noise, peace (english poetry)

Y’all, I’ve been reading too much American poetry, so I’m going through this mixed phase of modernism and romanticism, I hope something good comes out of this because its certainly weird for me to write like this. Disclaimer: bulletless doesn’t seem to be a real word, but I don’t get why, so I’m gonna use it anyway. Disclaimer 2: I’ve since revised the second part of the poem, so if you’re reading for a second time, you may find it different than the original. If you seek the original, you can find it here. JOHNNY Advertisements

(Vault) ARPA DIOS

Today was a specially hard day, I carried pain with me. And sometimes, days are sad, and I don’t know why. I vaulted this composition a while ago, when I wrote it, I deemed it not good enough for sharing. Now, despite not being any better, it looks more heartfelt than ever. JOHNNY

Portugal: hills of sun-painted sadness.

Not everyone has the honour of living in an award-winning country, or better yet, not everyone considers that an honour. I was born in a small parish with 110 inhabitants just outside Lisbon, and my youth was paved with finding small water streams among fabled stretching woodlands, watching my grandfather plant potatoes all the while leaning on our dogs and watching the verdant sunset sink. I look back fondly at those memories, and my circle of social life was restricted by those hundred familiar faces all into my teenage mists. When I was a docile and sensitive boy, one thing was generally known, we were an enclave of the modern world, a tender collapse between edging western development and a deep connection to land, humility, poverty, and pain. In the yet-to-explore sacred and scarlet hills of Portugal, we roamed the sun-lands searching for an oasis that spawned the entire rectangle garden planted sea-side. We quested for a beauty that was

read more Portugal: hills of sun-painted sadness.

PERENNIAL GLADE

A friend nicknamed me Crowbard, because I have dark features and I write lyrical poetry. It’s funny because it’s a pun with crowbar, I’m very happy with this nickname. If you missed Johnny’s classical exacerbated parataxis, ta dah! Although short, it was great writing it, because I too missed parataxis overloads.

WINDSWEPT (english poetry)

A bit messy and all-over-the-place, this one is another experimental work. I’m trying this “therapeutic poetry” thing, hence why I haven’t published, I’ve been doing it mostly in Portuguese. This one, however, I liked. It’s not great but I hope you gather something from it. JOHNNY

MELANCOLIA (english poetry)

I believe that there isn’t a single poet in history that hasn’t composed about melancholy, it’s a feeling so natural to artists in general. Or even people, it feels very humane to miss. Of course, being the uncreative Johnny I take such joy in being, I had to compose my own take on melancholy with my specific “drawn out” style I’ve been recently nurturing. Anyways, I hope you see something new in this! JOHNNY