Alma Novaes


Photo ex libris of the people Portuguese 


Vilification


Garlic is mixed with apples

The oxen will always have a name

And it will always be averse to democracy

A man ain't a party

If not the values he defends!

And when the party doesn't defend 

ideals and yes interests, the regime gives

Room for all kinds of euphemisms

To mask the real reason for the attacks

Don't bring false questions!

Be men, not thieves.


In Spite of Opium


 Once upon a time 

there were men 

with a sense of statesmanship

And they stood aside 

so as not to mingle with the others,

One day men were stiff and loyal

And they did not make use of the state, 

but they served the nation

That day would continue to avenge,

if there were men with dignity,

 a sense of state, 


and the value of freedom,

who would not be converted

in more vestry rats. 

Don't put it in the same basket

All your bitterness and frustrations

You are still alive

You still have a voice

You hide behind

You hide behind the rocks

But in addition to throwing them

And throw names at the culprits

Go and do better

That your ancestors


Plan A

For a democracy of direct representation,

that true democracy requires

What none has hitherto 

to give of those who speak, 

Transparency,

 lucidity and sense of duty


Plan B


The people will be your reputation

Oblige the Members of Parliament 

for democracy

sharing the same folder, the 

Govern the Nation, 

Together, Elected

to form a team, 

"the national team"

not a contraption, where 

One is more in charge than the others

but where everyone is a solution 

and not a problem.

If you want a nation 

Well-run house

that reflects your ideals, 

do not devise schemes,

doctrines or diadems

to save your skin

and forget who elects you.

Break the trickery

to which you have 

become accustomed,

Forget the religion you preach 

and work out the difference

without recourse to your 

Institutional Vices

Defend the people and 

not your own interests

Do not be like the rest

And now, I hear the soundtrack

Of men who for ideals

illustrated and deluded themselves

Fought and listened to each other 

sing in unison,

in a secular post-dictatorship country

The people are the ones 

who give the most orders.

Within thee, O nation.




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