The Place
The sky was blue, the grass wet and green.
The trees are shaking, the birds are singing.
How does this place exist?
I’m the luckiest man I’ve seen.
I love this place - a place that transmits me
Peace, peace, peace…
Cláudio Silva, 12.ºB
Loud System
Sometimes being alone is good!
Like, I imagine a cabbin made of wood
The coffee is so hot;
My mind is so cold.
The cigarrette is so hot
and my heart so bold.
The light is so light and the fireplace so bright.
The wood has no end, the wood creaks and bends.
The world is at peace and my mind at ease.
The trees moving create a show
while the wind moves and blows.
The flowers get colorful and bloom
while I´m looking out of my boom.
The room smells of incense
There’s a loud,silence, silence …silence…
Guilherme Oliveira and Alexandre Brás, 12.ºB
Fear and Loathing in SJM
That shiny pony is running towards something,
Couldn't find anything, Destiny means nothing,
The black, the collateral red, based on the menacing white.
Fear I feel, Loathe I am, Fear I feed and deliver,
Loathe I hear, With Fear I choke, Loathe I hate and despise!
Wish I could collide with the unknown in outer space,
Someday, disappear without a trace and
Pray only for black or white, but not for something real as red…
Cristiano Assunção, 12.ºB
My Poem
I dreamed bout this moment:
It’s night, lots of colourful lights and it starts...
People’s screams enter my head
I start feeling the anxiety
But after tat there was only euphoria.
I felt the happiest person alive!
What if I got to know that person?
How would it be?...
Maybe that turns out to be my next dream.
Sofia Rocha, 12.ºB
In my kitchenette
In my kitchenette,
There was a round table,
With a fruit bowl always filled,
With apples, or, instead, a china set.
A wooden backsplash,
With a green tiled island,
Such neutral tones,
With the apple’s red splash.
The room is filled with a melody,
People are sat,
But it isn’t anybody,
My friends can’t be quiet.
Someone grabs an apple,
Maybe to eat it? Or just to admire it?
Their long days of work,
Bring hunger and desire.
The chairs are dated,
The sink’s water is lukewarm,
It all feels calm,
And I am relaxed.
In my kitchenette,
The wood has no dust,
Light is a must,
And there is my cat.
by Inês Amaral and Maria Costa, 12.°B
Deram-nos asas para voar,
Resolveram, o céu, nos tirar,
Nem teu, nem meu,
Aquele era o nosso céu!
Se ele não é p'ra ser preenchido,
então, não serve de nada!
Cheira-me que, daqui em diante,
haverá força de quem nunca se cala.
Ainda sem o céu,
sente-se uma constante madrugada.
Porém, hoje, não haverá a necessidade
de se colocar à prova de bala...
... Finalmente, o céu volta a ser tinto!
Quebram-se as gaiolas, a nossa alma evade-se.
Agora, só eu decido como as ideias pinto,
Pois o oxigénio da alma é a pura liberdade!
Cristiano Assunção (12.ºB)
