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Rita Faria Poem
Empty streets I walk and walk
Aimed at the lonely riverside
There's nothing to think of, just stand there
Just stand there and quietly stare
At the water at my feet
Struggling to flow down my face
While my favorite music plays.
Empty streets I walked and walked
To the sound of a desolate trumpet
Played by a mask hidden puppet
Crying please drop a little stone
To take the sorrow off these bones!
And miles and miles I walked alone..
A stranger stopped me and said please,
Would you come for a cup of tea?
But fear and cold won over warmth;
I turned my back, made something up
And all alone I pursued to walk
Through empty streets in the twilight.
Who knows what could it be
Of the stranger who wanted tea?
Maybe a swindler or a thief,
Or maybe someone just needing company
Two blue eyes wanting to talk
And to maybe come along my walk,
And listen,
Listen to me,
Something I'll eternally need.
But I said no, and continued to walk
Through empty streets at the twilight.
I've seen love, I've seen hate
I've seen the world in this tiny place
By walking along the same old streets...
I've been smiled at, been ignored
But I've never stopped my walk
Through empty streets down and up
Alone with ghosts and dreams and thoughts
I see the people who I love
Appearing and fading in the air...
Drown in coffee and illusion,
I walk behind the fake profusion
Of a life in the other shore
I never doubted I would adore.
But for the first time I am scared;
Scared of not being myself
Something so easy to prevent,
Yet so hard to understand...
I live in illusion!
Like my sisters and my brothers.
And talking about the others,
Hand in hand I see two lovers:
Something I have never tasted
Because so far I've only waited,
Waited while my life's on pause.
But what's a pause without a dream?
It's a guitar without a string!
It's endless time without a clock,
It's the empty streets I walk.
But still, in the riverside's horizon
Empty as it is, or full as it may seem
A little boat remains there floating
For all of us still hoping
For a glimmer, for a light
There at the lonely riverside
Hope of one day walking back
The empty streets, no longer black.
Copyright © Rita Faria | Year Posted 2011
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Details |
Rita Faria Poem
Please, stop… Please.
I’ve stopped it long ago,
Long enough for you to stop too.
I don’t love you…
But then why do I in all sobriety
Keep counting every step you’ve taken from me?
I don’t want you.
But I want you here…
We know how to keep our distance;
One simple touch a day
If that much, I shall say…
But we’re not frightened of anything.
I am strong, you’re strong.
Why not fight those silly feelings?
Or as it turns out slightly tough,
Just hide them till they turn to dust…
See I balance with melodies
You equate your numbers
But nothing comes to equal
When it comes to our problems:
Both pushing from opposite sides
We’re either cold or almost tied
And when it seems clear in your voice
You’ll come up with some other noise
And I’ll be here, you’ll be there…
We’re sure apart, but you’re everywhere!
And just as one day you’ll give it all
Next day you’ll only leave a whole.
And so I’ll ask you now once more:
Please, stop… Please.
I’ve stopped it long ago,
Long enough for you to stop too.
I don’t love you…
… So please stop making me do so.
Copyright © Rita Faria | Year Posted 2011
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Details |
Rita Faria Poem
So you think you have me already
Quiet and steady under your thumb ?
You think you're holding me,
Controlling me,
With a bipolarity that blinds the enemy;
One day I'm stupid and invisible,
Your favorite and most vulnerable target
On which you test all of your powers
Making me feel just as weak;
You win.
And the next day,
Undressed of all your guards and ghosts,
Tenderness is all you hold
And night to dawn you'll stay for hours,
Talk what's ours, and ask me to elope.
Tell me, did you lose?
See I have given up those silly games
We have been playing on forever,
As soon as I stopped and realized
The little time we have left together.
But as you carry on, I wonder
Can I stand this any longer? No.
I surrender:
You're the smallest of my problems,
Yet the one I think of most,
But if you're too pleased to sort it out
Then just please leave me alone.
And now I'll leave the hardest words
Ones that I will never tell you,
Ones we'll always run away from:
I think I love you.
Copyright © Rita Faria | Year Posted 2011
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