segunda-feira, 18 de outubro de 2010

Canção para Daphinie


descansa
no silêncio branco
da folha de papel
a poesia

descansa onde as folhas caem
onde amansa o açoite das águas
descansa nos olhos de Daphinie

na voz do vento
na  música da chuva
na ternura das asas

no outro lado impenetrável das coisas
no murmúrio das horas
no mar, no sol, na lua, nas ruas

na ânsia de quem espera o amor que não vem

descansa
a poesia
nuinha em flor...



Ivan Petrovitch

domingo, 21 de fevereiro de 2010

some haikus

the brief butterfly

on the barbed wire fence lies

resting from her flight





the blue butterfly

in the swamp floats about

message from beyond




on the sparkling wire

the petals try to mate

butterflies procriate




reborn from the ashes

in the illusion of my nest

I try to hug the world




pine trees awaiting

in the silence of silences

the end of winter



petrô




sábado, 26 de julho de 2008

To explain myself

I was born in Londrina,south of Brazil, in 1959.
The careful reader perceives that each poem given contains a message, an invaitation to reflect, a dive into profound man.

"I fought with the absence of feeling, with the silence of the world, i received what i did not hope for, i was happy when i saw the non-being become reality.."

Ivan Petrovitch


" Paradise is not a special place in the past or future , it is not in a specific region, or another dimension, it is within us..."

ivan Petrovitch


MY POETRY


A Season for Paradise


This night
Will not be
Merely any night

Words will spring to life
Each gesture will state
A feeling
And the convergence of our bodies
Will forge in the vastness of the cosmos
A light both fleeting and
Free
Vacant wind eternal
Vacant wind foremost
Vacant wind
God
This night
Will not be
Merely any night
There will be a new star in the heavens…

Ivan Petrovitch



BECOMING


We have to dance overtop abysses
To laugh at everything and everyone
We have to overcome the here and now
To be a bridge and not the end
We have to dwell with uncertaninty
To doubt, to doubt, to doubt
Everything is open to question
Values, concepts and precepts
“balance” and madness
most noble sentiments
science, history, religion,
nothing, absolutely nothing,
can be deemed “final”
finishing is atrophying stagnating, dying...

Ivan Petrovitch




SUBTLETIES


The sun set on the horizon
I became alone, only myself, nature
Longing

I waited for you each moment
The night came, it came so dark
So cold


Ivan Petrovitch



OCTOBER FLOWERS

Afternoons are sad
for october flowers

tenuous threads
the lightest breeze
can fell them

tenous threads
the strongest feeling
can strangle them

sad afternoons are so beautiful
for october flowers


Ivan Petrovitch



POESOPHY

happy is the man
who knows how to change
superficiality
by the essence of things
in the lightness of being
he is not influenced
by appearances

he knows that the value of flight
is not measured by the take-off
speed
much less its itinerary

the value of flight
is nothing more
it is the flight itself

Ivan Petrovitch


REFLECTION

Silence and reflection!!
plazas that perturb
beautiful, ornate plazas, stage plazas
plazas that perturb
plazas replete with children
verses so sad, e x t e n d e d , defenseless
well-nigh dead!!

Silence and sadness!!

Ivan Petrovitch


QUITTANCE

without meaning to
life
make us
experts in the art of
quittance

people, places. Feelings
are lovely droplets
slowly they slide down petals
rolling, rolling
they fall...


Ivan Petrovitch



Man

Sweating, downtrodden man
Tired, desecrated man
Long-suffering man
Tell me your tale
Tell me of your philosophy
What steers your steps?
Are you trouble? Are you distressed?
Tell me, oh tell me what ails you
Stay not speechless
Your silence nettles me
I grasp at guilt in your anguish
All right then, i will try to understand...
Thou canst not speak
Words escapeth thee, right?
Words?
But why words anyway?
Your appearance tells all
Thou art a common page
Going by man
The pain man
Thou art every one of us
We are you
Common pages
Merely common pages
Nothing more.

Ivan Petrovitch



ATTEMPT

to no avail
inebriate clock hands
longed to petriofy
moments of love

little did they know
all time
is pregnant time
things have purport
not only for what they are
but for while they are

despite suchlike fragility
there is a pellucid point
in the gesture of those
who dwell on
attempting to stop the flow of
a river
these folks are for whom
pigeons lionger
until twilight


Ivan Petrovitch



another

A
Void
Getting drunk
On another...

If were not enough
To long
As i long
For God

Now is too much,
To long
For myself!!!

Ivan Petrovitch


video