Three Hours — Januário Esteves

7th Hour

When the spirit rises more
More of the human defects are seen
And everywhere there is darkness,
Languid malice that provides

In so-called cinematic language
From the real the assembly transforms
The scenery in a fantastic atmosphere
In fact what passes the norm

Silenced songs of yesteryear
Blazing epiphanies dazzled
They are in dementia right now
The voracious song of the hurt souls

Afternoon shakes or gesture unable
In the clear waters that cry
Become a quick guy
The calendas that always were.

11th Hour

The unspeakable is about to be written
Out on the street that is destined for us
Whenever something wants to die
An Intestine Fever Falls In Us

They are psychosomatic lenses
That on the whole line make career
In extragalactic travels
Everything is good in the voice of a mourner

And we lunatically prefigure
The judgment of that which
For only what we have achieved
Makes us live in axiom

From the hypothetical declared
The logos is pronounced
Act like harassed fire
By the voice of resignation.

21st Hour

Shine the mind in diaspora
The constant quibbling
That opens Pandora's box
And makes her belligerent

In heavenly domains
Travel by creating planispheres
Between stars and portals
Leave the seed of mysteries

Myriad kaleidoscopes
Throb in the substrate
By the Pleiades
Seeking the Desiderate

In paranormal hallucinations
Of body and soul
Supernormal Experiences
Horizons without a soul?