Dear face beyond emptiness your eyes are gentleness, I am up to high in my dream and you painted so well my primal scream that I will leave you these words as a handshake. May we endure the poetry of love and ache with the random fragility in motion around here, where the salted geography is felt like our tear. Indoors with a long turbulence I stand around the seeking.
A DELICATE PASSION AROUND THE PURE LIFE
The way a walk can be a chain of lust getting out somewhere into deepness when our noble care is a trust with the feelings are beyond the taking which we had hold with the necessary display of the body being told about twisting moods and across the skies. Why I all always focus to notice the end of this fly like coming back to my solemn kingdom and it seems too much but not from my reservoir of freedom that keeps breathing as a good company.
Dear face beyond emptiness your eyes are gentleness, I am up to high in my dream and you painted so well my primal scream that I will leave you these words as a handshake. May we endure the poetry of love and ache with the random fragility in motion around here, where the salted geography is felt like our tear. Indoors with a long turbulence I stand around the seeking. Does the insight of a scarlet dream enlarge the being where a calm passion takes hold of this way of tracking the skies? It is just when the sunlight that walks towards the vision upon my eyes and together we can ship the moon by hanging the spin of a cloud. Maybe inside this substance and taking proud in this walk, then the love and the tact are as prudent as the frank arctic. Are you the voice at the seaside, a friendly murmur in deluxe pride which sails with the bird’s gentle morphology over the San Telmo’s fire? Perhaps existence longs for a sober desire. My political space needs to extend my choice as you woke me and spoke in your tender voice and we fade in passing away from narrowed lives. To caress the experienced taste of love bonds in one memory read in profound and as a curious portrait as we seek, tell, wish. The longing choice taking a hidden shadow from the balance in sirens across the bay, to dance with you on the sandy taste of your name, in your sign that tells me to hear your flame, so come sweet shining spirit, we can stand to swear for secrets that wait hand in hand. The thin agility of a tiny bridge in a low voice is like a delicate motion daring to comply with sharpened changes that ease the injuries.
What it hurts in everyone’s memory out of a globe in warm circles that we claim? Should I guard this treasure in me? Open the love in your mood of hope and tell me about this, now and with my credence, wondering to go inside your distant soul, in the old boats, the seagulls in the freedom of the whole. I wish to like you and to accept your smile at me in a distant land, stay inside, for a while in my sincere way because I know hearts; they pulse in the virginity of life, on each gender in each cruel absence but there in far graces by parts, a serious rendez-vous is waiting and your windy skirt also wonders what is to be felt everywhere, though I declare my breathing spirit to approach what our joy can dare.
The spirits in fight with the heat that always remark the aspects of shores well united to wait for the glowing in the direction of lips and arms. The confessions taken as art of a confined sacred acceptance that hears the alma mater once risen from coldness and as reply from every of these
portmanteaus that influences respect in our own reality, then the good work of huge thinkers enable the fair probabilities and we can be familiar with our own resolutions. I can’t handle being the odd one out because friends do not want to face their feelings. My own family cannot face what I know they feel. How can I know that I am not dreaming when I am with the essence of unity around the reflex of my logic? Well, I hold the eye contact on my senses, turning the actual alma mater into nothing less than a penniless logic. But the facility of my shoulders endured 3 ferocious policemen and carried into the skies, a brief salvation from an old man. What happened to the meaning of dream in this note? It stands for the motility of this alma mater when there are no bonds to embrace but in respect for logic, came justice, under the eyes of respect, turning the oppression into the liberation of complexity of the human things. If ageism can take respect as a guiding inspiration into the population something that lasts like the moving story of the Portuguese man, José Mestre, ´A Man With No Face´ on the hearts but independently and longing no more for random brief and urgent salvations but globally. Out of the academic insurance, up too high with those immense forms of casualties that lead youth into the perpetual sadness of being taught as History of Universities had told them. But if you ask into any student or teacher, or a PhD a simple wise question, you can note, that the bird of the gentle tree takes the pure wisdom of this solitaire man with a mighty clear vision and sings for these people every morning because he who writes to prepare the legacy of what is important also carries his own moving story and that is the dream inside the logic.
Sometimes there is a composed exasperation of not being understood among the icons that I created from street poetry, spontaneous philosophy, tutor of nursing, Anarchist activism; the conclusion is that like in silence, it lies in all energetic peer sensations if that is possible to hold, that all that is felt among the collective expressions of love, even if they are sponsored by one other way of whispering time, there are friendly events called enigmas and everything around is a search for company on the biological functions that are on the way of the facts as we act in passion around the pure life.
The dimension of a wide extension of fear like the compulsory education is no form of being human in respect. Going out from this sharpened tear, a thick full source of new creations make notes in here and thinking on what existence is loaded with, in the precise exactitude about what the human race in its destiny, knowing the lane to be with the act sweeping in their solitude, so that the good heart of the human science guards and works to remark this fact. The note in here goes inside as also comes closer and soon our smile will travel into a shore, to hold the sea poetry and whisper her more over. To strain this open attitude so much more on what we do with all the feelings posted in the unknown truths. In the awake of a brave solitude of youth, there are thinkers in high vivid realities that in the play of their nude wisdom mirror that on its horizon, somehow is a calm strength in action as their eyes enlarge with an exact intention for the shape of the known solitude with its own fraction, taken in dialogs down at the seaside when reality and the thinking collide for the late night swim and we should go in. The clean enhancement for spirituality has feelings in plurality coming from a misty morning in touch with that hermit’s mighty ego nudity in rush for the quietness of Earth’s time, as truth in a subliminal sense around a mnemonic being in love and the angle on which your ankles are above. So here it goes my paper note on his curled flying destination into the lucidity of the giant freedom that exists in a poetical recreation. A distant prudence in a sufficed northern windy spirit trough a long compel of marching waters still beyond the consolation in the whole of this.
To clean the aura we can do the following:
1. Using your fingers as a comb, comb through the space surrounding your body from head to toe. Clean your hands with running water before and after doing this.
2. Stand under a waterfall or shower.
3. Walking in the rainfall.
4. Run freely and playfully in the wind.
5. Using a single feather or feather whisk make sweeping motions through the space surrounding your body.
6. Smudge the area surrounding your body with the smoke from sage, lavender, and/or sweet grass.
7. Emerse and soak your body in an Epsom salt bath.
1. Turkey or owl feathers are especially good feathers to use for sweeping the aura.
2. Take care to do some deep breathing exercises while cleansing your aura to aid in flushing your inner body.
3. Caution: Do not walk in the rain during an electrical storm.
If you feel better in yourself, make some creative tasks, even if it concerns matter, it will help the spirit to be absent from the height of things and the complex become simple in the duration of
your time. Choose your time, you must gather time for you and extend him into peaceful events, like a walk on the beach and if you’re too shy like me, make it when there is few people and take with you the necessary things that make you feel safe among the crowd. Pretend that you are and you really can be interested on the plants in the dunes and pay no attention directly into people in front of you. Sometimes and mainly men feel like bad when you look deep inside their eyes and they take it as a provocation to manhood. Sit down because we are all free, the seat takes the eyes into the thought and that will help you to embrace nature and the cosmos. Then you are in harmony because you could be yourself without external mimetic behaviors. That is the simple difference between the passion of uniqueness, free from dark institutions and safe on your freedom to the whole of existence with peace after the boiling conclusion of what it makes the galaxy of yourself, be seen by a kind care of humanity.
HANGING THE SPIN FROM A GENEROUS CLOUD
To endure a hiding fire from a lusty sky and the biscuits circle for sonatas in your eye where the body of a candy face runs deep, maybe the dressing cello of your lip that crucifies a sound and a speed and you’re in my need by the sacred integrity of a random bliss so more and so far here’s my kiss. This little kiss as the first where a tender thirst that came to refrain an orchard where the May scent and his archery, both have a similar architecture to be explained in what you are involved and sustains a kind of archery that forever and blows with me and you make our things in tasty flows.
The assembled heart carried in for secrets as being reverenced out of the counting years, where the gospel rhythm influxes me into streets, to the petal accent in the warmth tears which is a perfumed life painted in the eyes as solemn as the heat from a proper eloquence of the damned. He sat still and quietly calm, meant to inflict a new kind of kick when the band walked by for the body of your nation and he secretes me the tights of fluxes of an Indian tent where my longing eyes stand to think at the front of a curious brick. There, the heartbeat is solidly given for the up rise of your soul in season. When everything is blindly pure after some thousands of clean lines, our true lure, on and off by remembering a lightning time. The childhood is still delicately divine while a sempiternal motion in faraway natures could be a brave owner of the free heat. And among some sliding lips of all creatures in the open fidelity as a tender life beat facing with angelical features like fractals. This distant shape runs in our kindness. May this union trade the good couple into the understanding that peace collides with darkness. This early honesty begins as the main classic ruin framed in time with the intent which makes all hymns and for delicate rhymes coming with uncurled matter into the unknown and with personal skies to be felt in visibility as eyes meet skin and they were shown in the departure of your arctic sensibility. May the piano will shed the tears stolen from talent and emerging from a small wonder in this vertigo world where I know you are your own hit sacrament with that heat dream parade being you a giant human. This written way goes with a new bright impulse. Just as if the frozen thick tooth would swear for an uncertain truth in sugar sprayed hearts being seduced for the warm approach as the leaves repose. While sounds flew and rose and the morning uttering stories in us, ascending from a founded glory. Watch the little shy ways always hesitating, looking at spirit’s crown as advice and you can draw what you’re aiming by turning ashes into some new and thoughtful ice as the melted heart has a dancing melody. Whenever the pillow fights with us along, the night, along the funny way of being strong is alive.
Wanting to offer my sonority in smuggling grace as the jump is still so far away and close to your face. That is me and a dim dime coming closer in the day as you sang about the things that could approach to stay with the movement of braveness that could have your attention. Please, rewind what was your mind as invention; evoke a cosmic smile in every act, your real prolific consequence of being cloud in will. You wonder for that thoughtful feeling walking in your body and you could have taken him to me. I keep you in my own in your birthday meetings as you and I tend to chant a summer and the life of he like a smiling libido into the right warm door of the
world. The refrain feeling fine and his proclamation is now dressed in blue with a recreation of this passenger and you are still a little girl. There are calm storms as they are your riding true. The body in kindness has to claim as I face your way of going up there to the taste of a brand new aim like the candy seeds in an open care given me by a precious conscious in the breaking hour where I focus my love in my lusty eyes around the surface of hermit flour. Is the mirror down from the skies to care and to love, comes the gathering in freedom and you can unite your soul with a bright and cozy wisdom.
When something is on the corner of what is inside the feeling by the verge of knowing the profound scientific sense of the gut in the self-will to ensure what we can do, we should extend the liberation from the rising left wing and right wing fascism; is like water from a rusty pipe away from a joke, longing for the look inside the same aspect where somewhere deep, we paint the lullaby that makes from the clear floating mirror, a calm chain of desire. The body awakes forever on our first drive around the fresh voice after the sober silence aside the land and with an approach to a frank mood, being blessed by the myriad of books produced by nature and men go in a war. They read then in every tough page of closed meanings. Why? Sometimes the hide and seek is the vestige of the infancy in adults; the silver imagination takes every tree out of honor and with this stolen freedom the political bone of nature´s self-will, shall win because it was the first who drove. This is a spontaneous reflection, waiting for repose that my parcel of dreams will work maybe to wonder or predict about the humans with open hearts.
The dream awoke with an outspoken head on the turning idea sooner than should common people undertake as stupid, then what else the dear wisdom can do, rather than feel the tragedy of the gold empire of the State and the Churches being mined with a piece of underwear in this house of love. Yes, dear Manfred, you watched for me in your motor bike where I used to shave at his mirror, we took shower together, yes Lissabon the best city in the world; they robbed all Manfred, I escaped again, it keeps going the taking of my spirit in a forbidden curve where my possessions still satisfy the same humans that are a subjective beauty into the motility of my favorite muse, a fragile women, delicate and wise to the crowd as these words were made by the sun, dear Patrícia. And the band keeps playing Waltzing Matilda now down in Romania where the milky tricks of the hate the French and German had, is now being taken to the cruelty souvenirs ahead and with the stereo off. May your brother rest in peace and please shut the door, close the curtains, give me again a yogurt I can´t stop being inside your room staring at a sea of flashes and your Brian Jones had what were as the tears go by and it is just you on your underwear around this similar fragile figure that cared for the humble black man that I saw today. Close your eyes, this is what I and you had to get it out, of course for me it is clear as I was your existential tutor and you were my muse. Now I am alone in the interval of the same poetical afternoons where the Ocean stands with me, inside the empowering of my poetical body.
Eduardo Alexandre Pinto