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3rd Poetry Circuit

29/03/2016

The poet is beautiful like the Taj-Mahal
made of lace and marble and serenity

The poet is beautiful like the unexpected profile of a tree
to the first lightning of the storm

The poet is beautiful because his rags
are from the fabric of eternity

3rd Circuit of Poetry – Brotas

In O Poeta é Belo, Mário Quintana’s verses describe the poetic universe in which the courtyard of the Academic Unit was transformed. Brotas, in the afternoon of March 22nd, when the 3rd Circuit of Poetry of Bahiana, an initiative of the Psicopedegógica Care Nucleus (NAPP) with the participation of undergraduate students, professors and employees.

"This is a meeting open to the entire academic community in order to create a space for the expression of subjectivity, because poetry is a means of expression that favors the maturing of a broader view of the world. We believe that activities involving artistic languages are very important in the formation of the subject, in how he thinks and deals with the world", explains Angélica Mendes, manager of the NAPP.

Between noon and two in the afternoon, students from different courses and collaborators used the microphone and shared poems, songs, chronicles and poetic prose with those present. "I really enjoyed today. I thought it was something atypical. It's good to get out of that routine of always being under the pressure of studying and having a million things to do. I really enjoyed today, I thought it was special and I would like to at first, I was a little nervous, but now I'm even lighter!", declares João Pedro Souza Santos, a student of the 3rd semester of Medicine.

3rd Poetry Circuit - Cabula

Students from the Cabula Academic Unit also participated in actions to celebrate the passage of International Poetry Day. On March 29, the poetic action, which again featured the participation of poet and actor Daniel Farias, was held at the Centro de Convivência of that academic unit.

Poetry was read and shared. The 2nd semester student of Physiotherapy, Felipe Campos, took the opportunity to share two of his 93 author poems. “I've been writing since I was 12 years old. Poetry for me is an escape! Escape from reality, deposit of feelings, opening of a new universe, perhaps. And this is my first poetry circuit and I'm having a great time. It's an amazing opportunity, because there are a lot of people who write a lot and for a long time and don't have an opportunity to expose it to other people. So here, in this looser environment at the gym, it's more comfortable for people to be able to expose themselves”.

For the 1st semester student of Biomedicine, Lara Guimarães, the moment was interesting to break the routine. "I found the text I read interesting, because it says that pleasure only exists in the moment and joy is lasting, it stays as a memory", was how she interpreted the text "Was it pleasure?" by the poet Rubem Alves.

---- Late afternoon ----

Felipe Campos

the sky gets dark
The hours go by quickly
The days go by and we don't even feel
The month and year are dying

Late afternoon, serene moment
day ending sleep coming
feeling calm, mellow
Utopia, that's what I'm talking about

In the late afternoon, the eyes burn
tiredness of the day, exhaustion
The lips, dry, soon depart
Empty house, lights on, loneliness

on the horizon, over there
The sky of another color shows itself, like this
Vibrant color, touching tone
And something like that says to me

In the late afternoon, I get the paper
The pen, of course, comes with
I write sweet words like honey
Words that somehow the chest scratches

I feel the breeze coming from the sea
I feel the cold that invades through the window
I feel the heat in my chest increase
Difficult to understand spontaneity

In the late afternoon, I have to distract myself
exercise, music, food
There's something on my mind that insists on confusing
What path will I take, with such a life?

In the late afternoon, I tend to be subjective
I scream without fanfare
I don't leave it like that, attractive
I get like this, in the late afternoon

In the late afternoon, the heart is open
The eyes close, I get sensitive
The wound, inflamed, burns, that's for sure
No problem, as I feel alive

In the late afternoon, I make a coffee
I get out of the ordinary, overflow
make a request, use faith
Waiting for fate to plan chance

paper, pen, coffee
I do this, each of my verses
My? Not completely, right?
They could only be mine if there were no traces of you.

Salvador - BA (04/08/15 21:32)