no public reasons blog

why don't i do

2019-09-10T07:26:00.001-07:00

why do i do exist?

why don't i do die?

my life i live a little sick

and sick looks me all mankind

but my sickness is my craziness

or my craziness is my trail

it sounds like my god bless

it's on my mind, into my nails

what am i going...

2015-10-08T14:29:00.000-07:00

and tomorrow,
what's gonna be me?
what am i going to do?

i'd like to think it was not me,
it was nothing i do.

i'd like to be definitively crazy,
crowded,
and may-be dead.

poem to my death

2014-08-31T09:32:00.001-07:00

oh, yes, have you come?

what good you’re not late

let me touch your clothes

the mine, let I give you them

wear me with your mantle now

hold me for all my life

this world within or out

makes me hurts and cries

this conscientious I have

i do so many bizarre things

makes the pain hurts my head

and we die as we’re living

so, come, darkness

once for all blind my eyes

my soul is a tempestive mess

that blows for my dying

come, darkness

put my face on the ground

take me to the destiny’s rest

which for all is here around

you seeing my laughter

2014-08-31T08:18:00.001-07:00

you seeing my laughter

don’t see

in the shade of my eyes

the thorns

paining

don’t see

when i touch the dark

and the cold soaks

my soul

you seeing my bright

don’t see

my insanity inside

my emptiness

you just see my laughter and delight

my light and some surprise

but what is worse

the falling down of afterglows

the ruminating on the heart

the biting me on my bones, at night, when inside I don’t sleep

the silence i show me to you with

you don’t see

you see my laughter and my smile and just

and ‘cause it you cannot judge me!

andré boniatti

Future citizen's poem

2014-08-04T20:12:00.000-07:00

(Free translation of the poem "Poema do futuro cidadão", by José Craveirinha)

I"ve come from anywhere

from a Nation that’s still not alive.

I"ve come and I’m here!

I wasn’t born just me

nor you nor other…

but brother.

But

I have mountains of love to give.

Love from what I am

and nothing more.

And

I have in my heart

screams that are not just mine

‘cause I"ve come from a Country that’s still not alive.

Oh! I have my Love to everybody to give

from what I am.

Any man

citizen from a Nation that’s still not alive.

After I’ve lost the fear

2014-06-11T10:25:00.000-07:00

After I’ve lost the fear of others: of what others think; what others say; to make different; wanting different; dreaming farther away dreams; going beyond the usual; loving with love, not with shame...

When I"ve learned that being human implies to exist, and not only accompany parents as a child; and the church until the chrism; and society, as it’s taught; and the textbook, without questioning; and the TV’s Journal, believing that there is any truth in it...

When I realized that nothing else matters, but worth what the heart tells; worth what nature says; worth what I am, and not what is expected from me; I have nothing to do with hell...

After that I became myself, just then I was born in truth, I became someone, someone living - and not an undead stupidly walking the streets with an imbecile car, with the dream of the other ones, with visor and the put bridle to always look blind and be forever a resentful man...

Inscribe on my tomb:

HERE LIES A CRAZY MAN, WHO WILL — ‘CAUSE HE’S CRAZY — NEVER DIE: ‘CAUSE HIS SOUL IS CONDEMNED TO FOREVER THRILL, mad, FLY AWAY AND AROUND! INFINITELY CONDEMNED TO BE HAPPY!

2014-05-20T14:19:00.002-07:00

no, no present continuous, there isn’t.
neither the past, and the future, yesterday, no tomorrow.
there isn’t either the time
divisible.

no, it’s just the simple present, absolutely.
simple present beyond everything,
from the universe
to god!

or maybe neither 'this' instant.
maybe not just anything.

for us, just we have to shake hands
and walk crazily thrown with the life! life!

2013-04-29T15:29:00.002-07:00

DOCTORS OR TELL EVERYTHING YOU DON’T KNOW

a little song, written when teenager

Doctor I’m telling that it hurts
Something goes wrong inside
Maybe you can believe me
I’m walking in a fallen heaven

Don’t you think it’s weak?
No medicine can work
The darkest days are coming
You need a proof I don’t

Shit! I’m telling that it pain
Something goes wrong outside
Walking under the rain
It’s impossible don’t wet myself

Doc I’m feeling so cold
Have I ever been the same?
Cloud clouds my brain
I want it to show I can’t

Doctor so silly I was
It will never hurt anymore
My ghost will impressive you
When I am outside

Shit! I know I weaken
Neither everything is refreshed
Hey I need a gun
To end all night all right

Tell everything you don’t know!
Tell everything you don’t know!

andré boniatti

in:http://www.recantodasletras.com.br/letras/174764

pray among the men

2013-01-14T15:22:00.001-08:00

by andré boniatti

when the prostitute passes by, oh Lord,

that i don’t turn down my eyes.

the colour don’t be to me a detail, neither from the eyes, either from the skin.

that everybody has equal cheeks and better hearts

for me, oh Lord.

that they be tall the same meters i am,

in every meters i am.

that when i think what i see is absurd or ridiculous or strange or spurious,

that i know that i’m seeing, that it’s just my eyes,

— what stupids, my eyes that invent obstacles to look at.

they look at suspicious and distrustful,

stupids!

that someday my eyes can see with love, — when the prostitute passes by

and everyone, oh Lord!

that someday we can think the way we are,

in freedom. that someday we can make the way

we make, that we have wisdom.

that someday we can be true, since the birth. reasonable.

but, before it, we learn something.

that we understand the conjugation of “we” in the silence of us.

(that before we judge us christian we can understand jesus: plebeian of nazareth,

philosopher and poet, singer of

inteligence and heart,

that never had left one for another: inteligence and heart.

how fool are the men, my heaven’s jesus!)

how fool are the men: in the pea of themselves ego concentrated (introspectively) — hurting all around; as if all their world was a

perfect nucleous of pride and arrogance!

but, after all, they’re nothing.

after all, they’re equal one another, one to the other,

and to everything,

one thing to the world just more.

and, even thus: “more”, they don’t add; dyslexics and retracteds:

the men go nowhere!

when the prostitute passes by, oh Lord,

we can see the out of us, we don’t mask

ourselves seeing.

that our soul understand that it’s just silly matter, shape in the wind: your body, your creed, your fit and the mine,

that green from the heart inside and starts to live in this time, that passes,

(this space, that blows);

that be more soft my body, your body,

‘cause they don’t be sunk;

(when the love opens my heart. when the love opens my heart. when the love opens my heart.)

that i be all entirely within,

without, right — when the sundown of my life starts.

that i have no doubt about my integrity;

that my cry be for guilty,

chancre,

bald silver-head intrepid emotion,

but that i don’t be killed before i will. that i can cry!

that i don’t sleep without feeling me (absolutely)

wasted out. all on me,

when the time

goes down. when the bright of my soul is rightly to fall.

and then — good bye!

but that i be armed,

reverentially armed, light, far and flighty,

with no disagree;

when the non-prophecy be real,

when the rest

exceed.

when me, my grandma, my mother, my love...

— when the prostitute passes by,

oh Lord!

in: http://www.recantodasletras.com.br/oracoes/4001217

it's yours

2012-10-09T15:18:00.003-07:00

i reserve t'you this blank.
even it has no
name,
it's
yours,

- i reserve it t'you since my latter days.

in: http://www.recantodasletras.com.br/homenagens/2356281

into our heart

2012-10-09T14:47:00.003-07:00

there is a song, but it's still far away from our tongue...
this is still buried into our heart!

2012-02-19T11:18:00.000-08:00

incorporation
by andré boniatti

who eyes are they on the mirror?,
am i who's seeing they really or are they someone who's seeing me from me?

in: http://www.recantodasletras.com.br/pensamentos/195847

2012-02-11T09:59:00.000-08:00

my heart
     by andré boniatti

my heart
is light and dark

darkness darkness darkness dark
darkly
     swarthy
          contemptibly
               sad
                    unlead
doorjamb beaten
unbeaten in it
'n' off it knob
     that circles
locking
     that circles
key door
     that circles

my heart

axis
     that circles
the world

in: http://poiesisboniatti.hd1.com.br/poesia/poiesis_poesia4.htm

and in: http://www.recantodasletras.com.br/poesias/175294

2012-02-11T09:29:00.000-08:00

the kiss
by andré boniatti

my lips kiss your lips
and from our lips is drawn a third mouth,
that softly mingle with our bodies.

immune to any results,
we're used to call it
death,
notwithstanding it's fed with our desire.

in: http://poiesisboniatti.hd1.com.br/poesia/poiesis_poesia.htm

and in: http://www.recantodasletras.com.br/poesiasdeamor/159512

2012-02-09T12:50:00.000-08:00

the spirit
by andré boniatti

don't know what things you hide
under your hair maybe i not wanna know
your soul is behind your clothes
not within your hat

in: http://poiesisboniatti.hd1.com.br/liturgia/poiesis_pensamento5.htm

and in: http://www.recantodasletras.com.br/pensamentos/174106

2012-01-29T16:35:00.000-08:00

confused loving ballad
by andré boniatti

i love you somuch
loving not you
that i, loving
i don't want you

neither dream of you
when i think of you
under coldness
on my pillow

and like this, lonely

i love you somuch
loving not you
that i sleep
there into your arms

in: http://poiesisboniatti.hd1.com.br/poesia/poiesis_poesia2.htm

and in: http://www.recantodasletras.com.br/poesiasdeamor/170410

2012-01-29T15:00:00.000-08:00

blue flowers poetry
     by andré boniatti

i don't know what flowers
(which are dying tomorrow)
they put on the sidewalk
     languished.

i don't know what lilies
(that were not lilies!).

i don't know what grin, - that were from parget,

from ice,
     inviolably
frozen.

i don't know if rotten
that were
     or were broken.

but hurted - my brain and my eyes 'bout these flowers,
(i don't know what flowers!),

in plaster,
almost to sleep.

in: http://poiesisboniatti.hd1.com.br/poesia/poiesis_poesia44.htm

and in: http://www.recantodasletras.com.br/poesiasdetristeza/3216936

2012-01-13T06:00:00.000-08:00

comparison
by andré boniatti

for me, it's so common the existing differences
that I never value things according to their differences,
but according to their equalities.

in: http://olivrodaspretensoes.blogspot.com/2010/11/comparacao.html

and in: http://www.recantodasletras.com.br/frases/2642032

2012-01-13T05:41:00.000-08:00

     understand:
     by andré boniatti

your neighbor isn’t more than your brother.
that one for whom
you die
   and who you pardon. understand:
     your life isn’t more than
the day you pass white,
or understanding
   something new,
or loving.
     something on the beach
     or living our lives on the wind
or watching a movie,
your life
isn’t more than the
song

   that anybody won’t know to play.

never.

     understand: as your neighbor, someday, finally,
will (he too) now understand.

in: http://perse.doneit.com.br/paginas/DetalhesLivro.aspx?ItemID=669

2012-01-09T14:12:00.000-08:00

don’t bother me please
by andré boniatti

i wouldn’t judge anybody.
the people are good and bad,
are sad and happy,
but I don’t know ‘bout their reasons.

sometimes i’m bad too.
but between the badness and the goodness
there is always the reality,
and sometimes it is cruel,
and sometimes it’s
sadistic.

i judging a man deaf ‘cause he doesn't have ears
as if i was judging the surface without knowing the depth.
if i had any truth, if i was christian mussulman
atheist,
i would judge some mistake in the other ones,
i would want to save their souls or lose them…

but i have no religion or moral,
neither political thoughts,
i like to be alienated and love the other ones as they are,
with the past they tell me and the thoughts they’re used to live with,

if i admit any pray
it’s we could give our hands.
‘cause the hands can build or
can ruin,

but if hand in hand we’re hugged
we will always to entwine,

like a daisy chain as could say our common imagination.

judging somebody ‘cause he or she is different of us
it would be like we could judge the water bad ‘cause it’s not fire,
the wind good ‘cause it’s not earth.

but the wind ups the dust,
but the fire's extinguished by the water.

i don’t judge neither a killer.
i don’t know ‘bout his reasons.

i don’t judge either me.
i don’t know who i am,
what i’ll do tomorrow.

god could judge me,
but god, when he said: "let there be",
he didn’t judge that were bad his creation,
and could i be the one to say that is good or bad what
god created?

i not.
i prefer loving it.

each one is just oneself.
and everybody is a little crazy.
so you can judge as you’re used to,
but ‘bout me:
don’t bother me please!

in: http://www.recantodasletras.com.br/pensamentos/209728