Demolition of Ego

letter of a drift

[demolitionofego]

The elusive, irrepressible passage of time—

I count the days as I count each particle of matter,

each subject, each verb, each tear, each drop of sea.

In the land of make-believe,

why is it an endless fight?

It's hard to see the truth within,

the irremediable turning of scars into schisms.

All the affection I had to give you—

dare to name them a devilish scheme.

I can't turn your head around,

can't make you see with eyes

that perceive only what can't be seen.

Eyes so bright, like water reflecting moonbeams.

An eye for an eye, flesh in the pen—

you can't destroy my heart if I've mended it.

I have endured, I have persisted.

There's no expiration date on when you will see my end.

[demolitionofego]

BMX - Refero Beach

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In the aftermath of night's raging embrace,

Little shattered hearts count the passing of another year's this grace.

If I could share a wish with just un-soul,

It would be to fix the fractures, thread the wool of broken parts whole.

When distance grows, my silent lament calls for understanding and life unfolds,

Separation, my dear, hurts more than the stories we have never untold.

For you, my sorrow was a mere façade, yet, you demeaned the purity within

Yet my attempts were in vain and with disdain they were displaced, just another vile sin.

Arguments, a strange comfort, I was a crippling fool,

Like the time spent alone in streets, feet black and blue.

But this year, without hesitance, I reclaim my soul's residence,

Deep down where hardness finds its permanence, I no longer resonate with regrets and decadence.

So, don't be startled, for I can't reciprocate nor retaliate, I'm no longer like that

Take your shards of echoes for your actions, taste the bitter twist of fate.

Because all the lone hearts threaded a common path on Christmas Eve,

Streets, however, remain cold and empty, like the false vows you transmit in your voided parade.

[demolitionofego]

In the shadowed corridors of my own dread,

A friend once whispered, "It won't do you much good,"

"Have you ever tried," he asked , "to feel instead?

Let the surreal dance, as it truly should."

"Feel the weight you carry, the silence you mute,

You scribble about roughs, in ink so crude.

Why not, my friend, aim for the moon's pursuit?

Ascend from the depths , let your spirit elude."

And so, I embarked, sinking into reflection,

Penning down my conundrums, a soul's inspection.

Only to find, in the echo of my own mind,

I stood alone, in a realm of oblivium confined.

Yet, in the solitude, a revelation dawned,

A tapestry of emotions, intricately spawned.

For within the depths of my own despair,

I discovered a universe, vast and rare.

[demolitionofego]

I attempted to call, but our connection faltered,

Destined for the heartbreak's customary altar.

A red alert, a deceptive alarm blared,

I discovered a hardness within, more than you cared.

You, the bearer of truth, slipped away,

Leaving me pondering, how to mend and sway.

Expectations soaring, attitudes crude,

Should we halt or persist in this solitude?

Once a promising companion, now viewed with disdain,

My words coarse, my heart's cry, all in vain.

In my naivety, I let you slip through,

How can I reconcile when feelings are askew?

Having endured much, my vulnerability surfaces,

Yet, your demeanor remains, unyielding and purposeless.

How should I be? I'm lost in this maze,

Your sarcastic remedy, a therapist's phrase.

Hoping someday you perceive the hue,

Of the melancholy you painted, making me feel so blue.

[demolitionofego]

O estudo da poesia,

Como o estudo dos astros,

Exige cálculos; uma estrela e a estratégia do traço, um ponto final de energia escura, aja à luz na escrita imagética para refletir com as iluminações do passado,

E o asterisco que pontua um errante e necessário vernáculo, é

O prisma semântico que iridesce o sujeito oculto e fraco.

E a morfologia do quanto, é metonímia quântica em verso e canto

E, à semelhança do Starman em lata de aço, astro supermassivo e raro

Crio orbes de vácuo mudo, mundo em cada partícula de significado.

[demolitionofego]

In stone, a monument, a silent lament,

A memento, an argument, a soothing ailment.

Leaping to conclusions, embracing the moment,

Terrorized by the dance of changes, time, omnipotent.

Detaching myself from the threads of attachment,

I savor displacement, a deliberate detachment.

In the present, I find my own firmament,

Through a visual impairment, a perception, resilient.

[catastrophiceli]

John Baldessari - The Difference Between Fête and Fate, 1987

[demolitionofego]

In a world cracked and worn, rebellion's silent dance, Stories etched in shadows, where anarchy finds a chance.

Beneath neon lights' glow, whispers in the air, No tales of yielding, just echoes of despair.

Awaiting sunrise, a rebel's simple plight, Confronting destiny, in the quiet of the night.

In a canvas of chaos, seeking a friendly face, Yearning for kinship, in this dissonant space.

Thrown into the abyss, we realise the sky, Look up, comrade, where defiance learns to fly.

A different light in our secret room, Not extinguished, nor ablaze, in this quiet gloom.