and have kept in touch with all of us.

You who always helped me and became my friend,

but there were those who did not understand me,

did not like me, became enemies, opponents.

Among my friends, some gave me much more,

like their entire being, becoming an angel,

protector, guide, even a true lover.

There were those who corrected me, and,

like a father, gave me some understanding

that I lacked.

I intend to consider everyone as a brother,

in this great group that brings together

our entire human race.

A race that has been marked from birth with a sign,

that everyone is responsible for all of their equals.

It is a mark that many of us prefer to forget,

not applying it in our daily lives,

what could differentiate ourselves   

from all other living beings.

This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ©

The atmosphere that my spirit breathes,

which provides its sustenance, is so different

than those ones I see, or rather, I feel,      

when I leave my confinement, going out   

to live with my peers.

Mine has been conceived and woven 

since my tender years by my ancestors,

dear unique parents and grandparents.

I have sought to perfect its strength and

quality, as I go, daily, through a destiny   

traced only for me and from which  

I must not, nor do I intend, to deviate.  

It is a spirit that has grown not only

in its happy days, but also perfected

in some dark and strange adversities.

Nowadays, has learned the hard way

to be quite impenetrable to the eyes

of malice and evil.

Has been always grateful, year after year,

to the Greatest Spirit, our Common Creator.     

This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ©

On the way to my house there is a Funeral Home.

Very well positioned, at night it turns on its lights,

and if you come in, will be well received, served with

hot coffee, donuts and very good a conversation.

It is most recently opened in my neighborhood,

and is struggling to compete with another one,

older and more traditional.

Its funeral candles are longer

and long-lasting, made 100% paraffin,

high lighting power; its makeup artist,

graduated in Facial and Body Aesthetics.

I am sure they are captivating and pleasing me,

so, every time we reach such a fatal outcome,       

they can count my family as one faithful client.

Then, we do not have to consult yellow pages,

when sad and ghastly hour knocks on our door.

I do not blame them, it is part of their business,

their livelihood.    

I am returning home by the other hand,

thus, avoiding the view of their store.

But I do not shy away from wishing them

a happy business life, humans and accomplices

on the common destiny to which we are all chained.

This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ©

On the day I die,

or on subsequent days,

whatever will be the new world

to which I will be sent,

I will never stop missing this one,

where for so many years I lived.

Forever I will remember these happy days,

friends, lovers, sincere smiles and kind words,  

born of honest coexistence with my fellow ones.

I will be sure the body that will remain here,

defeated by time and its ills, surely had carried  

a strong spirit with which had been born,

such spirit will last forever and ever.  

I will learn to discard, what will give me even

a certain pleasure, those dark moments left by

unconscious brothers, misfits in their generation,  

who gave me anything and added up to nothing.    

The good memories I will carry far outweigh

the disappointments and displeasures I faced;

these latter, perhaps, to some extent, fruit  

of too much believe, too little misdoubt.

This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ©

Mornings and afternoons, centuries and seasons,

they are always blowing the dust which settles

in my body, daily corrupting and weakening it.

Age weighs heavily, muscles become thinner,

thoughts flow slowly, hair thins and turns white,

I cannot hide or camouflage the marks  

of the passing years.    

But my spirit has been kept deep inside my soul,

and, quite the contrary, it strengthens, does not

break down, it rejuvenates and rises up.

And so, I am coming to the end of my times,

perhaps I can still represent a little 

of our long-suffering and beloved human race.

The one that fights and does not give up on continuing

to write their history of difficult struggles,

many setbacks, few but valuable achievements

and victories, what serve as an example

and encouragement to those who will come.

This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ©

Day is done, has finished its performance.

Stilly slides, hides its face from our world.

Has given us a time to be, weave our cloths.

Still carries some untold words and feelings

some of us had not been able to demonstrate.

This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ©

On Rest from Work, also Siesta, Oil on canvas by Van Gogh, Jan 1890.

This consensual embrace, shown without hesitation to all of us

and to whole world,

has bequeathed us the dexterity and mastery of the consecrated

Dutch painter, what crowns all his works.

We see clearly that the characters are in communion

not only with themselves, but with everything around,

also with our Supreme Creator.

Their subtlety and affection, feelings

which cannot, or rather, so difficult are to simulate,

show that, in real life, after their rest,

they will not be able another face than warmth and love.    

We see a natural and deserved rest, after hard toil,

proven by the bundles of grass they cut

and give them shade.  

Dressed in blue, in combination with the sky covering them,

they just give us the certainty that, upon awakening,

will have strength and encouragement to continue

the work they are dedicated to.

It also shows the strength and talent of the painter,

who produced this work whist in a treatment,

perhaps the last,

in one of the many hospitals of his life.

This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ©

All the troubles I went through,

the bumps and collisions I faced,

the occasional, the unintended,

also, those I myself caused

by my own will.

All friendship I made and enjoyed,

that made lighter the burden of life,

all smiles, well remembered good times.  

Also, there were those whom once I thought friends,

and, in bitter, crucial and doubtful hour,

who dodged and joined enemies,

unfortunately, always on duty.

Love I gallantly declared,

and have been reciprocated,

passions I am proud of, which lit up my face,

body, soul and my entire being.

Likewise, there were affections

and desires of mine, left unrequited

or unwelcome, perhaps misunderstood.

For those, I leave no grudge or hurt,

susceptible they can be due to how extreme

our human diversity is.

As Tolstoy writes in Anna Karenina, “if there are

as many heads as there are ways of thinking,  

there are as many types of love as there are hearts”.

I have been going through and over this labyrinth,

and, today, I reach maturity in body and soul.

I leave behind affections and disaffections,

chants and disenchantments, all of this watered

by laughter and crying, sweat and tears.

 

This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ©

Maybe because I prefer to be his pupil forever,

sometimes I don’t find myself having thoughts of my own

nor do I adventure to live in a new world,

different of this one you have always given us.

This is a world that enchants and leaves us comfortable,

and, with exceptions we always deplore,  

once we follow what we were taught,

we have had happy times,

bright dawns and superb afternoons.

Not that we are tired, dissatisfied or incredulous,

with the roadmap you have given us since long ago.  

Would it be ill-advised to ask you to touch the hearts

and minds of some of our fellow ones, those adverse

to the good coexistence and human fraternity?

Those who seem to take pleasure in transgressing

and circumventing the laws you and we have enacted?

You know they are always postponing and making unfeasible

the path we have tried to follow, which will lead us, one day,

to the land you promised, where flow abundantly honey

and milk, and evil never finds shelter.

This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ©

Sharing with friends my poem “Stumbles, Ambushes, and Spells”, today published in the November 2023 issue of the Literary Review 7THCircle Pyrite. Many thanks to the dear editor Keiraj M. Gilles. https://www.7thcirclepyrite.com/post/stumbles-ambushes-and-spells