Best Fossa Poems


Stalker

The humans were gone from this island for twenty million years
Its twenty million years in to the future and those islands are new frontiers 
The mother giant lemur her children rears 
One of lone lemurs nearby cleans his ears

He jumps on large baobab tree
But this baobab is not the largest tree
He will see
There is one right next to it and related but ninety meter tall beauty 

He climbs up and looks at the appearing visage of majestic moon
It will be lemurs’ time to go to sleep pretty soon
The silver blue light of the full moon 
Illuminates the deep lagoon

This is the time when like a shadow from the dark 
Giant relative of fossa looks to make his mark
In his powerful like moving train but very elastic gate he makes an arc
He is relative of mongoose looks like a cat dog cross but does not bark 

Instead he howls like a demon at the night
To fear this animal for any creature would be right
The moon is shinning bright
But even in total darkness fossa has incredible sight

But unlike human age fossa this one is over three meters long not counting the tail
And it looks like it came straight from hell when its teeth it will unveil 
His claws also the prey can impale 
And prowling this primeval looking forest is this sleek and very dangerous male

He sees a lemur in moons light
He stalks him during part of the night
With fear hundred and sixty kilogram lemur’s face turns white
When giant fossa begins to bite

The fight goes from tree tops to the ground
But other predators hear the sound
The giant crock does not waste time to sit around
He wants fossas’ prey that’s sent he smells like a bloodhound 

For a moment fossa is dumfound 
Fighting off another predator by fossa gives lemur time to escape without a sound
The crock tries to grab the fossa but fossa jumps back just to rebound
By the demonic agility of fossa the crock is spellbound 

Fossa grabs the crock and with enormous strength of the jaw she bites through crocks’ head
Just like that the crock falls dead
The ground turns blood red
And primordial predator continues ahead 

Once again he looks to the mysterious moon
Howling to it with melancholic and dreadful tune
He will find another prey soon
Chasing after it with a force of typhoon

Hough

It's called the Popliteal Fossa,
colloquially, the 'Hough'.

It is that sweet place behind your knee
that looks so like a boudoir pillow,
and yet becomes a tender hollow
when at rest.

A disguised beauty, but ever responsive
to my lips caress.

Such are the small things lovers
hardly ever mention with words
as they allow flesh to speak to flesh.

O Sonho

O Sonho

As pessoas não sabem que o sonho 
é a vida 
que dá vida
tão concreta e definida 
como outra coisa qualquer, 
como estas maritacas que gritam 
em bebedeiras de verde. 

As pessoas não sabem 
que o sonho 
é vinho, é batom, é fermento, 
bichinho de focinho pontiagudo, 
que fossa através de tudo 
num perpétuo movimento. 

As pessoas não sabem 
que o sonho 
é tela, é cor, é pincel, 
base, fuste, vitral, 
contraponto, 
sinfonia, 
máscara grega, magia, 
que é mapa do mundo distante, 
rosa-dos-ventos
que é Cabo da Boa Esperança!

As pessoas não sabem
nem sonham, 
que o sonho comanda a vida. 

As pessoas não sabem
Que sempre que uma pessoa sonha 
o mundo pula e avança 
como bola colorida 
entre as mãos de uma criança.

Sonhe hoje,
Sonhe sempre.


Sonho Comanda a Vida

Sonho comanda a vida

O sonho 
é uma constante da vida 
tão concreta e definida 
como outra coisa qualquer.
 
O sonho 
é batom,
é espuma, é fermento, 
bichinho de focinho pontudo, 
que fossa através de tudo 
num perpétuo movimento. 

O sonho 
é paleta, é cor, 
é pincel, 
é base, 
máscara,
é mate 
magia, 
é Cabo da Boa Esperança! 

saiba, sonhe, 
que o sonho comanda a vida. 
Que sempre que uma pessoa sonha 
o mundo pula e avança 
como bola colorida 
entre as mãos de uma criança.

Motor

Motor

O grande motor da vida
é o sonho,...Sempre 
que uma pessoa sonha 
o mundo pula 
como bola colorida 
nas mãos de uma criança.

O sonho 
é batom,
é espuma, 
é fermento, 
bichinho 
de focinho pontudo, 
que fossa através de tudo 
num perpétuo movimento
de fazer mais e mais.

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