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Expression of Feelings

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Expression of Feelings

Here and now I am, composing a dream, what a delirium. On the way here, I remembered my father, seeing the World Cup station. My dad went before. And seven years have passed, Mom is gone too. It hurts.
Tears come, wetting, watering my eyes. And, the dream of what she would be like here. Would Dad still continue to sell his sweets at Sussumu Hirata? Would Mom still knit and tend the garden like only she could?
I don't know, I only know that now, almost 10 a.m., in the IAMSPE psychiatry outpatient clinic on July 18th, I am composing a poem. The pain of remembering hurts. But I also think of Japa, a gentleman driver for the 509J-Mobibrasil, who passed away twenty-four years ago for no apparent reason. Inconsequential, I don't know if the time has come.
And, when it comes, we make excuses for Sister Death. I wonder now, what will become of the dog Tequila, whom he cared for? Only God knows the answer.
And here I am, with my constant questions.
Handwritten in São Paulo, July 18, 2025, on the 2nd floor of the Psychiatry Outpatient Clinic - Iamspe, 10:01 AM
This poem was rewritten for the 10th anniversary anthology of the Minas Gerais Academy of Fine Arts, sent to Literarte on the evening of July 18.
The only observation: instead of sweets, I wrote "candy." And today I'm transcribing it for the websites Recanto das Letras and Etastic.
Another observation: Mr. Roberto Kendi's family adopted Tequila.
We try to find excuses for death, but when God calls us, only He knows the day and hour.
I offer it to Dr. Arthur Bezerra of Iamspe

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