Darlan M Cunha

Darlan M Cunha Poems

The time burned in vain in the village square, because
on the only day the Dragon lowered his head
took the opportunity to comb their thin strands of hair
and it was his doom, because the Dragon's head

The girl is in no hurry,
oblivious to an averse horizon
to the disturbances inside her,
maybe for her the future is

Stroll and feel the power
of these arms, walls
stroll and feel the secrets
of an imaginary city

Here the lions come to drink water
and sometimes blood, water bearer
promising for predators.


The girl is in no hurry,
alien to a horizon inside out
to the disturbances within it,

Dear friend, all the people think you forget me.
Listen: How stupid do your parents thinks you are?
but I am waiting for you on the corner, oh
my name don't wear it out

I would like to travel beyond the end of everything,
searching for the genesis of the colors
and the bones of fear.

I don't know how many fears (sicks) I have
but she says: Prove you're not a robot
a pingback, a lunatic, a hacker
a beggar, downtime machine... yes, she said


Follow your nose
follow your sword (banner)
your word, your mutism
you're such a dog

Who? Nobody, nobody told me anything
about me, about you, both
suspected of weaving glories with Nothing,
so I would like you to stay there

A beautiful gray color in the hair
as a non-aggressive virus

so it's time to review times


The whale's fingerprints on man's irises
sitting on the boat, blue with blue

Repairing a sink, two, the refrigerator
is a headache, empty,
the government says it doesn't care about mothers
asking for help, even so

Certos convites devem-se a isto ou àquilo. Eis os teus
ombros, pões as mãos sobre outros, e o riso segue
as pernas trançadas e os braços já não se contêm
quase impudicos - à frente e dos lados e atrás de ti


After the verb never, and the blue noun,
which adjective will save the left side
of discouragement, written on the walls,
the right side of the armistice

For a while
impossible to measure

observed his surroundings

A shortcut quilt, either
the board where the chess players
are minimal
in the face of so much plot, be it

Don't talk about the dead
let them float

the Moors remained


Two raw, naked blues
the forehead flames
the mind under nausea

Back to the village
after a long and silent absence
returned with arms in arms
with a different speech

Darlan M Cunha Biography

I was born in Medina, in the State of Minas Gerais, Brazil. but I live in Belo Horizonte, the capital of the state. In my daily life I read, write, play guitar and go hiking, and I also like to cook. I go there, but you have to be aware of the surroundings. I've published some books on paper: Umma (novel,2011) , O Ar em seu Estado Natural - Textos sobre letras do Clube da Esquina (poems,2010) , Anda (poems,2008) , Esboços e Reveses: The Silence (poems,2008) . I wrote some songs: Not to mention I didn't talk about pain, A man talking with his buttons, Ybyrapyteruma (Pau-brasil) , Rats. Theater does not attract me: Greek theater, Costumes theater, No theater, Kabuki theater, but I am affectionate to Giramundo puppet theater - a Brazilian company -, and Thai shadow theater. The rest is figuration, empty stage, Nelson Rodrigues, Shakespeare, scatological sameness.)

The Best Poem Of Darlan M Cunha

The Dragon

The time burned in vain in the village square, because
on the only day the Dragon lowered his head
took the opportunity to comb their thin strands of hair
and it was his doom, because the Dragon's head
it's made of fire stars, and it's only dance oriented
if they are all in exact sync, multi-millenary
but men and women, because they are ephemeral,
conjugate all verbs in the past, in a hurry
inherent in them and them. The Dragon withered, lying is
and it may not recover, but if it succeeds, it will burn the village.

Darlan M Cunha Comments

Darlan M Cunha Quotes

* I am the same as yesterday; but different. Sou o mesmo de ontem; mas diferente.

Thief is time, that solves you every day. Therefore, watch the ravings of time.

Thinking too much makes the wheat wait, the soup gets cold. Thinking hurts. // Pensar demais faz o trigo esperar, a sopa esfriar. Pensar dói.

Ox and cow under the tree, and the silence as witness to their encounter with the tree and the lightning. Right time at the right place - they say.

Pensas ver o fundo, não do mundo. Enfim, engano é o que és, mimetismo sem aval. // You think you see the bottom, not the world. In short, deceit is what you are, mimicry without endorsement

Em tempo, já com as chaves na mão, lembra que nascer é todo dia. /// In time, with the keys already in hand, remember that being born is every day.

What's on my mind? Well... Between the salt mine and the sugar cane fields, everyday life is stuck: there is no third way, no unknown, virgin trail.

Two doubts, even fears, on the same trail; one way or another, the end of the trail exists. // Duas dúvidas, até medos, numa mesma trilha; de um modo ou de outro, o fim da trilha existe.

Já empunho, Senhor, o prazo que a mim mesma me dei de não me tornar apenas outra mulher desiludida. // I already draw, Lord, the deadline that I gave myself not to become just another disappointed woman.

If there is no escape, and if there is no reason to stay, what to do, if a third way doesn't seem to exist, if humans are stuck in dualities like sweet/sour, light/heavy, light/dark, hot/cold, good/bad, dry/wet?

Serve with the face open in a fan and fists closed the water in a sieve. // Servir com o rosto aberto em leque e com os punhos fechados a água numa peneira.

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