L.F. dos Santos

Distracted Thoughts


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welled up surprisingly

      to bright this mystical place.

      Every night in the same field,

      where hope and dreams

      were formerly forged.

      They enter the cave

      wearing the spirit

      of a resplendent woman

      performing an unusual ritual.

      Shimmering energies,

      portraying memories

      dancing freely bare-foot

      among the apple trees.

      Grass stirs

      breeding sounds

      of joyful laughs

      to fade in the first rays of dawn.

       The Return

      Creeping along like a worm

      stuck in mud infested with alcohol

      spewing out guts and dreams.

      Blank eyes, pallid orbs deep in bone

      appearance a tangled mess.

      He is lying on the autopsy table

      declared dead.

      He opens his eyes:

      Where the hell are my glasses?

       The Real Path

      My will just as my soul

      have painted the patterns

      of this magnificent tapestry.

      My life is not delineated yet

      but transfigures itself

      with every step I take.

      Every breath feeds

      my ravenous mind

      releasing a million thoughts

      of unravelled mysteries.

      Alluringly attracting me

      extending an invisible carpet

      where I could strive safely,

      disconnected from earthly criteria.

      A wild mind aware of the essence of life

      living freely connected with nature.

      A biological calling, ingenuous and pure

      beyond superficial clichés

      a caring brave heart tamed

      with the whip of freedom.

       The Pact

      The prince is fire in shape

      image and splendour.

      A magnificent species a flamed lover

      in the art of amour.

      No match on earth

      nor in the moon.

      Both succeeded

      fertilising a bloom.

      Under the magic brilliance,

      of the mystical moon.

      A grown-up being

      was born.

      A womb of soil,

      rocks, roots, and dust.

      The white haired princess`

      breathing trust.

      An incomparable beauty

      emerald green eyes, round.

      Ruby hues in her lips

      her rose skin as hard as diamond.

      A successful arrangement

      a pact to balance the spun.

      The princess was promised

      to the prince of the sun.

       Autumn

      Leaves fall from the trees

      dry fruits hang on their barely bare branches

      with some resistant leaves.

      The verdant soil now changes

      into a pallet of warm colours,

      red, yellow and brown hues enrich the royal tapestry.

      The lazy sunshine tempers the breeze

      scattering its golden rays,

      painting in gold the vastness of the orb.

      The playful wind whispering a cadence

      of decay, sweeping away the leaves

      in a journey of dissolution and decay.

      The greens and browns turning

      into sepia.

      The nude desolate environment wears

      shades of grey in his neglected veil of Autumn.

      The ceremonial costume emerges to honour

      the arrival of harsh, maleficent Winter.

       The Bird Goddess

      Her name is Iness.

      She is dancing with all the birds of the forest performing

      rituals.

      Her bare feet softly caress the green plains

      on the wet soils.

      Like a small hummingbird

      iridescent,

      swiftly flapping her silk wings.

      Hovering gracefully in the haze

      freely embracing her fate.

      The lady of the light

      blessed with magic wings

      to protect

      to project God is energy,

      flapping her wings

      to clean the sins of the sinners.

      To command her ravens to a sacred journey

      gathering and guiding the wanderers is souls to the light.

       The Magic Hood

      She was lost

      the day someone told her to go

      and never come back.

      Shadows of grey

      painted and marbled of sorrow

      the face of a teenager of sixteen.

      Her eyes reddened drenched by tears

      obscured by a muddy tainted hood.

      Concealing the purple stains of grief,

      carved on her skinny face,

      personifying a perturbed soul demanding care

      a human being lost

      dragged into the darkest side of the abyss.

      Screaming inside

      blaming herself,

      expecting while suffering.

      Walking on the corridor of time

      wandering thoughtful,