Adelatus

(Víctor Lemes) For thy glory, I would do anything In my limitless power. For my power Resides in the inner realms. I despise force and monarchy, However, thou shall rule me And I may call thee Queen, though I may be Only a fool. I hereby release all My prisoners. For this land of lovers There shall never have A place for my fears. There's plenty of rooms Here in the hearts of My lonely self.

(Víctor Lemes) Tell 'er you like 'er, they say. It is not necessary, though, I say, sentiments are not meant To tell, rather to feel. Once I love 'er, she'll know. Feel it? Do not hear it nor read it, For words are nothing. It is hard to find a deep person Like you are, they say. So be one yourself, I reply. Are we both lucky? Perhaps... 'I am glad you've found 'er,' But, have I? Question is, Has she found me? Yet, would she have found me If she'd never lost me? What do words and sword Have in common, I ask. Both can be written with The same number of letters; Both can be manipulated By the wielder to attack And to defend; Both can save and kill. Be aware of 'em! I am waiting by the gates Of your chambers of torture, I am willing to find your truths You just have to invite me in.

(Víctor Lemes) I'll let him speak. My other self. He usually speaks to me while I'm walking home late at night. You see, I have many other selfs within this moving corpse. We dialog pretty often, specially at night, when all the other people are sleeping... We often speak about many things, a variety of subjects I know I can't speak with somebody else. Stuff like random stuff. Things that pop in my head while I'm speaking to her, for example. I'll say "her" because I don't want to compromise my relationship with her. The reasons are many: 1. I don't want to fall in love with her; 2. I don't want to assume I've already fallen for her; 3. I'm scared of new relationships; 4. I'm scared I might fail again. These are the top 5 reasons I, from now on, shall call her as "her". Well, yes, I've mentioned only 4 out of those 5 reasons. Well, that's me talking, his other self. The fifth reason is something he wants to keep...

Reuni todos os poemas escritos desde e para o meu primeiro amor até a atual,  e os dividi em 4 capítulos: A Calmaria, A Tempestade, A Maresia, e O Amor. Este é meu terceiro livro, e traz uma mescla de poesias amadoras e mais maduras, em sua grande maioria em português, mas algumas (por motivos "pseudo-óbvios") em inglês. Ele está disponível para compra no site Clube de Autores:

(Víctor Lemes) When I am there, She, unfortunately, Seems not to be. Why does not time Like me?

(Víctor Lemes) I may possibly be Another one On the collection she Claims she does not own. I'd taken off my glasses To avoid going deeper into your eyes, For many times, But, as a mermaid comes and goes Your voice had got into my ears And I heard you deep inside of me. There shall be a near instant When you possibly shall go through That feeling I've always had Close to you For someone you, also, deeply love.

(Víctor Lemes) Her tomorrow you may think There is not, for it takes Too long to be born, Be raised, and arrive. What I am fond of her You may ask "You sure it is only one thing?" I'd say "It sure is not." If you allow me to Continue my poetry, I'd say that I'm sure She does not do this consciously, But, every time we speak The longing she makes me wait For all the little, short phrases She produces, Makes me fall again Into these deep oceans of Inexistent time that is Below my feet and my hands. She makes me defy time All the time, And for that, For and by her I shall be.

(Víctor Lemes) From a distance I saw you going down In a swirl Of paradigms. Your inner-self Was sinking deep Within the waves. I couldn't see it And just stand still; You could've been me. So I sailed to you, To soon discover You drowning. I offered you a rope Thus, I could pull you up; You see, I don't know How to swim... The moment I decided To bring you up aboard Of my ship, a creature Underneath the water appeared: A mermaid had rescued you. She'd saved you before I did. You're such a treasure that I shall keep you on my only chest.

(Víctor Lemes) Beneath the ground, It lies deep in the dense waters; It has been there, lost, since last Evening. The octopus I admire. Such an octopus, it may be ordinary For the rest of everybody. Though, I ain't everybody As it knows. What makes this octopus unique, You wonder. I may state the Obvious truth of it. For eight is the number of its Tentacles. For eight is the years We are apart; yet, so close.

(Víctor Lemes) "... and I shall not ever do it." Indeed, I shall not for there is No manner to do such act, Nor there ain't no willing Regarding whether doing it. "... and I shall miss thee." Do carry my words with thyself For they are my own only, Unique as I am fond of thee speaking. "... thou realise thy shiny eyes today?"  For thee must to; they both reflect Thy light upon my Tiw days. I wish thou read all the verses I am unable to write thee...

(Víctor Lemes) Awesome would be The word to define Her own thoughts About her inner self. Must I say I feel A little dyslexic Today… I could call her By many names, Although, tonight She is Ms. M to me. I wonder why She perhaps finds herself Not a beautiful person… Maybe she is sick Of being the best In every single aspect On her own life. That might affect Exponentially Her relationships Among other human beings; Must I say I feel Glad for not being One of them… She also claims She has no creativity; I particularly find that Amazing. Maybe I borrowed it From her, tonight.

(Víctor Lemes) I suppose I had better become the eternal poet once more instead of trying to become the persons I have written on each of my verses. There shan't be another chance For my inner self is lost And yet is eager to be found By whom loves him best. One must do whatever fits Best to the life he might be leading; Few have got the gift of sincerity, Fewer have got the honesty To blantly speak their words To the world without talking,  Just versifying. What is there, whoever is  All the Rest of me, I have become The Eternal Poet Forever more. 

(Víctor Lemes) I wander wondering, is there any wand yet to conjure my wonderful self?

(Víctor Lemes) The promise is broken; In the middle of the woods The clear sky still cries Its tears through the leaves. There shall be no heaven to me For I forget though not forgive. Whether love may not be Entirely within thee, Upon thy errand Before you I stand Unwavering. The sorrow is here By the nightstand Of my king.

(Víctor Lemes) With my fingers folded Like preparing a fist, I touch your warmed Cheeks and I can feel 'em melt. Leave your hair as it Always is; leave it there Let it grow longer, or Cut it shorter--I wouldn't mind. Each time you flew away My soul would fly along. Each time I would open the gates Of my heart so you could land safely. There is no reason to be the same As others; although that is your dream To be, I shall not stand in your way, For the first time I'll pray. I would rather not knowing Whenever you return. You see, I'm not in love, Yet I enjoy seeing you smile.

(Víctor Lemes) Thunder claps in the end of a scene Clouds float away in the blue sky Birds fly away the nervous wind And I am drowning in the deep blue sea. The wound starts bleeding For I shall remain dreaming.

(Víctor Lemes)  Many things have I learned Throughout these few months, Some of them were ‘ridiculous’, Others were like ‘Future Perfect Continuous’: Challenging, but not difficult. I have also learned that ‘To be’ has never been a verb! And that is good to be ambitious; In fact, it is delicious! I have learned that ‘Already’ is placed where ‘not’ Would be. And what comes Before the expression ‘other way’ Is a ‘the’. I learned we are all Noiseless patient spiders, Tirelessly speeding and unreeling Our filaments, filaments, and filaments. And I shall thank each of you In this room for the experiences We have shared, The good memories we shall Never forget. I do not wish nor hope, I neither expect nor wait; I just look forward to Meeting each of you one day.

(Víctor Lemes) I am the kind of person who believes in dreams, in co-creations. And believing in which, when I usually wake up in the morning I think: 'What will my motto be like today?'. It can be anything, something stupid or something smart, something blue or something black, something delightful or something sad. This morning I woke up with this feeling of emptiness. It's only normal, I created that situation for myself. At some point I decided to offer everything I had to a girl who was not prepared nor willing to receive all that. I don't blame her, though. It was her free will. Her mind is still young. Anyway, my motto for the next eleven hours is 'a day of giving up'. My love had never been so true before I met her. My love shall never end once it has been created. Funny stuff: this blog was named before as 'turning over new leaves', and that is what I am about to to right now. Turning over these leaves. Farewell, Mr. Autumn.