giving my senses away

12/10/2011
can you believe your eyes?©papa osmubal

can you believe your eyes?©papa osmubal

giving my senses away
elisa lai

leaning by you
I learnt to depend
to not trust my senses
because I’ve given them all to you
whatever you see I can feel it with my hands
whatever you smell I perceive it with all my senses
I choose to trust you, to depend on you
not because I can’t trust myself
nor because I have some kinds of inability
but because I trust myself
I trust my choice


a walk in the woods

30/06/2011
trees ©papa osmubal

trees ©papa osmubal


a walk in the woods

elisa lai

rolling leaves
by lonely steps
always ahead of me

scattering shadows
a gift from the moon

the breeze whistles
we home


why me?

26/06/2011
... but if not me, who would it be? ©papa osmubal

... but if not me, who would it be? ©papa osmubal


why me?

elisa lai

The roaring fire shuts my mouth
The creeping darkness grasps my heart
My feet can’t move
My hands can’t wave
Where is my soul?
Where are my senses?
My calls are in vain
My thoughts in pain
But
My eyes stare at the hollow path
where faith is sold
and love is denied
My lips finally depart and release these words:
‘Why me? Why me.’


a petalfly

25/06/2011
butterfly ©papa osmubal

butterfly ©papa osmubal


a petalfly

elisa lai

drifting down the noon beams
a golden petal
on reaching the cement
it came to life
and flew
away from me


morning parting

25/06/2011
so near and yet so far ©papa osmubal

so near and yet so far ©papa osmubal

morning parting
elisa lai

how blank the blanket
just your shape remains

how many pills left in the pillow
so used to your head

how sad the shadow
silhouette at the door

how sore the song
in this head sounding

how dead the bed
no beat beside me

now that
your heart
is stone


untitled

22/06/2011
broken tomb inscription ©papa osmubal

broken tomb inscription ©papa osmubal

untitled
elisa lai

a blank blanket
a pilled pillow
a cool cushion
a sad shadow
a sore song
a dead bed


egg tea at eleven*

19/06/2011
street sweeper ©papa osmubal

street sweeper ©papa osmubal

egg tea at eleven*
elisa lai

a simple life
leading a simple life
is never a simple task

for you need an unusually simple brain
to simplify complicated things

to do so you need to know
how to forget, how to ignore,
and how not to think in the way we think
when we end up with all
the complicated stuff

thinking simply is an art
the simplest things
have perfected
 
take for example
the petal-fly
 
drifting down the noon beams
it comes to life
and flies
away from me

it’s gone
 
this is all very simple
what else can you make of it?

it’s hard to think of
nothing at all
so perhaps its best
to think little thoughts
just of small things

leading a simple life
you see
is never a simple task

you need a tiny simple brain
that really knows how to think


* from Poetry Macao