Writings

Marching Bands of Manhattan

Posted by Otto Robba in Poetry, Writings on 04. Dec, 2007 | No Comments

“If I could open my arms
And span the length of the isle of Manhattan,
I’d bring it to where you are
Making a lake of the East River and Hudson
If I could open my mouth
Wide enough for a marching band to march out
They would make your name sing
And bend through alleys and bounce off all the buildings.

I wish we could open our eyes
To see in all directions at the same time
Oh what a beautiful view
If you were never aware of what was around you
And it is true what you said
That I live like a hermit in my own head
But when the sun shines again
I’ll pull the curtains and blinds to let the light in.

Sorrow drips into your heart through a pinhole
Just like a faucet that leaks and there is comfort in the sound
But while you debate half empty or half full
It slowly rises, your love is gonna drown [4x]

Your love is gonna drown [4x]
Your love is gonna…”

–Death Cab for Cutie (Plans)

Não deixe a porta bater

Posted by Otto Robba in Poesia, Writings on 04. Dec, 2007 | No Comments

Dirão que é errado

Dirão que deve-se fazer o esperado

Divergir é proibido

Pensar só dentro do permitido

.

Aos meus desejos são capazes de dar motivos

Para que eu não faça

Para que eu não seja

E como se estivesse escrito na pedra

Não falarás odeio-te

E como se fosse lei

Não falarás amo-te

E como se não bastasse

Não falarás

.

Atrelados a regimes sociais totalitários

Ficamos aqui, juntos e solitários

Esperando o badalar dos momentos certos

Não estamos despertos

Mentimos por omissão.

What did I miss?

Posted by Otto Robba in Poetry on 03. Dec, 2007 | No Comments

I’ve got this headache that won’t go away

And despite what people say

I think I’ve found the reason behind it

.

In staying in the light so long

Sensitive eyes, used to the dark

I’m used to the old dance’n'song

And all the comfort that comes along

.

Sadness hurries up and takes over

Drop after drop, akin to an infiltration

And once my pond overflows

Sorrow hurries up and takes over

.

I’ve got to admit that I’ve been trying to quit

But whenever I try to go to the light

I get these headaches

And lose my sight

.

Aching and itching,

Disturbing and grieving

.

The doubts pour in

The cross becomes wood

The rose becomes a plant

And much like an infant

I fail to understand the world

Give me a dime to save the world

Posted by Otto Robba in Poetry on 02. Dec, 2007 | No Comments

Here I am on the sidewalk

With a dime on my hand

I see people come and go

And nobody wonders

Why am I on the sidewalk

.

Giving change a chance

As I go about my worldly doings

I seek to rearrange

So I can keep on doing the dance

.

So here I am at the sidewalk

And at the flip of a coin

It all changes

At the flip of a coin

I’m a whole new person

At the flip of a coin

I’m still me

At the flip of a coin

I decided to be free

.

Tails or heads, I don’t know

Heads or tails, I don’t care

I don’t relly on chance

To pave my road

To save myself

To save the world

.

Yet here I am

On the sidewalk

Seeing the cars go

Seeing the people run

Seeing the world turn

Seeing my dime burn

.

Now I no longer have a coin to flip

Now I no longer have to flip a coin

I paved the road

I saved myself

I saved the world

Highway to everywhere and nowhere

Posted by Otto Robba in Poetry on 01. Dec, 2007 | No Comments

I left behind an entire world

I left the right places for the wrong ones

And still it was not a mistake

.

I left a solved world

For a giant puzzle masterpiece

Dazzling daydream of change

I’m not sure when it will end

.

I slept in parking lots

I sold all that I had

I visited places I would not dare

But I was right all along

.

Right in being wrong

Just as I am

Right when writing down this song

.

Went against a lot

Lost a lot and won so much more

And it all changed me

For I’m not an anachronic man

.

I’m just a boy at heart

Don’t dare to scatter my sand castles

The dunes you make

Are from ill-minded cattle

.

Don’t you dare to cut me out

I drive as I feel I must

And this should be enough.

.

But it never is.

Not for you or those people,

All the glory and beauty I see

Comes across as mere dreamscape fantasy

.

I assure you

I married my mind and my soul

I see a goal

I only lack your faith in me

.

Enough is enough,

And so here it stops

So I can keep on going

Until I cross the last bit of road

Mirrors staring

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    For me, art is all about communication, finding and giving meaning when most would not see. To make people feel from words unspoken, to imagine entire worlds through simple literary passages.

    My dream is to be able to, should I ever be so lucky, create a piece of work that lives far beyond myself.