Useless - Inútil

Amar-Rama

Precisas de um trago

Ou de um golinho?

Me fala,

Nunca se sabe,

Posso por acaso ter,

Exatamente o que precisas...

Tens o que eu preciso?

Ah!

Supostamente não devemos

Precisar de nada.

Entendo,

Inútil devemos ser todos.

Deus nos livre precisar de

Qualquer coisa que o

Outro tenha em abundância o que nos custa faltar...

Deus nos livre de não ter

Que pagar pelo que não temos.

~Jesus pagou caro

Pelo que temos

Para que possamos vender ou dar?~

Foi isso?

Entendi bem?

Custa o quê, quanto?

Uma lágrima,

O pão de cada dia?

Digno de morrer por entre os ladrões,

Que Irônico e romântico,

Soul mesmo Jesus para ser tão gentil...

Ele perdoou os ladorões

Para que os roubados continuem roubando?

Eu não o trato como gostaria de ser tratado.

Estou a zombar de Jesus,

Rindo dele todos os dias,

Dedadas para a sua salvação.

Pois, se ele não me salvou mesmo,

Se não me salvou da primeira vez,

Devo eu confiar numa segunda?

Que Jesus de conversa fiada,

Ele deve ser mesmo uma piada,

Ou sou eu, por sonhar com a sua volta.

Ele Vive em mim como deixou bem claro

Ou eu o estou matando como fizeram os romanos...

Los hermanos,

Ainda bebem?

Ainda roubam?

Onde encontram paz mis Hermanos?

Pulsing my heart it asks...

How glad am I do be asked?

Água into Vino.

Ignoro.

Ignoro o que nunca é suficiente,

Para que eu continue a saborear

O que me falta...

E eu gosto do que me falta,

Como Jesus, também sou um tanto romântico.

Um tanto insignificante,

Para que eu esteja sempre

Precisando que ele volte...

Deus me livre de estar aqui sem precisar Dele.

Afinal, de que valeria sua Vida?

Sua suposta ida...

Prefiro saborear de seu vinho,

Roubando sua essência,

Seu gozo,

Seu delírio de mim...

Devo ser mesmo um desastre,

Gozando sem fim o que já morreu e

Repetindo o que amo odiar...

Pois ainda não posso odiar

O meu Amar...

-Djanine

Seletiva - Selective

Nenhuma Suruba (mental ou corporal)

Vamos aqui,

No livrinho procurar,

O que eu falei e não quero falar.

“Okay, você venceu, Batatas Fritas.”

~A minha liberdade de escolha é,

Bem seletiva.

Já a de alguns outros,

So depende de uma vír-gula.~

Repare,

Nem todos sentem gula.

“Inpiraçao” vazia,

Melhor ler a bula.

Inspiração, Inspiração,

Você nunca me deixa na mão...

Ou deixou? 
Para quê tanta confusão?

E para tantas coisas servem as mãos,

Pense outra vez,

Para não usar em vão.

Tu as usa para teus talentos,

Ou para tua frustração?

No meu caso aqui,

Em con-texto são as duas,

Escrevendo frustracão.

E as tuas?

Qual a tua conclusão?

Trepando no banheiro,

Ou com piadinhas no meio do salão,

Virou tudo uma grande suruba,

Quem disso faz coração?

Abra roda,

Senta aqui.

Falemos TODOS abertamente,

Sobre tudo que está ali.

Não precisa embalar com véus,

Nem dizer que ensinou-me a amar,

Assim.

~O Amor, pulsa dentro do meu peito,

E ele Vive em mim...~

-Djanine

NOW, CLICK ON THE WORD -FUCK- BELLOW.

AN INDISPENSABLE LESSON!

THAT'S MY GRANDMA'S, Luzinete Assunção, MESSAGE FROM THE DEAD REALM.

ENJOY IT.

Djanine Assunção

P.S.

SHE MEANS IT!

December 11th 2023

Carriage - Carruagem

Carriage

Wine sweet wine,

No truth is told in cruelty,

They’ve told you fragments of lies and,

Lies can’t be whole, here.

Where there is torment,

There is also judgment.

Who is the judge though?

Observing or believing so?

They help themselves,

You help me,

I left them free,

What is it worth to me?

Veils are beautiful only be-cause,

They look for something in them.

Not in them,

For as long it’s identified elsewhere, browse.

Regardless of sides,

Crying some days,

Tears are washing old notions,

Love isn’t cruel, Truthful it may…

~My language is Love,

My touch is gentle,

My approach relentless,

For I know Whom I want…~

Eventful.

I’ve seen it all,

Not all through your eyes yet,

Saved it for Love,

Saved it for Complementing,

Without taking it from you, Above.

Fast or Slow,

Love you, Love to Feel,

‘What-ever’ you call Love…

Bullying me twists of partials stories,

Not new.

Transmitting Ideas and Hiding others,

So only they can see,

The Love between you and me,

 But not us, aqui…

Controversy to sabotage,

“Miracles” of mirage,

For the chocolate We spoke of,

Hasn’t been made yet,

Carri-age.

Nothing more unkind to the heart yet,

I can Think of plenty of unkindness,

Plenty of candles,

Wanting the same,

They dream of taking from me,

But I have no name…

Not knowing I’ve given equally,

Have they?

Have He?

Have you kept your heart clean,

When they weave to torture me?

Wanting nothing,

Saying nothing,

Justification for explanation,

Remember, vultures can’t sing…

-Djanine

Bell - Sino

Cooking Open Brain Shells Spell

(For "Doctors" That Can't Take a -No- For An Answer From Their Lucid/Artistic/Creative/Loving Patients)

~As I walk by the beach that once was covered in crude oil and I pick up the shells full of meat to cook and eat as I have done so many times as a child, I think of what my guides have in store for me... I wonder what they are up to, today.~

I find them one by one and I'm not counting because I remember how many times I dreamed of doing that with my children, Beatriz and Lukas... I once felt so proud of my simple and magic world... I could find food inside hard shells and that was always fascinating to me...

When I get back to my improvised office, I find out that ~I brought with me exactly 20 of them...

I brought an empty shell too and I placed it on my guide's alter...

My Guide Thanked Me And We Felt Glad For What We've Found...~

Then, I got a phone call from someone that I know for many years and she insists in ignoring my claims about everything that has happened to me and my family for many years now...

It makes me so sick, all I want is to puke with disgust and anger...

So, guided by my loving fairies, I cooked the brains of the "Dr.'s" obsessed with their own ideas that I do not have guides, much less that I am allowed to talk to them and hear what they have to say...

Ironically, a profession based on the ability to listen to your patients and understand their needs on a profound level, these so called "doctors" are totally incapable of doing exactly that. All the while that they continue to use yours and mine art/creativity/spells/sensibility/stories and trades to feed their sick ego's...

~I ate their brain's matter and it had no seasoning. 

At such point of my degustation, I heard my cousin's voice saying that the brain that the "Dr." will eat, before he dies, tastes much better...~

Bon Appétit!

Djanine Putin

August 30th 2022

P.S. I Hate You

Carnaval and Halloween

(Listening To NF Real Music - Outcast)

Carnaval and Halloween

Self-Respect, what a tricky thing.
Are we tricking or treating ourselves?
Denying longings or embracing them?
They're there for a reason,
Clarity or confusion.
Would you not share your candy?
What's Halloween for if not to remind us that "sweetness" is a part of it?
How innocent to sweeten the cravings of our children...
Even if only for a day.
They grow up to forget what's like to taste chocolate without a care in the world...
Then somehow we eat it and hide it from them, so they don't indulge.
Yeah, controlling to control what we Love and "forget".
Chocolates turn into cigarettes, serious conditions, fake remedies...
Charity is the reason you share your candy or do you trade it like children do?
Have you gathered all of your "goodies" yet? What else is missing?
Children aren't concerned with the "value" of it but,
Their own earnings and preference in taste.
There seems to be enough for everyone, and next year they will do it again, gladly.
Wearing Masks as if then they have permission to be "different".
Their fantasies allowed at least once a year.
Cute, practicing wearing it for the rest of their adult lives but,
No fantasy is there, and no candy to earn and trade then...
Some of us never experienced the practice.
School thought us to "smile" for "business" instead.
Halloween is the trick there...
Carnaval is no different and we dress up, we play along, we wait for it.
Maybe it's the other way around.
Maybe everyday is a Circus and on Carnaval and Halloween we can finally be ourselves,
At least some of us will...
A forgotten favorite character,
Caricature of Fragments we deny the rest of the "time".
(Never minding, collected and perfectly "normal selves" acting better than Actors...)
How ironic!
Acting to remind us we are acting.
Mocking our innocence everyday, we are.
Learning to mock it better tomorrow - if we couldn't mask it well today.
"Crazy"- subject to the one day of the year we "allow" it to be or not be...
Any other day and it's "okay" to pretend.
I wonder if "our kids" are confused, embarrassed or tricking us too...
Are they really "fools" and oblivious to our "schizophrenic masks"?
Meanwhile, I Wonder what I'll be for Halloween.
Tricking and Treating myself to some Pumpkin,
Falling leaves I Love and Caffeine...

-Dja Putin

Leve & Chão - Light & Grounded

~Rei Onde Ninguém Habitava~

As ruas sem nenhum vulto, 

ninguém passava, 

vinha, 

ou ia a lugar nenhum.

Enquanto ela atravessava...

Os meus passeios eram os mais fascinantes. 

Nas ruas que ninguém andava.

Eu estava em casa e ninguém andava comigo. 

O medo que eu touxe para dentro de casa, 

e o silêncio nos lugares que eu bem conhecia... 

Cores de mustarda.

Mas o meu amor, a minha filha havia partido, 

entre eu e ela um continente de distância. 

A porta por onde ela entrava... 

Agonizava as ruas por onde eu nunca andara. 

Estavamos lá mais uma vez 

e desta vez, eu precisava resgastar a mim mesmo 

dos fantasmas que levei para casa.

Lá, eu como eu, já não era mapa, 

mas uma estranha rua de conhecidos piratas. 

Todos agonizavam o que eu temia que os perturbara, 

o que eu vendia antes que tudo fosse destruido 

no valor de minha cara.

O abandono se pronunciara, 

então eu perdia o contexto que procurava. 

Talvez ela precisasse mesmo saber por onde andava.

Tantos anos calçada com os meus pés, 

caminharam minha jornada.

Se eu morresse ali, 

morreriamos todos de uma triste e fatal apunhalada...

A chuva me convidava a dar passos para trás 

e para isso eu precisava destruir 

a casa que fiz em outra morada...

As gotas que pingavam do telhado me levaram de volta 

aos gritos de socorro pela tortura, 

e nada me amparou 

do outro lado das paredes que me cercavam.

Enquanto assistiam todos 

o desenrrolar de minha mão em um ou dois tapas, 

o meu corpo levitava. 

Porém, meu espírito visitante, afundava.

Demorou muito para se ouvir falar da filha despedaçada.

E o meu filho...

...Esse meu filho é rei, de onde ninguém habitava...

Djanine Assunção Tavares Queiroz Chaves Putin Stalin

(Poema Escrito Em Maio 7 de 2022)

Purple Noses - Narizes Roxos

 

Here again, idem,  
Notre, mayhem!
How sweet indeed,
Pies of all tastes, deeds.
Flavors of awaken fruits,
Eat it all,
Torn and fall,
WHOM said it isn't? Medieval...
So much for grace unspoken,
Indifferently growing vines of eternity,
Branches broken...
You think they care?
Caring pays off? No one aware!
Bring offerings to marble alters,
Surely they may grow, if you never falter.
Is it good enough? (it never is)
Turn right back, check it again,
In case you doubt it.
Remember mayhem...
She tells the truths you won't say,
How heart-breaking and dismay.
Love not today...
Bitter is only so tasteful for display.
Woman so very mellow is only in drama...
Ask her in public,
Where is her day?
Be ready for tantra... Blue mantra...
Laughing is there for dawn,
Purple veil not in Leon...

-Dja Putin

Entusiasmo - Enthusiasm

 

Intention - Intenção

 

Blanket - Cobertor

Crafting loving blankets...
May they comfort happy dreams.
Cozy embrace we know well,
Tender words smiling anew, it seems...
Carefully made, stories weaved,
Treads of colors we named.
Sweet kisses given for free,
Present on patches, chosen by good taste,
Our taste, we're finally here.
Warm and ready for stains of future use,
Connecting shapes as if 'theirs' were meant to fit...
They fit like paint to canvas,
Cotton and details never before seen,
Shhh, and for a very good reason, listen to me.
Front and Verse, depth through the shallow prints,
Porous breathing fabric...
Breathing under it, intense scent and magic,
Is it really magic or surely meant to be?
Sleeping was never so sweet, saudades and melody...

- Dja Putin