literature

(we're all) hopeless wanderers

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Sammur-amat
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Literature Text

           ..............She was nefelibata.....,,,,,,...............
              ...............................,,,,,,,,,,,,,,...
   ,,,,,,,,,...........a dream cloud walker.....................,,,,,,,,,,,
    ,,,,,,,,,,,,....with precious crystalline wings,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,                  
          ...................potent enough....................
   ..............to keep her feet.......................................
.....................a few inches above........................
                    ,,,,,,,,,,,,.............earth..
          ,,,,,,,,,,,....,,,,,,,,,,......................................
                          ....,,,,,,,...................
     ..................He was tempestuous.......................
         .........with skin soaked languidly in brine......,,,,,,,......
  ..........................................................,,,,,,
                  ,,,,,,,,........saudade keeps him...,,,,,,,,,,,,........
                    ,,,,........anchored although............
        ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,..............all chains rust in..........,,,,,,,,
                  ........time.......
some Portuguese words that (in our minds) are meant to stay

nefelibata
lit. "cloud walker"; one who lives in the clouds of their own imagination, or one who does not obey by the conventions of society, literature, or art. Portuguese origin.

saudade
a feeling of longing, melancholy, or nostalgia that is supposedly characteristic of the Portuguese or Brazilian temperament.
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tirasunil's avatar
tirasunil
saudadeastral: stargate lover, come back to me
the sun presets your heart for a burn cycle
(flame, flume, flare, fade)
the moon twists and twinges to see you fly --
glisten, glow, glide aside my mind
wait for the pull to lessen, crash and break (black and blue)
i was never grand enough,
opulence has small charm for a corpse
(those ragged carpets and incense hold infinity for me)
i was never grand enough,
a wise man with a mind but no hands to plan with
(purposeless, crystalline -- true, true)
i was never grand enough,
ran through the streets with a flag on my wrist
(filthy and fletched and follied, yeah)
if you get a twitch, a stitch in your soul
remember we're not so far apart after all
just stars on the surface, satellites orbiting the same idea
that one ceiling isn't enough to block out the sky
when wondering when i will whisk you away,
recall i wait while the waters wake
wild whistles waxing and waning
weightlessness in the ways of winter
(words, words, words, words)
let me list the thing