segunda-feira, 30 de março de 2015

Beaten path

A beaten path -
That's what she is.
In her world, the roads don't lead to Rome...
They lead to her.
That's for sure...

Her dog moving toward her jogging tells her so.
Her kids googling her during awkward moments tells her so.
His hands chasing her without warning in the middle of the night tells her so.

Will that ever come to an end?
Will it?

And when it finally stops, 
will she miss being the beaten path?
When she finally lives by the sea -
where the cold waves lick her legs,
when she drowns herself in the salty water -
will it be good?
Or will it be a warning of another assault -
keep on being a beaten path,  just in a different way.

Would the end finally be coming?
There has been no warning.
No signs have been there before.
Not to her.
She has always been so busy walking. 
Making their path more enjoyable and pleasant.
She has been so busy thinking about them.

She didn't read all the new wrinkles as some suspicious attack.
Some obvious sign of life getting too tired to walk with her.
Her path was not a beaten one anymore...

Will death ever come to an end?
Will that solitude be her ending?
Or will she keep on coming on every other beaten path,
on any another path they will ever take?

Will she transform herself on a sandy beach?
Sun and glory,
water and sadness.

Will the sound of the silence ever be less suspicious than that madness of loud voices?
Will there ever be some peace?

Will she finally pay that bill?
Will she give them that huge amount of money that would take all that misery away?
Away from her.
All those begging hands...

Will she ever fly away?
Will she?

She will be no more beaten path...

Naiana Carapeba

quarta-feira, 18 de março de 2015

Rainha de Copas

A Rainha de Copas paira magnânima sobre seus súditos.
Controla suas vidas.
Seus suspiros.
Suas insignificâncias...

A Rainha de Copas paira sobre todas as vontades.
Faz-se única.

A Rainha de Copas amargura-se com pequenas contrariedades.
E, sombria, brande sua espada.
Irracional, faz rolar cabeças.
Insatisfeita, espreme os corações que lhe ofertam...

Dos seus súditos espera respeito.
E medo...

A Rainha de Copas, 
embora tão respeitada,
conquanto tão adorada,
nada obstante tão idolatrada,
apesar de tão temida...
... vai morrer só.

Naiana Carapeba
(18 de março de 2015)

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