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Best Poems Written by Jorge Martins

Below are the all-time best Jorge Martins poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Jorge Martins Poem

Wings

What are all these tales we’re supposed to romanticize?
Through all that indifference and hatred,
Soon the length of our armor will make us drown
Can’t you see we can’t support our own weight?
Ripping the circle apart and sewing it back on,
It’s not inhuman, is just impossible…
No more reason to stay in the fire long enough
To get out is to be free…

Complain about the shadows who were faster than us
Now, but back then you gave them wings to fly,
Both alone in the dark communicating by whispers
And at the nineteenth time all I still hear is “Why…”
Were we the heroes we were supposed to incarnate?
Or were we a pale reflection of what everyone sees…
Erasing all the butterflies and roses in one’s thoughts,
Freedom became an answer, but it wasn’t supposed to be…

Are we lost in what never will make sense again?
Close enough to whisper but never again close to kiss,
This was never as much as mine as it was pretending to be,
So long, the wings are on fire even in our dreams…

One step, dripping blood, the door opens,
Step after step, one leaves the room in the dark,
Soon enough, the door should be closed,
The blood is not a footstep, is a battle scar…

Rope forced, skin hurt in this invisible trial,
Long loved, soon burnt, for nothing at all,
Impossible to see, unworthy just to say “it’s enough”,
More than just to hate, is time again to fade in touch…

Bled enough to die, drank enough to cry, but still lived once,
Talked enough to lie, failed enough to try, and still does…

Freedom may be not a wish, but it’s a reason to fly away…
Can’t you see that we’re alright and that it’s time to leave it in the shade…

Details | Jorge Martins Poem

Assassin

Believe in the killer in me,
Innocent, she believes in me,
Metaphorical Scent of disease,
Regardless oh whom I tried to be...

Dead by the hands of a mistaken assassin,
Still, she claims what she was not,
The hunter became what the hunted has been,
An image of ignorance behind the roots of a thought.

Experience is worth for what we are now,
Lifeless and cruel, casting a doubt,
Over the wings of the choices we once approached,
But that's not what I saw, that's what I was told...

Dead by the hands of a mistaken assassin,
Still, she claims what she was not,
The hunter became what the hunted has been,
An image of ignorance behind the roots of a thought.

May the metal of your arms
Be my last empty grave,
For against your believes
Nothing's stronger than hate,
Just relieve this empty shell
Of all I once drew,
Because for all that I did
I'm no better than you...

Details | Jorge Martins Poem

Believe In Something That Will Die

Believe in something that will die,
Do you know what that is like?
Don't tell me you do, I know you lie...

Earn your wings, only then you fly,
Only if you had the time,
Believe in something that will die...

Hope the light still reaches your eyes,
Reflects in the shadow's misleading dive,
Believe in something that will die...

Believe in something that will die,
Only now, only if I might,
Restless again, I hope you don't cry...

I ask you, and you deny,
Still I find the truth inside, as I
Believe in something that will die...

My devotion will never fade,
A blink and a suspicion of a slight emotion, but I
Just think my memories trick me in their way, 
Still I ask: "Do you believe in something that will die?"

Details | Jorge Martins Poem

Fall In Love Again (First Poem)

Bloody Fingers,
Pointing victims
Burning evidence…
Jury duty’s
Painted fury
I want my innocence,
Stinks of flesh
And rotting pleasure
Decomposing itself…
Blame yourself,
Then cut again
Still you need no help…

For better or for worse, I’m going to be the first to burn,
And maybe then you’ll fall in love again,
And I’ll laugh and say to myself: “you’ll never learn”

Cradle lust
In death we trust
The rope’s about to break,
Life so gray,
Life’s so away,
Until someone plugs in the lake…
The badmouth watch
The priests don’t talk,
Because God is a mess…
Just take your pill,
Remaining still,
So you don’t become obsessed…

And I can’t believe I offered you my life, and you refused to die!
And maybe then you’ll fall in love again,
And I’ll laugh as I watch you cry…

Details | Jorge Martins Poem

Dreaming Awake

You’re so cold, so catatonic
To my touch, to my embrace,
I can see that something’s wrong,
Exchange the mirror in your face,
Sometimes what’s lost is also gained,
In an accomplished mistake,
And though some sleeping is always useful,
I like to see you dreaming awake…
Because the color that nearly faded,
Has come to drown you again,
And dearly beloved, here, together,
To witness this young girl in pain…

Will I ever see you breathe again?
I rest aside with my pair of wings,
The ones that used to make you dream…
I can’t expect to breathe into your lips again,
To you the pressure is overwhelming,
Did you ever have a soul that it was worth selling?

You need a miracle, not a savior,
A pacifier for your delusions of youth,
I need a minute to put the blames on
A proud partner who can’t choose.
I hope your faith does not reveal
Itself to this impure lack of kiss,
And inside this bubble of despair you hide in,
There’s your self-absorbing bliss…
Rest assured to be alive inside,
And if you’re tongue is not the same as mine,
I doubt myself as a coward’s line,
We talk in riddles at the same time…

And if I had the power to move mountains,
I still couldn’t miss what you’ve been through,
And if I was a God in heartbeats,
I’d still be weak and powerless over you…

Details | Jorge Martins Poem

Immortal

Just conceal,
All the demons left inside
They won’t hurt,
They won’t bite,
They won’t bring the pain again,
But they won’t take it away,
SCISSORS!
In melted flames!
RAZORS!
Erase the name!

And I’m sick
Of all the baths I took in bleach,
And I ran,
But they came to get me again,
And I watched,
But the incision’s not made right,
And they cut,
And I bleed, and I die!!

In all this mess,
Return some of my bones,
Then go pray!
Then go home!
But don’t return to me anymore,
I can’t care less of what once was before…
ANESTHETIC!
Relieve me, no matter the cost,
PROSTHETIC!
Try to reclaim what’s not even lost…

And I’m sick
Of all the baths I took in bleach,
And I ran,
But they came to get me again,
And I watched,
But the incision’s not made right,
And they cut,
And I bleed, and I die!!

Can you face for once your immortality?
Didn’t declare no war, but doesn’t that makes us enemies?
For in shame, I crawled back in the hole I once came out of
And reclaimed my own place in the world, 
NOT TOO MUCH, BUT ENOUGH!!

Details | Jorge Martins Poem

Dark

Dark,
There’s only darkness overcoming the apparently peaceful halo in my soul,
Darkness only disrupted by the deep roar of a distant thunder,
Announcing the change that can, and must happen,
The first cloud starts to cry, and its tears penetrate in the calm of the dark lake,
Others soon follow, creating an aura of mist around the transparent water,
It’s a warning for me to take shelter, so I can escape the rain, that burns,
Burns my skin with its touch, burns my ears, with its interference in the silence,
And I soon go to my so-called home, nothing more than ashes over ashes that still cover my 
head when it rains, and so I wait…

Dark,
As I watch the strange phenomenon that with its simple action can cause so much damage 
without even knowing, 
I pray that I can keep my precious silence for some more time,
And as the rain stops, I look to the dark hole that is the sky, in search for a rainbow that I 
know in advance that just won’t come,
Only a reflection of my human nature, searching for a light that I know that doesn’t exist, 
only to find disappointment instead,
I come out of the shelter and see if it’s peaceful again outside, and there’s no sound, 
No rain, no thunder, only the calming sound of the absorbing silence and of death awaiting, 
for every breath that slowly comes out of my burned lungs,
All like it should be, except for a beam of light that paints the sky, with its seven colors 
majestically dancing before my eyes.
The light seemed more present, like it should never fade away, but of course, it 
disappeared, leaving me with despair to comfort my numbed soul,
So, I kept walking, just waiting,

Dark,
Sitting in a grey heart-shaped rock,I think of death, and how its embrace would  give me the 
silence that I so desperately seek, and that I so desperately reject when it’s right before my 
eyes.
And so I realized I had become nothing but an addicted for silence and for light, and 
surprisingly, it doesn’t bother me.
I try but I can’t hear anything, I can’t hear the most soothing sound in the world, I can’t hear 
the silence, replaced by shadows, but only for an instant,
Soon, the shadows die around me, only to return the silence and something even more 
precious, the light, the comforting light that my eyes seek so desperately, to drink from it, to 
bathe in it,
And then, followed by change, I stop waiting…

The silence ends, my heart beats again, and I know someday I’ll die, but I don’t mind…

Details | Jorge Martins Poem

Scented Pain

Come down
Until I have to rise above to smile
Been there
The ultimate dispute for us to share
Somehow
I realized the time was to beware
Sell your soul
As long as you can maintain your style

Drifting
Apart from everything that once was not
Dead!
This flaw of judgment remaining untrue
Call again
You look for me, but I still run from you
Burning ash
Builds conquered lungs in this embrace, so hot…

Scented pain
Is what I feel at night when I steal your breath,
Do it now!
And pretend another pleasure dressed as youth,
Fading out…
I turn night in day, and what I say in truth,
All bled by now!
That useless wrist may make you happy, but will not bring you death…