Edilson Afonso Ferreira is a Brazilian poet who writes in English rather than Portuguese. Recent works have appeared in Red Wolf Journal, Right Hand Pointing, Creative Talents Unleashed (Featured Poet), Indiana Voice Journal, The Lake, Young Ravens, Synesthesia, Every Day Poems, and Dead Snakes. His works can be seen at www.edilsonmeloferreira.wordpress.com.
Fears and Feelings
There are certain weekends and holidays
when I feel myself somewhat insecure.
I worry if walking ghosts have not occupied
the void of empty streets and closed doors,
looking at me as an intruder or suspicious
on their ways.
I miss hearing the sound of hammers and
hoes, the strident come and go of saw blades,
the brushing of pens on paper or keyboards
being typed throwing feelings to the world.
I love the imprecations of painters and artists
when they can’t find the pure art they look for.
I love children screaming through the sidewalk,
running endless races only they are capable of.
I love the noise of people on streets and alleys,
corners and places,
moving to destinies only they are aware of,
hard struggling to make their lives a story.
I love hearing someone making something,
even if it is the buzzing of bees.
Forever Human Generations
We founded churches, schools, hospitals,
we created priests, teachers, and physicians;
some of us we acclaimed kings and judges,
some others, beggars, and prisoners.
We care for our children instilling in them
those dreams we were not able to fulfill.
We have changed our course many times,
both on the road and on our minds,
so little different from those primitive hordes,
turning to the wind like one ship of old sailors.
We have never had even that natural gift of birds,
who know by birth their journeys and returns
by each season of their lives.
Saints and sinners, side by side, we write our history,
which someday it will be read and they will know that,
if we lacked wit and sapience,
it has never lacked a plenty of love.
A love full of disappointments, but blended with the joy
of alone colonizing a planet given to unknown ancestors,
what, despite life’s scars, has been always handed
Fears and Feelings
There are certain weekends and holidays
when I feel myself somewhat insecure.
I worry if walking ghosts have not occupied
the void of empty streets and closed doors,
looking at me as an intruder or suspicious
on their ways.
I miss hearing the sound of hammers and
hoes, the strident come and go of saw blades,
the brushing of pens on paper or keyboards
being typed throwing feelings to the world.
I love the imprecations of painters and artists
when they can’t find the pure art they look for.
I love children screaming through the sidewalk,
running endless races only they are capable of.
I love the noise of people on streets and alleys,
corners and places,
moving to destinies only they are aware of,
hard struggling to make their lives a story.
I love hearing someone making something,
even if it is the buzzing of bees.
Forever Human Generations
We founded churches, schools, hospitals,
we created priests, teachers, and physicians;
some of us we acclaimed kings and judges,
some others, beggars, and prisoners.
We care for our children instilling in them
those dreams we were not able to fulfill.
We have changed our course many times,
both on the road and on our minds,
so little different from those primitive hordes,
turning to the wind like one ship of old sailors.
We have never had even that natural gift of birds,
who know by birth their journeys and returns
by each season of their lives.
Saints and sinners, side by side, we write our history,
which someday it will be read and they will know that,
if we lacked wit and sapience,
it has never lacked a plenty of love.
A love full of disappointments, but blended with the joy
of alone colonizing a planet given to unknown ancestors,
what, despite life’s scars, has been always handed
to welcome and hopeful new generations.
Earthly Love
I know there is a final day for my life on earth.
I have striven to earn the prize of the righteous,
which is, after death, living in the Paradise.
But, oh my God, I love so much this planet
You granted to us from so earliest ages!
I love every sunrise, every new day calling me
on joining forces to open new work fronts.
I love that scarlet red sunset that announces
the early evening, enchanting and bewitching
haunted nights always full of beautiful women,
loving sisters of our race, only found here,
nowhere else.
I learned to love hard and harsh the way
we were condemned to gain our bread,
since the disobedience of our forefathers.
I think I will never be able to say goodbye
to this homeland, mine and of all of us.
Perhaps, if I come to deserve an eternal life,
may You leave me here, enchanted as an elf
or a fairy, forever feeling its brown ochre scent,
around sinful, yet amorous brothers and sisters.
Edilson Afonso Ferreira
Earthly Love
I know there is a final day for my life on earth.
I have striven to earn the prize of the righteous,
which is, after death, living in the Paradise.
But, oh my God, I love so much this planet
You granted to us from so earliest ages!
I love every sunrise, every new day calling me
on joining forces to open new work fronts.
I love that scarlet red sunset that announces
the early evening, enchanting and bewitching
haunted nights always full of beautiful women,
loving sisters of our race, only found here,
nowhere else.
I learned to love hard and harsh the way
we were condemned to gain our bread,
since the disobedience of our forefathers.
I think I will never be able to say goodbye
to this homeland, mine and of all of us.
Perhaps, if I come to deserve an eternal life,
may You leave me here, enchanted as an elf
or a fairy, forever feeling its brown ochre scent,
around sinful, yet amorous brothers and sisters.
Edilson Afonso Ferreira