Autumn leaves...

Autumn leaves...

It's on the top of the trees
that I touch high the sky ...
It's on these leaves where birds are born, laugh,cry, live and die
that I dance and hide

It's on the top of the trees
That I stay strong
begging the wind to not let me go
It is there in that place, where my soul smiles
where I return
where I reborn

It is there that I am...

It is there and only there
that I feel happy again and again
one day at a time
every days of my life

P. RestlessMind x
Djurgården Sverige (out2016)

A litlle Bird Singing...

Reminder...

O meu Jardim...

Folhas de Outono

In Coma...

To Mario an old friend...

Today I went to the funeral of a close friend.
I knew Mario since my early teens and he was in many ways a big brother to me.
Throughout life we went different ways, different paths...
During this last 35 years here and then we accidentally saw each other and it was like time had no past and we have been walking side by side all the way.
In the lean and lonely corners of those moments we shared our sorrows and our joys.

Today I went to the funeral of a close friend
His family did not forget me
they wanted me there
I felt I had the right to be there.
This is memory
These are memories
These are good memories
This is a piece of him in me.

2016.09.20  R.I.P. my friend

P.RestLessMind x (2016)

Estranhamente...

Sleeplessness moments...

What comes next ?...

De dentro de Nós...

Gerald Freeman's Bookish Art Blog.: Where Does Inspiration Go?

Gerald Freeman's Bookish Art Blog.: Where Does Inspiration Go?: A great friend once told me that inspiration was 10% and 90% was work- I have worked on this poem, but it still has some way to go. The Cre...

I do not want to be remembered...

The Time...

I have been distracted by happiness...

being an artist ?...

Um pequeno pássaro a cantar...

Gerald Freeman's Bookish Art Blog.: Whispers In The Wind.

Gerald Freeman's Bookish Art Blog.: Whispers In The Wind.: What happens to thoughts That are not said, Whispered in secret To the wind instead? Seagulls catch them In their famished beaks, And sp...

King and Lord...

Rei e Senhor ...

Para o meu Amor...

Gerald Freeman's Bookish Art Blog.: Moving On

Gerald Freeman's Bookish Art Blog.: Moving On: I have decided to post the occasional inspired poem unedited- to be honest, if I post the finished product I cannot submit it to a literary ...

Gerald Freeman's Bookish Art Blog.: This can stop at any second.

Gerald Freeman's Bookish Art Blog.: This can stop at any second.: I am so afraid of poetry. It is the only thing I fear I will lose at any moment- it depends so much on feeling. With sculpture I feel safe a...

Gerald Freeman's Bookish Art Blog.: What breeds inspiration?

Gerald Freeman's Bookish Art Blog.: What breeds inspiration?: Eternal, internal dissatisfaction is what breeds inspiration. Not dissatisfaction with the present, or the past, nem o futuro- e o desconte...

Disconneting...

Infinity...

Quando o Nada é Muito...

Gerald Freeman's Bookish Art Blog.: Into The Abyss Again.

Gerald Freeman's Bookish Art Blog.: Into The Abyss Again.: Tomorrow I walk into The familiar abyss. How many times Have I been there? Tomorrow I will do something I am scared to do. As usual, I...

O Amor...

In the good and bad hours...

Nas horas boas e nas horas más...

Por entre vales e pradarias...

Gerald Freeman's Bookish Art Blog.: The Death Of A Poet.

Gerald Freeman's Bookish Art Blog.: The Death Of A Poet.: It was a bright sunny day and I had some hours off, so I decided to go and write a poem. I settled down in a warm spot in the centre of my h...

Gerald Freeman's Bookish Art Blog.: I Am Your Bird.

Gerald Freeman's Bookish Art Blog.: I Am Your Bird.: How can I save my most brilliant poems for the Lit journals to reject? This is the best poem I have written for a while- I hope you like it...

Flores e Champanhe...

Is there more to life than happiness?...

Hide and seek...

The next Me...

Changing Place...

Gerald Freeman's Bookish Art Blog.: Alone

Gerald Freeman's Bookish Art Blog.: Alone: In the silent stillness I am alone, yet filled with all the memories I have made. And they keep me warm. In fact, there are so many, I think...

Others will love the things I did Not love...

Outros Amarão as coisas que eu Não Amei...