Margaret Atwood - The Moment

The moment when, after many years
of hard work and a long voyage
you stand in the centre of your room,
house, half-acre, square mile, island, country,
knowing at last how you got there,
and say, I own this,

is the same moment when the trees unloose
their soft arms from around you,
the birds take back their language,
the cliffs fissure and collapse,
the air moves back from you like a wave
and you can't breathe.

No, they whisper. You own nothing.
You were a visitor, time after time
climbing the hill, planting the flag, proclaiming.
We never belonged to you.
You never found us.
It was always the other way round.




Margaret Atwood (Poeta Canadiana, 1939- )

Biografia de Margaret Atwood

Kristina Rungano - The Woman

Foto: Bart

A minute ago I came from the well
Where young women drew water like myself
My body was weary and my heart tired.
For a moment I watched the stream that rushed before me;
And thought how fresh the smell of flowers,
How young the grass around it.
And yet again I heard the sound of duty
Which ground on me – made me feel aged
As I bore the great big mud container on my head
Like a big painful umbrella.
Then I got home and cooked your meal
For you had been out drinking the pleasures of the flesh
While I toiled in the fields.
Under the angry vigilance of the sun
A labour shared only by the bearings of my womb.
I washed the dishes; yours
And we swept the room we shared
Before I set forth to prepare your bedding
In the finest corner of the hut
Which was bathed by the sweet smell of dung
I had this morning applied to the floors
Then you came in,
In your drunken lust
And you made your demands
When I explained how I was tired
And how I feared for the child – yours – I carried
You beat me and had your way
At that moment
You left me unhappy and bitter
And I hated you
Yet tomorrow I shall again wake up to you
Milk the cow, plough the land and cook your food,
You shall again be my Lord
For isn’t it right that woman should obey,
Love, serve and honour her man?
For are you not the fruit of the land?




Kristina Rungano (Poetisa do Zimbabwe, 1963- )

Biografia de Kristina Rungano

João Melo - A Lagartixa Frustrada

Um dia
a lagartixa
quis ser dinossauro

Convencida
saltou pra rua
montada em blindados
pra disfarçar a sua insignificância

Tentou mobilizar as formigas
que seguiam
atarefadas
pro trabalho

"Ó pobre e reles lagartixa
condenada
à fria solidão
das paredes enormes e nuas
tu não sabes que os dinossauros
são fósseis
pre-históricos



João Melo (Poeta Angolano)

Encandescente - Se eu quiser

Foto: Just fly, by bloobird

Se quiser caminhar sobre as águas
Caminho!
Nem que tenha de lutar contra ventos e tempestades
Dobrar Cabos Sem Esperança e vontades
Vencer um qualquer Adamastor.
Se quiser voar como as aves
Eu voo!
Mesmo desafiando leis e gravidade
Serei asas, voo e liberdade
Quebrarei amarras do destino plano e raso
E nada impedirá céu e voo.
Se quiser como um verme rastejar
Morder dos outros passos e terra
Como um verme rastejarei!
Porque minha
É a minha vontade
E minha a liberdade
E se chão quiser ser
Pó, terra e chão serei!



Encandescente (Poetisa e escritora criadora do blog Erotismo na Cidade), publicado a 11/08/2006.