The Epic Poem of the Darkness (117). So many and so many uniforms on the whole side. Luanda is a gigantic military barracks

I know now that after your farewell of the life

the love leaves tracks invisible, invincible

Taj Mahal and the Mausoleum of Halicarnassus don't overcome the magnificence

of your premature pubis hairy, where you wrote down

you appeared, you deflowered which dense forest of Maiombe

In the eternal wait of your return

maybe be to one minute, or light-year billions

in a distant one unknown. The distance that separates us

he gave cosmic wall, it will be in the next insured millenniums

When the coming ones proclaim the to reappear of the life

of the momentary suspended actual

For here every day everything is to be too violent

The storms, the winds, cross the largest battles

They break the History of these walls easily

You were my symphony, the harmony, before the agony

again of this sea

Of this to make green collapse. Until the birds they stopped flying

Everything dried. The forests, the woods, the rivers. They hid enchanting

of the already nothing exists to love. Everything is explained, frightened

in other dimension to hover. In the boundaries of the unconsciousness

of reducing again everything to powder

Another melody will be universalized when this Jesus Christ ends

and other to appear of the bottom of the waters

He is to be modelled, and this time forever

it will be freed. They won't hear parables, just her compassion glance

For the wicked ones, insistent believers, pardon won't exist

Great reconstruction, a gesture and a blessing

You were as the weeping of the jasmines, that I still conserve in the same song

in the bedroom of our retreat. When in ecstasies, hugged

stagnated in the windstorm that announced the first drops

of the close atmospheric agitation. Then well watered, frozen

How was it possible two disappear and only one to be body?

I still don't get to understand, where it went

what happened to the other being

My dream, the other dreams, finished

Only the nightmares began, they resumed. There is no future

while this government and their international allies

they persist in they reduce us to powder

To proceed what remains of the divine goes will collapse

I waste a long time in search of our lost words

when I relive the past in the iron

Each garment portrays moments of the days

After everything to finish, we fed lamenting

Where everything begins and it only finishes the death knows him

Where is, where you go reminds you of me

There is always a jasmine. He remodels our pastimes

with new thoughts. You found the eternal gardens

of the jasmines. He plants them, it waters them. Finally you have time

to find the due love. The paradise of the death is always awake

in my despair of living to the foot of you, so close

He delays, but I know that it will arrive, I will free myself

And only the death frees us

Here we continued in the to be born and to grow desperate,

chained wanted to jump over the mountains of the ferocious dictatorship

When a simple hill if it turns an insurmountable obstacle

We let to win us, to obey her any command voice

And obedient of fear we will never expire, we will never triumph

So many and so many uniforms on the whole side. Luanda is a gigantic military barracks

The Epic Poem of the Darkness (116). It finished the swindle of the independence, I washed clothes again. I got job as laundress

I heard a great scientist he to affirm that this is the civilization of the psyche,

the psyche of the money. Easier, to enrich fast

it is enough to remove a course of those that it explains as curing the mind.

We are to generate stupid children for psychiatric internment

There is a somatic degeneration due to the phobias

that they constantly devastate the mind.

It is almost a miracle to sleep in peace. The genetic functions lose temper

because the sleep doesn't get to be reparative

All are patient, we woke up at any moment of the night with nightmares

We didn't get to sleep plus, and if we insisted woke up with violent spasms

Because we didn't get to remove the concerns that dominate our brain

This, when the clarity of the day appears is as drunk

As if it has just gushed a whiskey bottle

In the attempt of helping is smoked a cigarette, later other

Next nights will be continuous as a virgin forest,

where appears excavating that deforest the reparative sleep of the nights

The exit appears: the tranquilizers that result in the beginning

but later they drain us the existence

Because peace doesn't exist for the mind

The generated children of this mutation without the planetary green,

that it existed, they receive the progenitors' gifts and her mission is very simple:

They destroy the neighbourhoods, the cities, the countries, the Earth

There is nothing… nor nobody that is not buried

In the commissions of the corruptions sectorials that fill

diluted them oilfields of the hunger

Oh! As you denature you

He finished the swindle of the independence

I washed clothes again. I got job as laundress

I wash and I starch. I returned to the colonial past because then! My fight with the tank

of scrubbing the fabrics it doesn't stop

I don't get to win the tank. There is always clothes to put him and to wash,

and to I iron to pass, to starch. You me she doesn't leave me of eating lunch

With hunger I leave weak, almost to faint

My White Jasmine! You went and you left, you abandoned me to your Jasmine of the Night

You were as a lute without Medium Age. You won't hear the hummingbirds

You won't see more the prodigy of the balance of yours to suck

Nor the hot tides that you extend, horizontal

And vertical under the growth of mangroves. They alarm, they call the crabs of the tides

That they uncover leave her of yours dig flooded

They walk as spiders in the tide-flood, marginal routine

You won't see me more to wave in the intense green of the grass. Without you, I felt

the last memory of my bikini. In the rocking frequency of the marine fragrance

Image: Etona. http://www.artistas.angoladigital.net/etona/index.htm#

The Epic Poem of the Darkness (115). A great world company of businesses is as a great church. The businesses have a religion, the church also

That it doesn't fear the darkness of the mind. In the doubt he approaches

and he asks in the aid, because if he sits down calm, dominated

Just with the presentation of a vulgar cross

kings, princes, great gentlemen were dominated

Because he won't have to continue like this?

The truth is the eternal fear of the things, and who ventures to discover them

the Road that leads her God, will have fateful consequences

Because who discovered him first, those are the elect ones

and no god admits competition

A powerful company what the world dominates accepts other in the market?!

No! Because that is disloyal! They assist their defenders immediately

hiring the best lawyers. They are the occult secrets of the religious cults

A great world company of businesses is as a great church

The businesses have a religion, the church also

So that, as we are all blind, we are impeded of seeing

The wheat fields planted that our feet delimited by the mined fields

of the history of the infamy they dash pamphleteers:

NOBODY MORE STEALS! JUST US! ME!

The silence of the night is interrupted by the polluted shouting, made drunk

for the hypocrisy of the Occident that fakes, it supports, it tyrannizes the republics of the petroleum

that they exterminate us. Where are they, where are the Angolan intellectuals!?

They got lost offshore and onshore somewhere

A people are not known by the wealth of the soil, of the underground

A people are rich for the number of their intellectuals

Never for the adored made drunk propensity, fomented, injustice

Not having justice there is a lot of hand to the disposition

To love it is enough to sprout, to like of two promontories and a rift

No, they don't like… they fake. It is a vague feeling, that if I dispersed as the sexual intercourse

It is a momentary pleasure. The human being became used to

to not to lose time with the supplications of the Nature

And the bankers never sleep, they force the tides

of people's seas to speed up her, they carry it the waves of the paper money

That he has a similar sound to the undulation, a song, a morning smell

superior to the of the sea, universal. Everything manufactures

Don't they know that they got to create factories where the love comes out canned?

Now everything serves as business. It is true!

I want to love, I am going to a supermarket and I buy a can full of love

I take it home, I open her, I introduce it to my lover

It is there have a grandiose night of sighs and canned oh! o!

Then we spilled everything in the sink, and the destiny is the sea

They can imagine as the sea sits down. They never thought about that,

they repair that the whole planet proceeds like this

The people feel remorse’s when they approach the marine white foam

Because they know that the remains of her love walk over there lost

I believe that they have fear that the oceans become pregnant

And that the tides to the they fill flood the lightness of the transparent snow

The sands of the beaches with… as rejected children

For something to have them, if there is no time for educating

No if it shows them any consideration

Not even we took them to contemplate a tree…

For something if the green was already bought by some of the countless bankers

and unconstitutional. That is like this: between to do love and to generate a son, there is to choose. Ten minutes of coitus, and the money in her bank stops paying

The stubborn parents that manage to do children, in the end have the habitual surprise

The savings in the bank deposits are used for payments to psychologists and psychiatrists.

Image: Angola em fotos

The Epic Poem of the Darkness (114). We didn't tolerate opposition, and much less illuminated. Her papal follower is certain in everything in what say

And there is who believes that we are in a very advanced apprenticeship of the evolution

We wasted the time that remains us of the life to press keys with the fingers

We fed the piles that remain of the civilization. The keys of the love

that they feed our heart, they are not pressed

That the love is a science, an art. Cursed insipidities are these

I knew and I lived in the system that they forced me to proceed

I struggled with my forces day and night for maintaining

But with the time I discovered that it was deceiving, dictator

Forced laws, doctrines that it believed to proceed are corrects:

You will love a single god forever

For you be rewarded in the life will have to work as a slave

Because in the end you will receive many rewards and you will have a condign old age

Don't despise your father and your mother

He respects, it obeys your superiors, because you will be rewarded

Eulogized in the glory of the skies

Don't commit adultery, and above all you never make love with your parents

Nor with your siblings, because that is contrary to the laws of the Nature

He Avoids the rest, because your boss waits, it despairs, it is in force you constantly

And without him you will never be nobody, because it is him that pays you for your work

It is been not to pay won't have you money to eat

You will die from hunger, you and yours. Therefore he kneels down you before him

The Church blesses him first, and later you will come, because the Church

without them it doesn't subsist. It drags you and don't think because you will be excommunicated

burning in the secular bonfires of the blessed workshops of the blood

of the Holly Grail. Your mission is to work and to obey them

If you don't do like this, if you try to discover the Road, we will have to annihilate you

Because the a lot to think makes to discover things of Giordano, of Galileo, of Da Vinci

and other apocryphal ones

Our time doesn't have space

Our theologians are attentive. God, be him who goes

that that we invented, our God

that it dominates us, that it controls us

That it dominates the men's minds, that implacable entity

that it named us as eternal followers

Him that gave us the power for us to govern the Earth

Therefore we are you of the Universe and of everything that lives in him

We didn't tolerate opposition, and much less illuminated

Her papal follower is certain, in everything in what says and he does

The truth is, we are us, and it doesn't exist other

Suffer and die to the hunger, because in the end the kingdom of the skies will be blessed

with your presence. Oh of who doubts of this eternal truth

because it was not in vain that we invented the kingdom of the hell

Who is to our favour has the sky, who goes against he has the hell

Easier than this sentence for us to dominate the Universe

of the lost souls that us we created and we fed. Only an absolute truth exists

We are the holders of that truth that we created

with the support of the most abominable lies

The life without lie doesn't have meaning and for to support we ended

with the uterus of the oaks, and we generated the great divine hypocrisy

That devil of two paws, that biped indomitable savage

Image:Angola em fotos

The Epic Poem of the Darkness (113). To be rich is easy. Difficult it is to be honest

The great inventions that happened, discovered, they improved the humanity. Initially it seems that yes. Then the parasites of money increased the profits. To negotiate is easy, difficult is to innovate

To be rich is easy. Difficult it is to be honest

The bills, the information, the police, the politics, the corruption, the hunger, the political persecution.

It is secret! It is secret!

The hypocrisy is as the wind. When weak it falls asleep, very fort enslaves us

Before and after a revolution they submit in the a lot of promises, hurriedly

That we will be independent, occult… imprudent

That the ballpoint pens will be square

And the adventurers rejoice, forever they stay in the spoliation

Shooting, agitated voices, camouflaged. They beat in the gate, with the hand.

I open. What will be then? They are them! The curse!

A revolutionary convict says: "it is her!”

Me, the something!?

"I dreamed about you. In the dream you are involved in the attempt of our president's murder"

You dreamed badly!

"You are accused of crimes against the safety of the state"

At four in the morning?!

"He doesn't "exist time. We bought it, belongs us"

They privatized it!

"The secret doesn't have moments, he doesn't have hours, he has times"

You that accuse me. He looks at me well. I am old combatant. I kept the president's backs. Don't you remember me? We worked together. They voted for me abandoned. Up to now, nor miserable cash.

"It will be like this!”

So many alcoholic, corrupt, dictators and who that foments, and they are not judged, condemned by crimes against the safety of the state.

"If they stopped drinking and they abandoned the corruption would be suspicious… subversive. As the roosters, if they didn't sing, the dawn they announced"

Poor chickens!

"You are right. I remember very well of you. He excuses, you are not you. I will dream about other plotter"

THIS IMPASSABLE EPIC

We were born, because to that we are forced

The human tragedy needs actors

Without we give ourselves bill, the human theatre absorbs many figurants

Some act well, others try, they don't get

In the end it remains them beating palms. The life is a representation without theatre

Who in her not to get to represent his actor role

It will be forgotten. Just reminded once in a while in an any earth hole

The bones will remain for ritual stagings

Of sects, religious cults that wait for us

They peep us in our doors, in the windows of our minds

Our mortal remains don't end, they feed the traffic

Of the survival of the sorcery that remains of the millenarian ones

Hidden cults, disguised. The fight actual is final

The cults that Christianity thought extinguished, they return in force

We retreated in the history, we travelled in the time

To the reunion of our origins. Our ancestors' spirits return

They are back. No religion can annihilate other

Two history millenniums are insufficient for that

This hell in that we lived probe to end with being reborn of the Road

A religious sect tried to end with the other ones, it didn't get.

Strangely I remember the cellular phones ones, those devices of the advanced technology of the primitivism, of the menhir, of the tapir, of the altar that always needs sacrifices. For us to carry the batteries day and night. Of the civilization of the pile and of the stone battery.

The Epic Poem of the Darkness (112). The more ignorance better government. One more nation, another oppression

My teacher studied me in the shames, re-examinations of our deceiving tragedy. No longer he has value his memory of so equal, abnormal liberation

Of this no analgesic cultured governess in I manufacture him of corpse’s inquisitorial. Saint Church Services of the Manuals Medium no updated, notebooks, greasy

This is not of a, of any, the all belong!

They were covered in the system from where nobody escapes from the concentrated fields

Stalinism’s, resigned in the wait of malicious Minotaur

Violence that the happens one happens to all, to all

The death. Psychopathologic ritual, in this habitual fashion. They died in the inglorious concentration

Cousins, father, brother. Assaulted house, car. A malarial crisis chronicles

He condescended, he already drank, it ascended to the earthy paradise

The prow of the strong wind sways him original, marginal

"This wind north, rural, blows strong without east

It is orientated by the tyranny that consumes us, imported alcoholic wind

unfortunate, for the ordered government. Nor here I am calmed

Imported alcohol… out I am inebriated

Ó wind of the Jasmine because you push me like this?

That navigation… they let to cheat me the mast

The wind lost the head. Mine is slow, normal, rough

Is the drink with me, or me with her? "

It will rain! Drops are to consent!

"Ah! it is her finishes purchase that they did. Import of clouds. Imported rain

A lot of rain, winds, hurricanes, hurricanes, typhoons. The sky is flooded of drunk souls"

Ai!ai!ai! He looks at that drunk of the motorized ran over the child. Hê!hê!hê!.. Did it kill her!?

"A lot of deaths, few births. Demographic deficit. One more import…

Reproducers balance the race."

With so many cows to graze on thereabout?

"Dipodous of easy import."

I became used to, it felt him as a tombstone

Them, ruler’s passer-bys, announcers of the precocious, precarious vanity

He refrain the streets, powerful in the errant metallic horsemen's speakers

They open passage to a, the other, the other pretentious macrocephalous

They were not the sanctions, they would be car-concepts with atomics missiles

Appropriate to repaint the picture, many pictures of the block Guernica

They would do, but they do, a gale of my sale shakes her

Dived, submerged in the submarine of the sacred alcohol

And they promise the habitual but we already know that they never accomplish it

To return to the promises, to the instalment to the exhaustion

To return to the tithes, to the decimation

of this no transparent, insolvent government

Determined short term in the urgent dissolution of our cottages

The elements of the laments of the incurable congestion

The ghosts exist, they subsist, and they pursue me in my dreams

The more ignorance better government

Glory to the descendants of the hypocrisy in the Earth

A liberation movement, a cloth piece as flag, a student of hymns, a rhymester, cannon shots.

One more nation. Another oppression

Image:

The Epic Poem of the Darkness (111). Hum! That sly one, that Democracy should be a big prostitute.

The nights and the days learned how to abandon me

to get tired of this repetition, without imagination

Alive, but I don't feel anything of the future

Brainless in the streets without sense. Terrified, abandoned when

the arrived old age, and it is almost, nor for a rag I will be changed

That discrimination! Countries that he lives exist her well, in this no

Reason this exception?! Biologically we are all same ones, or no!?

Will it be due to my colour and dog composure?

I demand an answer. To know because I am not entitled to the bread

My teacher professed me crestfallen:

"The house is to tumble, it doesn't support the seasonal torrents. Without Government, depreciated in our inhuman carelessness"

One more month, again?!!

The corruption strengthens the economic growth, and the hunger, the other development

Such hecatomb of jurists and lawyers are formed, doctorates. They are more unemployed, more hungry persons"

For the name it seems that the Democracy is a woman like me. That She doesn't walk, she doesn't know how to walk. Have-of speaking with Her. Maybe because we are always seating in our sales, it should be for that that Her no steer. I will speak to the other women and we will have, to speak with Her. We will invite her, to accompany her to walk.

If she knew where She lives or where works…

She is the person of who more it is spoken. I never saw to pass her in the street, but it is read in the newspapers and in the frequent waves of the electronic frequency.

If I don't see her and I only feel her slightly, it is with certainty an apparent fantasy

that it drags me in the group, as everyone

Hum! That sly one, that Democracy should be a big prostitute. It is shovel, she leaves there she to remove. To cross the whole current in the same raft

It is that she doesn’t get to speak with that lady. She is very important. Shameless… when to come… I will give him hill of having plated. Democracy at random

It should be very rich, she is afraid of manifesting, for that it is hidden always

With her wealth and knots always in the poverty

It is very mysterious, it disappears and she appears once in a while

My itinerant Pygmy teacher reappeared led, always moved. What was this time?

"They stole me the car, I got to recover it, pathetic it is now to conserve it. But I got to repair it. I didn't avoid to shock him, frontal to 130 a hour

Of the storm two ribs that torment" me stood out

As the tragic-marine ships, now history tragic-motorists

Here is ours to drink and to sell things no important, mattered

Suspicious, at any moment assaulted

Even so, without giving me bill I began to cogitate with mine cogitate

about the love. They are so few, known, unknown.

The love of God and of Jesus Christ. To love to kill, love for the money

Love for the power, to love the speeds, carnal love, to love mistreating

the neighbour. To love the hate. To love the nuclear.

To love with nerve that no longer love exists. He exists and that of excessively

The humiliation of loving God on all of the things

served by the humiliating servitude to the sharks

That in the ingenuous love and servile they explore us, they starve us

in the prison of the commandments. We cannot react

because we sinned. The families of the sharks know him

Unpunished millenarian enslave the poor souls

Fearful that of the sky God sends them a ray in the head

The dogfishes well swallow the squalid believers.

That railway sleepers, paralyzed and hunted by the same everlastings predators

The Epic Poem of the Darkness (110). And in Angola, as a violent earth tremor, they just remain ruins of the independence and some human garbage

In the silence of the night or of the day the rears of the buildings are great, safe

to pile up the garbage. The heat justifies the laziness and other actions of the inhuman ones

Always tired! Eternally, habitually unworried!

Importuned by the mosquitoes of the marshy swamps that frequently build

And the mice appear as fast convoys before their siblings' passivity in the surface and even of the suspended cisterns of water. And the tribe Bantu doesn't wake up

Epidemics are infested, they have fun, they eat, and they dance with the black plague

The spoils of the parties that they are invented battle. The Bantu is always at parties

Everything is gnawed, split as trees without leaves that are skeletons and spider's webs

They took oath! Everything that is standing up will be destroyed

Of vertical they will be honoured horizontal

Everything begins soon after being born and it ends little later

I feel confused! I don't know if the life invites us to the death, or the death abandons us

I took shelter in the illiteracy and in the purest ignorance

Destroying, devastating what remained of the structure architectonics colonial

We universalized an immense pigsty with filthy indescribable

MY TEACHER

But that friend captured. Teacher Batista joined, it reinforced my epic poem

I never asked him but I think it is Pygmy. His head is a child

He is my habitual customer, sweeping of the red wine, he pays at the end of the month. With prayers for her boss that already there space three months without a cash. Our truth courtship, before was to fake, it began when he changed, he ran away from home.

"The sewer intensified, it pushed my cottage. I had to ring, I frustrated myself. Everything decanted for my cottage. The walls already liquefied of the eager home. Repealed foundations in judgement and out of him. With great interest we returned at the glorious times of the Medium Age"

I know, the conduct of the water of the eight hundred meters…

"Eight hundred millimetres"

Does he make difference?!

He threw two arrows of their eyes sunk for the very visible objective of my breasts.

"We are a people secular patient but daily impatient. We don't want to know of anything, nor of anybody… we extinguished

With job for foreign and foreign, national companies no!

"If you scream: I lower the exploration! Our people live in poverty! You will preside one more political party"

The days stretched out until one month. Didn't he appear, because it would be?

I distrusted that the bill not entrusted more he would pay

I proposed him the forgetfulness. In one more night that my life regressed

he returned. Disorientated, was unloaded of the seat, he already bought beautiful car:

"I come to pay the interests and my bill. I was long… they assaulted me

they didn't take me, they took me the documents. Yes! I had to buy car

Even so I leave house at four in the morning

to travel unknowns distances"

And your wife?

"Sow!.. Dove in domesticated dovecote, cooed

with income of the sorcery in favour of the concubines:

He is leaving to a cemetery and he goes to bed a skull,

then it is squeezed well until being ground, powdered

It is mixed in the food and the wife's drink

We can enter home with our lovers' arsenal

that they are invisible. The lady of the house doesn't sit down, nothing sees"

A lot of funny!

"It is the pagan time that whiten fibs in our secular tricks"

Image:

The Epic Poem of the Darkness (109). That victorious insensibility to the destruction and the death this people were meditated

In the fifth floor to middle of the planted balcony, graceful

proud, it develops trunk obstinate tree

The growth prolongates her the rift, uneven hole

The foliage optimize an clothesline of clothes

They removed the will to the water to arise, the electricity hinders shining

He resumes the slavery, intensive exploration. The children they are dispersed

confronted with shooting platoon or else they use carrying manual, animal

I liquidate him earthy powerful, onerous in their bodies

That it will divert them the tender spine

New times, new architectures. Pretentious tenants they rise

recently near, they promote earthquakes that pull down the internal walls

they alternate the structures. To leave, to undo, to destroy for among infernal noise

The power of the easy money consolidates. Powerful, majestic elegant

it parks the generator in the base that was of the elevator. Lost in the law of her back yard

illuminated, of poisoned oasis

They clogged the sewages that squirted shit and they laugh her, happy

of the oppressed human mud in the tubular galleries. How much more shit more happiness in the building

Nobody was importuned with the abnormal habitat of the coexistence without rules

The perfume dictated abject the paradigm of the social acceptance

The leisure decisive imposes the medieval return

Of the to dig ditch and to drain the smelly disgust out for the street

And of the to craps, feasts are commemorated by the reached fact

properly authorized for who of right

The water of the infidel company of the supply supplies at uncertain hours

In the first floor the out of print colonial faucets for the destructive years

they gush mining the property foundations

Culminating in the precocious destruction. Palms and smiles are beaten by such facts

never before seen

In the fifth floor they accommodated the doors with mouthfuls of awful firewood

that desperate, they wait for Edgar Allan Poe visit

Dismal walls invoke the ancestors' spirits

They are distributed, they take advantage, and mouthfuls remain

In the house of bath two improvised fetid holes they peep the persons in need

In the split ground the bad weather invade the ceiling of the fourth undone floor

Stoic in the remaining areas, he is founded, it goes down, he sinks in the Marxism-Leninism

A main fuse interrupts the circuit of the electric energy. Electricians with sophisticated instruments seeming of the beyond with an any pliers, in the lack improvises something, they pull, they pull cables

The electric potency disordered increases, the remaining fuses weaken

they get sick irredeemable. He finished, they extinguished the illumination,

they restore her and some flames wake up the terror

of the eruption of the electric volcano. They throw escapes with laughter for the audience

for the gratuitousness of the deserved tragedy

In the rears of the buildings the prominence of the power is reinforced, among the great imperial generals

They order to leave, to evacuate walls. They leave feasts, with alcohol in torrents.

As a diverted river of her course, they are born lakes, ponds

That victorious insensibility to the destruction and the death this people were meditated

Image: project new life in Angola. FOLHA 8

The Epic Poem of the Darkness (108). The great monkeying rehearsed the first palaces of the irresponsible freedom

Angola doesn't have future, he walks very fast for the suicide collective

The opposition is also bogey of the vile metal. Between these and the power

they don't have difference, only the fight exists of having

The oil-producing increases, the alcohol also

It drives the empty minds full of parties

In the university with new obligatory chair: merrymakings

Where the opposition dandy searches new words for the egocentric objective

Nobody hears them, they pay attention

Absorbed, dominated by the noisy that it never stops, musical death rattle

Without family, he dissolved as a tree started by the root

Law and order? Only disorder! Theological hypocrisy: to finish a war to begin other

Amazed with the cruelty, spirituous with the ignorance. Touching!

Amazement with so many obligations without solutions. I need the most important, to read

To read? Billions with deformed brains, do hungry persons read books? No!

Without brain and without money to eat is not possible to read

They are stopped selling billions of books. Incalculable damages

An example of the anarchy to create parking place. Some stones are put in the public road. The ruling comrade sharpens the prehistoric weapon of flint

Imposing, with airs of having modernized, learned

When there are national prizes of culture and art

The families of the octopus win us without tentacles

That terrifying grace: the communists copied the methods of the government salazarista

They returned to the salazarismo, to the city capital disordered

and to the provinces in the Medium Age

My Angola no! Republic ONG yes!

In the peak of the exploration and slavery. Of abandoned people to her bad luck

THE BUILDING

The whitewashed building of white, hygienic, was of the Whites

I occupied, we occupied him in agreement with the freedom of the popular power

New life in the buildings that we conquered. They don't belong more to the settler

They belong us, everything now is ours. Only mine! Only yours!

I will enjoy my independence a lot. Live the socialism! Live the popular power!

I broke into the door, I wrote in the wall to the entrance, BUSY MPLA

The Whites left beautiful things, they are mine, foppish!

Did they leave the one what stole us (?)

I glued a bikini, mini-skirt ultra tans, mirrored myself and I went mad me

I will celebrate, to walk my vanity

They don't finish the feasts, according to my desires

The time passed, I felt that something… it never returned. Suddenly everything ended

The trump card, victory of the illiteracy arrived

The buildings, the building, flooded in the sovereign will the desire to self-destroy

The water, the light, the elevator, they were not the whites that took them. It was the revolution that sank them, that everything took

Electrics drivers, switches, fuses, lamps for revolutionary consumption

They went of the stairways to the habituated hands, sweated in these adventures

of the eclectic cannibals, electrics

In the motor of the elevator he lodged revolutionary resident, happy with the cottage to the disposal

To defecate in a paper, piling up it in the deck of the street

The small old house of service of the elevator forced millimetrical to welcome five glorious unexpected tenants of joy for the cottage. New owners timeless that get confused with the garbage

That they overstep, they illuminate the devastated landscape of the countless residual of the whites.

Steps of the stairways left by dragging of the partisans stone jugs of gas. But just for the pleasure to destroy, I begin of self-destroying

In the terrace it is alleged to build a Bantu traditional palace

With architecture perfectly natural. Wood, boards, metallic foils

Daydreamed thereabout to the he will god-give, or where to approve

The exits of the waters stop working, they are been dazzling, and forced decide another direction

They invade the bass neighbour’s house, and in the following

The one of the palace confronted Bantu, imbecile and rabble, inhumanly, invokes:

"The fault is of the Nature, I didn't order to rain him”

The great monkeying rehearsed the first palaces of the irresponsible freedom

The Epic Poem of the Darkness (107). Because we are not entitled to the silence? Because only the sound of the terror invades us?

This democracy forces us the senses with their sounds of the repetitive power, no alternative, horribly tiresome. As if we were to attend always a same soccer game. As if nothing else existed.

With so much free earth, open spaces, frees

The power subtracts us, it kills us for tiny space

They keep insistent promises of new life of the hunger

that they ennoble the class politicizes of the sounds oil company’s

The power is reborn the hunger also. The rivers of the power are torrential,

the one of the hungry persons, dry, emptiness, anxious

This to govern, it imposes us the illegality as survival

It is as a castle without drawbridge. As soldiers without ammunitions

that they surrender to the inevitable death

If you don't obey you will never be ordered

Because who is going for priest

it is because he doesn't know how to do anything else

Look! They are to workout for the alcoholic Olympic Games

They lost common sense. Not to believe in God is easy

But there is another God no invented that he has any stranger's thing, unknown

Enigmatic in our syntony

To govern with the lie is to suffocate the truth

In Jingola and in other kingdoms the democracy is exercised by the police politicizes

that it uses the unhealthy secrecy of the information cooked in primitive ovens

He washed, I continue to wash clothes. I am independent laundress

The dictatorship that tumbles the power for the violence with her will fall

We lived the last moments of our existence

We chose for the suicide collective. But my power will expire, I will be immortal

as our heroes, forgotten, abandoned, give to the powder of the time

Like this! We didn't recognize the true merits of those that deserve them

Exiles, we were without History

Lost in the space and temporary enigmas of the colonies

again colonized

Everything begins and it ends in the weapons. They remain the minds traumatised

I lost the stamp of my Road. I will never again find it

No longer I know how to walk, I gorge of walking

They strayed of the common sense, returned the kill us

With so much earth to only cultivate the wind knows how to sow

Rain to flood, the waters will spread

who will govern me?!

I enjoy the fright electoral medieval. I voted for! Parliament, deputies

in the bleachers

Of the somatic outdated for the retrograde speed

Biped it falls pieces without replacement. They ignore where they are, what is

The enclave relating to prison is personal, it oppresses the slaves' cultural ingenuousness

The power to be, to continue, nothing to change

They got!.. Maybe for the canned foods, mattered

Our genes altered. We are genetically canned, modified

I don't have name, I am a soul of the other world

Cannot I think!? Is a very dangerous activity

The death is the last interposed resource, no assisted

and they get happy with my misfortune

Image: http://torredahistoriaiberica.blogspot.com/2007/11/mulheres-de-angola-na-pintura-de-neves.html

The Epic Poem of the Darkness (106). There to be democracy it is lawful to get off the illicit power

The government that doesn't sit down, has eyes and he doesn't see

So much blindness in the doctrinal palaces, government with books that never open up

In the visible continuation of the age of the darkness

The Nature develops, the men get lost in the vegetation

of the gentle forests that force

To live in the luxury and in the superfluous expenses it is also a crime against the humanity

The weapons are the symbol of the power. The unarmed minds are valuable for the democracy

To vote for it is necessary that there are voters

There to be voters it is necessary that there are elections

There to be elections it is necessary that there is democracy

There to be democracy it is lawful to get off the illicit power

to abandon footballs and other snails

To erect schools, universities, with good teachers for the poverty to finish

Without university freedom doesn't exist. The lack of culture of the hunger exists

The power is as a ship

he needs good sailors, immediate and competent good commander

The navigation is guaranteed in the constant attention of the rudder and of the prow

The direction of the navigation is guaranteed. Always in front!

Commander orders! The ship of the government is ready!

To navigate to the rhythm of the democracy consolidated to the prow, to the reverse

to port and starboard

For carelessness the ship careens dangerously and it drifts

The commander and the immediate have to be substituted

The incompetence gives up place to the competence about who knows to drive the embarkation

and to drive the people, the crew, for new port

Let us don't leave this democracy to sink. There are no submarines for to save

There are divers to stun us

He goes, ship of the democracy! He navigates in the mental calm

he avoids the rocks, watch at night and in the daytime!

Democracy with short circuits is incendiary

The one of the negligence of the candle lit is also it

when the government deprives of electric energy

the population

However the sewers in the flow of the freedom

they walked, they dragged

they steered the democratic exhaustion

There are democracies of five levels:

1 - Short term: the democracy is subverted by a coup d'état

2 - Medium term: the institutions don't adapt to the new life

3 - Long term: who challenges the power it will face

assault cars, helicopters, airplanes, and arms exhibitions

4 - Eternal: the democracy is an infested kingdom of corruption, and of permanent violation of the Constitution

As a very painted ship, equipped outwardly.

In the interior the rust, the rottenness. The mice corrode what remains of the structures. When sinking nobody on board notices

5 - Nuclear democracy: who threatens, who doesn't agree, it takes with the arsenal of the atomic explosion and everything will fly, to be without air

The Epic Poem of the Darkness (105). “Intelligent Men, with good culture politicize and juridical, they don't pass of that. Impostors that read Shakes

I adhered, I am fan of the spontaneous movement, we will Destroy Luanda

Championships of the world exist for everything, but none exists for the hunger

It lacks the championship of the world to reward the best dictatorship

And tournament for the best government destructor of cottages

Free me of the hunger and I will dominate the world

I am tired to cry, the new gentlemen

of the slaves they drained me the tears

Until that they spoil me

I wait for the bewildered order used for us to kill me

of the partisans without work

where all of the years there are tyrants

It was not such necessary terror

in the liberation armed combat

Mahatma Gandhi and the intelligent no-violence drove the independence

Therefore here I am defoliated, deforested. It still remains me the skelleton

in the concentration camp Bantu, concentrated

Close, eliminate the concentration camps Bantus

The symphonic orchestra Bantu is maddened

Bantu, don't force her brother to die of hunger!

The day blunted in the outskirts of the Sun

With such inspiration that pleased to repaint him the Universe

As a painter to begin her screen

Close, the water rehearsed dance steps

With the marine sand and the lower case life was anxious,

he ran

Trying to survive like me to the inconstancies

of the wounded fight, of the bites oil companies of the day by day

As leaves of plants always yellowish

tumbled, forgotten in the jungle of the survival

human

The chaotic human woke up, it civilized the marine life

that it changed of direction wanting to confuse the Creator

A crowd of voices was abandoned pursued by the apocalyptic horseman of the hunger

Always to ride where no there are race and food

The day went away bold of the Sun. He finished her screen

of the misfortune for the following day

Cars without highways serve the alternative systems

circulatory sanguine, blockades of the heart alleys without exit

But they are salutary, the wandering war tanks militate

For us to scare me with the dissonance of the perpetuation

Ah! I adore tinkling of the bottles with the liquid of our perdition

It is the people bottle Bantu in the hand. Of the clear nights and of the dark days

I avoid the encounter with the sadness but she pursues me

She probes me. Is my colour different, should I starve?!

I discovered: the hunger is black! Everything that is terrible is Black!

Ó God of the Whites! Put on makeup of your colour!

After your colonialism, the tyranny Bantu

Tonsillitis epidemic and poliomyelitis silenced and it paralyzed the political opposition.

In Aquilino Ribeiro saying: “Intelligent men, with good culture politicize and juridical, they don't pass of that". Impostors that read Shakespeare… they are like this the great actors”

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The Epic Poem of the Darkness (104). The churches help me in the poverty. They abase me with what don't have, money

The Western hypocrisy disperses for Angola to the rhythm of the big bang

He is very developed, until he already has discipline guaranteed university student

He is as the dogs that also no longer they believe in their owners. Crisis of canine hypocrisy

They bark out very hypocrisy for the thieves

So cynic they are that they fake that they like the food that the owner gives them

And they bark in the best sleep of the night

Pleased in they wake up the owners

They bark out operas

The owners get up agitated, they go for the friends infidels

The hairy tails are anxious. They justify barking out trying to bite the sleepy

owner, faking that it is a thief. Many proprietors noticed of the fraud

No longer they speak to them, they bark out them

Short term a serenade canid will be howled

How do they want him to believe in God?!

I have faith in Great God of the Hunger. When he dies I have her guaranteed paradise

Before there to arrive awaits for a commission of UN to govern me

Kilimanjaro, the legend of King Salomon’s funeral

So much left wisdom, maybe never equalising

I have to penetrate in the bottom of the time and to bring himt to the surface

It is a coaxing institution that is just for friends

He calls himself national propagation of malefactors

The churches help me in the poverty. They abase me with what don't have, money

Even so they insist because or else!.. God that everything sees, it will be very angry and it won't favour me. I enter in the borrowed money to pay what don't owe, like this millstone demands the blessed shepherds. Then hunger, the endless cure

Of remedying of my evils. Young old precocity

Angolan to die of hunger and of diseases

I penetrate the glance in the bottom of my soul and I see:

We arrived the old ones and before the last oh, we discovered that we walked the guideless whole life

I don't know because it is impossible to find a government of wise persons

The governments are as you would fill them, as the casinos

We bet, we didn't get right, we lost

Paradox: populations die to the hunger and the rulers never lacks them food

Another paradox: where there is no food the human mice multiply

Plus other paradox: where the human being is harnessed, diseases and epidemics don't lack

I don't get to understand the reason of the Angolan to build and later to destroy

The time starts to build and to drop

It is that! We didn't consume drink, she consumes us

And the merrymakings, the parties pursue us

The streets paralyzed through where pass are flooded by rivers of alcohol

They seem fish, they get confused with alcoholic bottles

they set afloat it without a destination in the current

Our existence depends on the steams, of the alcoholic volumes

of the spin in the ether

When we say to a possessed to make drunk:

“You are not in conditions of leaving, you can be assaulted. Don't drive your car. The police will arrest you.”

"Oh! I Want there to know! To me nobody mistreats me, he arrests me.”

And they happen. After the steams vaguely extinct, the sorry drunk poor take oath drink never again. They return to the abnormality:

“I will only drink a glass"

Clumsy as plants without water, as toothless satellite dishes

In this to drink, I see children he be born, to play, to grow… to suffer

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The Epic Poem of the Darkness (103). Without reading there is no intellectual development, it is for that that my brain doesn't work

Of the sovereignty a thousand dangers they wait for me, they pursue me

They are these delicacies without life

When we were born were, we didn't step

in any earth

But it is in any side that we died, in any earth

Lord:

Because you just chose Angola for you throw your curses

forgetting, protecting other places where the cunning ones hide

in such vast earth

Because you don't provoke the disease of the sleep in the thirsty of the easy power

in the idiots and similar

Because you don't hibernate them, because you don't begin them to sleep, eternally, properly frozen

That, we promised you that the electronics sensor that they are in force them

they will suffer rigorous maintenance and vigil

We are so tired of so much our sovereign to slap us

that no longer we have more faces to give

We are already in the fear of living deformed. What will make Lord?!

Don't you know?! Don’t you remember?!

Here we are in the summit of the cynicism, from faking

that in Angola democracy exists

We didn't exist, we faked

Did we speak, did we criticize… and did we never get tired?!

The romantic abolitionists struggled against the inequality

To struggle to abolish the slavery is a thing, her formation is other

They free me and to continue slave is pure romanticism

He frees in the captivity, it captures of the freedom of the fire

trembling of the candle

The Angolan concentration camps are an immense ocean

Where only ships of the hunger navigate

The very fair clothes in my sensual body

they wake up the sensuality in the men's glance

And they forget the ants transporting food in the vertical wall

The plants showing his beauty to her boyfriend Sun

Close, remains of a chair commenting on the last life

of political opponents

Children leave the school escaping from the death

of the fast automobiles canned in the highways

without drainage

Sleep is in force her them. They arrive the starving house… he waits for them the insatiable hunger

The red sign paralyzes the metallic hulks

The green appears. They rush in a crazy one run by the grass of the asphalted jungle

The Humanity's History is the history of the wars

for I control him of the raw materials. The civilizations disappeared

due to the development of weapons always more powerful

To the discovery of the nuclear. Always in conflict with the Nature

The idiots don't know that she is aware

The final revolt is the revolution of the Nature. As a gigantic company of cleaning and sanitation the earth is swept, it cleans of the human weed

The human civilization finishes, another appears. The cycle is repetitive. The Nature feels only, it creates humans to amuse. When tired she gives them with the racket, as if they were a ball tennis

Without reading there is no intellectual development, it is for that that my brain doesn't work

The other people move forward and we retreated, we were satisfied in crumbs that they are going leaving being hit

Anyway this is the most merciless slavery that still was not counted properly. The most ignoble criminal act of all of the times. To exterminate people. Under the voice of the Angolan command: EAT THE HUNGER!!!

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The Epic Poem of the Darkness (102). My atmosphere, the daily existence is a constant film of terror of Stephen King

We want to be colonized again

He had a friendship strengthened with him, since it arose to minister didn't go more recognized. We are treacherous, we betrayed ourselves

In these you vacate marine am unrecognizable

African when it arises in the life is the sky, it is God in the clouds

He changes the friends, it despises the friendship for a vulgar brilliant automobile, accompanied of women and whiskey bottles

We went back to the ruins of our temples

We resigned in the expectant ones in the tradition of the African hamlet, of the quilombo (fortified camp of the jagas, design. attributed to the people that invaded Congo and Angola in the end of the century XVI.) In Dictionary Houaiss

We became used to the hunger, to the poverty and here there are no stairways to arise

It is always to go down. The ground moves to the wait, in the meat it dries deteriorated

In seeking in the containers of the garbage the peels that remained of the banana plantations

And they got that our children remained genetically modified astonished.

When they arrive, after the storm wine cellar, of the mixture of liquors, they offer us just tobacco: "Mother, do you want a cigarette?”

After they exceed, badly they love, they spend what won

with partners lovers that got off the clouds of the night

With the names forgotten in cataplasm. Being served as the Bible with slander:

It is written: youth amuses you". They reinforce: My clock doesn't have hours, it wasted the time in the nights fed up with the alcohol"

We can in the dark nights to be clear, transparent in our dialogues

Then the dark nights can be clear

As they are strange and unfathomable a woman's loves

They were born at a place, somewhere in any street

He gives in learned to polish shoes to survive

Quickly he adapted, he learned the art of stealing

She gives in learned to sell his body to survive

She didn't waste a long time. She specialized in offering, in giving pleasure to the men

Sex is an art!

Later, he finished their days to face, to find

a candy well-aimed policeman. He left like this, it was not gotten right, he ignored that at least could be happy

She later was invited by a great friend

AIDS, for an eternal meeting

She died, it lost the immunity of the happiness, convinced that it was happy

The youths today come across the misfortune

Bum! Bum! The sound of the bullets loaded of gunpowder

Alive in the roofs of the cottages of the failed states

I don't have anything, I cannot defend the homeland

To care for what doesn't belong me. When I have difficulty to sleep

I listen to the politicians of my Angola. I receive the effective medicine for my insomnia of the prison, prisoner in my country

The colonial structures were left, it was everything done, and nothing was just continued: To "destroy everything that belongs to the settler"

It is not enough to have the wealthy safes, if the minds were not educated for providing. They become exhausted and it is pled to the divine providence. To trust the stagnation:

There is "a lot of money! Everything will do again! It is one more barrel of petroleum! "

We cannot industrialize our agriculture because we are illiterate

We have many dismissed. The views short colour-blinds, confuse the tractor with a human being

My atmosphere, the daily existence is a constant terror film

of Stephen King

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