PUER AETERNUS

I'd like to meet:

Phoenix

Heaven is a pretentious scheme.
Nihilism's a binary sequence.
An ode to freedom and decadence.
We should hold our hands around the globe,
And create a huge circle of Humanity.
Babel without bricks or cement.
The Apocalypse would be faster
As our souls begun to clash.
From the ashes Alma Mundi would gather,
Like someone's pressed a Reset button.

Pedro Santos Abusive Poetry 2008

Yellow Post-It

You better get the fuck away when I start burning my insides.
The stink of loneliness is not really disgusting, but some people feel uncomfortable.
Another anesthesic for despair.
Another someone in the passenger seat, through the carpool line of life.
One chooses its habits.
I'm nobody to judge you.
A yellow post-it says "Tomorrow". But I've been feeling “Yesterday" since we met.

Pedro Santos Abusive Poetry 2008

The Ockham's Razor

Empty metaphors are blunt razors.
How can you say I'm bluffing pre-flop,
If I've cut myself several times into fine pieces?
Let me enjoy the hope of my pocket Aces.
"My money says he ain't going nowhere."

Pedro Santos Abusive Poetry 2008

Inertia Selling

Lethal petals
Are ticking me inside.
Beating at sixty per minute:

Wrong, right, wrong, right, wrong, right...

You can't shoot the same bullet twice.
I wish I could,
Maybe something different would start.
Factual illusions made by reflections in the sky:
I can see them but I can't hold' em. They just keep falling apart:

Wrong, right, wrong, right, wrong, right...

I'm growing new instincts,
Or are these feelings released from pride?
They keep constantly whispering:
"You should be by her side".

Wrong, right, wrong, right, wrong, right...

Time means gold
When one avoids what he wants the most.
Sell my minutes for a dime.
After all I am afraid to act.
I cannot give what I cannot buy:

Wrong, right...
Wrong?
Right?

Can I shoot this bullet twice?

Pedro Santos Abusive Poetry 2008

We Are The Humans

Self aggression is oppression,
Represents your inner self as guilty:
Of the things you can't deal with;
Of the fears you can't face.
Self aggression is a misunderstood intention,
That will lead you to disgrace.

Fall from the high peaks of disappointment,
Without even spread your wings.
Fail to open your mouth,
When your mind is haunted with screams.

To reveal sincerity may be painful,
When putting a mask will do the work.
Choke in commotion is just pretty weird,
When you're pretending being the though

Being a man means sometimes being sad,
And we should take it for granted.
After all we're the only animals
Who have the reason to establish a path:
- To eager for a brighter future;
- To learn with the mistakes from the past.

Pedro Santos Abusive Poetry 2008

Drown In Sorrow

Once again you're alone:
Talking to your own reflection,
Mumbling about disasters,
Afraid to stop the fade.

Is it fate? Is it fate?
Is time, ticking fast,
For fast losing game?

One more stone thrown to the pond:
Defying the numb waters
Hiding another disasters
Dead, but alive of shame.

Is it fate? Is it fate?
Is time, ticking fast,
For fast losing game?

Regrets as shatters:
Brown muddy waters,
Come to tides overwhelming matters
In the shape of dusty chapters,
Regarding only blame.

Is it fate? Is it fate?
Is time, ticking fast,
For fast losing game?

Gorgeous, garganteous, greedy:
Hold myself from bleeding,
Meaning more than blinding pitty
"Adjectives give me winds to fly!"
Because my nouns are lost,
Under the thin cold frost,
Where Hope comes to drown and die.

Pedro Santos Abusive Poetry 2008

Unchangeable

You breathe air
I breathe sulphure
Your constant stare
Is my concrete torture

I say "Let it flow"
You say "Future
Your affected "I know, I know!"
Is my inside rupture

"I want more!" you called
I rather stay warm
Your sins are white
Compared to my thoughts
We once shared a view:
But I'm still obscure
You're raw and nude,
Dawn of bright mood

Forget the odds
Forget the stars:
Immersed in fogs
Perpetuated in wars,
Eviscerated feelings
Getting old to scars
Barb wired secrets
Could hurt your heart

You brand new
Me a scar:

Time
Fog
Apathy

I'm keeping all the parts...

Pedro Santos Abusive Poetry 2008

Android

Fill in the blank
With fake ink
Create a purpose
Mechanically don't think
Avoid the damage
Of what you've done
Create a message
Before the template is gone

Bits and Bytes
Errors and Restarts
It's all a matter of time

Knowledge is now Universal
The lack of interest is Personal
Set your soul in the wire
Live in the dark
Cozy without fire
Fingering the sparks
Creating spam marks
Who cares what is truth?
Who cares what is not?

I can see clearly
Through this bright window
Breathing from a fan
Chewing the mail income
You're part of me now
Without you I can just be myself
Nurture me with white noise
Save my senses from the mess

Pedro Santos Ad Eternum 2009

Postponed

Is this kind of reflection the truth, about this conversation?
Because I’m looking at a mirror which cannot lie.
You deserve the kindness of angels.
Instead you’ve chosen the senses of a creature almost blind.
It’s odd how things look so different.
Odd how things feel so lame.
Odd is certainly the distance, through things that we never made.
If we throw our souls into despair, who else is going to be aware?
Who else could solve this jigsaw, made of pieces intended to spare?
Should we call it a day, and maybe try again tomorrow?
With a bitter taste in our mouths, things could not taste more awful.

Pedro Santos Ad Eternum 2009

The Carved Curse

The rigor was not settled, although the skin showed blue.
The nurse undressed the patient and found an upper arm tattoo.
Without too much curiosity, but in consideration to the dead,
She touch the picture with her fingers, feeling the work was still fresh.
A pattern well carved and blushed showed a skull crossed with two knives.
In the bottom was written the words: “Never scream to what is silent”
So the nurse kept quiet and proceeded, but felt uneasy of what she'd read:
“What a strange thing to paint in the body?” and slowly closed the zippered bag.
That night walking home a man made her stop in the sidewalk.
In a whispering crispy voice he asked: “Sugar, could you spare me some light?”
“No sir, I sure not do. Smoke is bad for you health.”
“Being so considerate too!” said the male as she held her breath.
The other day a woman was reported by a local, being found by the river.
Someone called the paramedics which took her to the closest clinic.
Another nurse removed her clothes stained with blood and slime.
Astonished she read out loud the words: “Wrong tips took my time.”

Pedro Santos Ad Eternum 2009

Live But Unrecognizable

Nobody, nobody, nobody,
I can't reach anybody because I'm numb.
Too much void makes me dumb.
Too much of my body: makes no one.
I sweep stains from my shirts
And trade them for medals
Because I'm worthy of cleansing
And nothing can bleach my path.
That's the best part of being a winner
That's the worst part of being a loser.
I am a Weiner without balls.
Straight to the gutter
Slaughterhouse without sanitation
All that comes remains as trophies
For the best bounty hunters: soulless fleshy gruesome.
It paints red in the dark.
Shoves the pain in the attic,
Perhaps kills the noise of the heart remains a killer with no harm.
Loveless streams, like plague winds.
Bitrates of dawn,
Dragging the ground with nails, rusty as chains.
Offline grains pixeling my stains.
Stealing my medals.
Running away.
Keeping outstanding.
Irrecognizable from the grain.

I hate you so much.
I love me in vain.
I hate you so much.
I worship the taint.

Pedro Santos Ad Eternum 2009

Mirrors

Let me introduce you to no one.
Make yourself home.
You’re alone.
Make yourself bright.
I'm at no site.
Picture yourself in the mirror.
Even those from Carnival.
You're pretty.
You're handsome.
But I'm greedy,
And I'm looking from behind.
Can you see me now?
With my gazed eyes somehow?
Can you feel me now?
Hitching your neck from behind?
I kiss your thoughts.
They tasted wrong notes,
And awful quotes.
Naive annotations:
“What should I do in my spare time vacations?”

My harms around your chest,
Keep me smelling your breath:
Do I sense hesitation?
Do you need more embrace?
Can't you feel me but not see me?
I don't care.
I'm your disgrace.

And then you hit the streets.
Bright lights keeping the beats, and awkward conversations,
Are the comas from monologues,
In front of that many mirrors
You don't feel secure anymore.
Am I sure?

What happened to you?
That reflection is your world,
In the eyes of the wound
In the last words of the peasants,
Who once shared your sparks.
Are you happy?
Am I happy?

To see what's from behind?

Pedro Santos Ad Eternum 2009

The Sweetest Drug

When sleep becomes a drug
The hangover is being awake
Dealing with the reality
Sweeps the dreams with a rake
Forcing the self to be aware
Is just an awful measure
I just want to be under the sheets
And get rid of all other pressures
Facing the world with a blue mood
Will only paint things dark
And I'm one of those who dream
In colors, not in black and white
I wish you could come along
To this place that I call mine
But I bet you have your own spot
Where other reality takes you high
If death is the eternal sleep
Than it is certainly an overdose
A drug like this is free to keep
'Till the moment your eyes finally close

Pedro Santos Ad Eternum 2009