Paths to Follow
I know I am heading towards the unknown,
but, as my equals,
we have no choice.
We must to accept the fact that this world,
just like the destiny mapped out for our lives,
have been made independently of our will,
our desire, much less of supposed intelligence
should we even have had.
The successes we have achieved on the challenges
throughout our time, have been at a much high level
to our strengths and talents, and, in fact,
we do not know as we have managed to go so far.
In this present time, when we look back, we witness
how hard and painful the journey has been.
Also, we see the immensity of what remains to be accomplished,
for the will and desire we propose continues to challenge us,
and we must to prove, yet and already, with so great a delay,
that we did not just come for pleasure.
We have to carry out the project always dreamed of
by brothers with upright, loving and fraternal hearts,
of that promised land, where flows abundant milk
and honey, and from where evil will be expelled,
defeated, ashamed and humiliated, banished
forever from human society.
This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ©
Some Truths on the Human’s Pack
Sailing in an unknown Sargasso Sea,
this incredible homeland our remote Creator
granted us as territory;
living with animals that preceded us,
created they were on the fifth day of creation,
and which, older, should have upon us,
due and clear precedence in coexistence;
facing secrets that are hidden from us,
that we still have not been able to decipher,
in everyday life with the territory, as well as
in group life with our peers;
thus, obliged to accept and assume respect,
along with sometimes also forgiveness,
by the differences that always permeate,
and that, in fact, often complete us, making even,
singularly, some human and peculiar a greatness.
This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ©
Marked by a Sign
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 had need of.
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 their daily lives,
what could differentiate ourselves
from all other living beings.
This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ©
On Speaking of Spirits
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 ©
Weird Complicity
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 ©
Closing a Life
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 ©
History that follows
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 ©
Taken Away
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 ©
Souls in Communion
“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 ability 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 ©
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