{"id":13552,"date":"2021-06-09T23:22:36","date_gmt":"2021-06-09T21:22:36","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/egophobia.ro\/?p=13552"},"modified":"2021-06-09T23:22:36","modified_gmt":"2021-06-09T21:22:36","slug":"poems-by-felipe-rodolfo-hendriksen","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/?p=13552","title":{"rendered":"poems by Felipe Rodolfo Hendriksen"},"content":{"rendered":"

Ode on a Photo Taken Somewhere Around December 2008<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

A moment frozen in eternity,<\/p>\n

A picture I\u2019m sure no one remembers<\/p>\n

But me.<\/p>\n

A frame, a slice, a moment<\/p>\n

Of a life that was never fulfilling<\/p>\n

But wasn\u2019t so bad at the time.<\/p>\n

A still image drawn by Someone above,<\/p>\n

Someone who knew<\/p>\n

The occasion was going to mean something in the future.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Maybe it\u2019s lost,<\/p>\n

But I hope it survives<\/p>\n

In some secret Facebook profile<\/p>\n

Or a hidden flash drive, somewhere.<\/p>\n

Maybe even in a CD,<\/p>\n

Because that was the time of CDs,<\/p>\n

Because I\u2019m that old,<\/p>\n

Because I\u2019m hoping<\/p>\n

She felt it was important to save the picture,<\/p>\n

Not all pictures but that one,<\/p>\n

The one she\u2019s with me,<\/p>\n

Awkwardly hugging,<\/p>\n

The one I\u2019m wearing a weird hat,<\/p>\n

Those hipster, brown, Marxist hats<\/p>\n

Only street artists wear.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

It\u2019s been years since I last saw that picture<\/p>\n

And I\u2019m hating myself now,<\/p>\n

Because I didn\u2019t print it<\/p>\n

And now I can\u2019t put it on a frame<\/p>\n

With the other two we have together,<\/p>\n

When we were too young to know<\/p>\n

We didn\u2019t like each other.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

It was a weird time,<\/p>\n

The one immortalized,<\/p>\n

Because boys that age are shorter than girls,<\/p>\n

12-year-old girls are too tall.<\/p>\n

So she\u2019s towering over me,<\/p>\n

A symbol of what would come,<\/p>\n

An allegory of what she was going to mean to me,<\/p>\n

A metaphor of my future relationship with her,<\/p>\n

Her making me feel minuscule<\/p>\n

And fat,<\/p>\n

Extremely fat,<\/p>\n

And also ugly, and maybe too dark-skinned,<\/p>\n

And poorly dressed.<\/p>\n

Because she\u2019s wearing sunglasses and a beanie,<\/p>\n

And her breast is not as flat as it was the year prior,<\/p>\n

And that\u2019s starting to trouble me,<\/p>\n

Because girls are becoming something different,<\/p>\n

And I can\u2019t face different,<\/p>\n

Maybe I can\u2019t stand different,<\/p>\n

And my face in that picture shows<\/p>\n

That everything\u2019s changing<\/p>\n

And I\u2019m not having it.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

And we\u2019re both smiling:<\/p>\n

She, because she\u2019s becoming a beautiful woman and she knows it;<\/p>\n

Me? I don\u2019t know why the fuck I\u2019m smiling,<\/p>\n

Because life\u2019s about to become real hard<\/p>\n

And I should\u2019ve known it.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

In the end, it\u2019s just a photo,<\/p>\n

An old, forgotten photo<\/p>\n

She definitely doesn\u2019t remember<\/p>\n

And that I had also forgotten<\/p>\n

Until now.<\/p>\n

And that\u2019s really unfortunate,<\/p>\n

Because from now on<\/p>\n

I\u2019ll always have it in my head,<\/p>\n

Even if I know,<\/p>\n

Deep down,<\/p>\n

That she doesn\u2019t deserve my attention anymore.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Why bother at all? Are we even the same people, after all these years?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Jasmine<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Everyone said,<\/p>\n

When she invited me to her House,<\/p>\n

That she wanted to fuck me,<\/p>\n

But I knew she\u2019s not like that,<\/p>\n

Or maybe she is,<\/p>\n

But not with me,<\/p>\n

Never with me.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Someone like me could never be<\/p>\n

With someone like her,<\/p>\n

But I still stupidly bought condoms,<\/p>\n

Some random type,<\/p>\n

The white ones that kill the sperm<\/p>\n

Or something like that<\/p>\n

(Aren\u2019t they all the same?).<\/p>\n

The last time I had to buy some of those<\/p>\n

I was younger and thinner and smaller<\/p>\n

And had a girlfriend who loved me.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

It was raining, of course,<\/p>\n

Like in every Fincher movie.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t have an umbrella,<\/p>\n

So someone from the Opus Dei gave me one,<\/p>\n

A very religious guy<\/p>\n

Who would die if he had known<\/p>\n

I was planning to get laid<\/p>\n

With a girl I had only seen through a screen.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

And I\u2019m not that kind of guy,<\/p>\n

I swear.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m not your usual Latin American douche,<\/p>\n

Who thinks that every girl that talks to him<\/p>\n

Only wants to suck his dick.<\/p>\n

But sometimes you trust the wrong guys<\/p>\n

And let yourself go,<\/p>\n

And start thinking like them<\/p>\n

And end up wearing jeans and boots,<\/p>\n

Because no one gets laid in joggers and sneakers.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

So I get there,<\/p>\n

Without nicotine in my veins,<\/p>\n

Because I didn\u2019t want to smoke before the\u2026<\/p>\n

Before whatever would happen happened.<\/p>\n

And I\u2019m positive there\u2019s one word,<\/p>\n

One fucking word, just one,<\/p>\n

What would make me worthy of a kiss<\/p>\n

Or something more,<\/p>\n

But I don\u2019t know that word,<\/p>\n

And I think I\u2019m better off not knowing it.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She hadn\u2019t told me what floor she lived in,<\/p>\n

So I\u2019m waiting there,<\/p>\n

And it\u2019s poring now,<\/p>\n

And my college stuff is getting wet,<\/p>\n

Little droplets stab my papers and smear my ink.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

And I\u2019m starting to get a little anxious,<\/p>\n

I haven\u2019t seen a naked woman in a year and a half.<\/p>\n

And she finally talks to me through the intercom,<\/p>\n

And her voice is as sweet as I figured it would be,<\/p>\n

And she remotely opens the door,<\/p>\n

And I walk up the stairs,<\/p>\n

And there\u2019s this man that comes out of nowhere,<\/p>\n

A security guy who looks like Steve Buscemi.<\/p>\n

And by his looks<\/p>\n

And my looks<\/p>\n

I\u2019m sure he thought I\u2019m a delinquent,<\/p>\n

But\u00a0 I shrug it off and keep going upstairs.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I\u2019m in the second floor now<\/p>\n

And it\u2019s so humble it breaks my heart.<\/p>\n

And there\u2019s music coming from somewhere,<\/p>\n

Snobby French music,<\/p>\n

And I know it\u2019s her who\u2019s listening to it.<\/p>\n

And I\u2019m a bit lost,<\/p>\n

Because I\u2019m stupid and my heart is not pumping the right way,<\/p>\n

So she has to open the door to meet me halfway,<\/p>\n

Standing there,<\/p>\n

Gigantic,<\/p>\n

Deformed,<\/p>\n

Awkward,<\/p>\n

But I know she doesn\u2019t care,<\/p>\n

I know she sees through me,<\/p>\n

Past me,<\/p>\n

Like poets do.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The first thing I notice,<\/p>\n

Of course,<\/p>\n

Is that she\u2019s not wearing a bra,<\/p>\n

And the 15 year old in me wants to scream and shout.<\/p>\n

And we\u2019re supposed to study,<\/p>\n

But she\u2019s having some boring lunch,<\/p>\n

Something I know well,<\/p>\n

A vegetarian stupidity,<\/p>\n

Because of course she\u2019s a vegetarian,<\/p>\n

Like I was before I stopped caring.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

We don\u2019t study right away,<\/p>\n

We talk instead,<\/p>\n

About nothing and everything,<\/p>\n

About her tattoos, that I respect<\/p>\n

Because they\u2019re not meaningless<\/p>\n

(She lets me touch one of them,<\/p>\n

So I do,<\/p>\n

And she has hair growing there,<\/p>\n

But it doesn\u2019t gross me out like it should),<\/p>\n

About the boy she likes,<\/p>\n

A boy that could be me<\/p>\n

If I grew out a moustache<\/p>\n

And read more poetry<\/p>\n

But isn\u2019t,<\/p>\n

Because it\u2019s never me.<\/p>\n

And that\u2019s when I realize<\/p>\n

We won\u2019t fuck,<\/p>\n

And I\u2019m relieved in a way<\/p>\n

And weirdly glad,<\/p>\n

Because I\u2019m losing a one night stand<\/p>\n

But I\u2019m gaining a friend,<\/p>\n

A good one.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

We\u2019re not similar,<\/p>\n

We\u2019re not alike,<\/p>\n

But she opened her heart to me<\/p>\n

And I made her laugh.<\/p>\n

Maybe we like some of the same authors<\/p>\n

(Borges, Buzzati),<\/p>\n

But I don\u2019t love poetry like she does,<\/p>\n

And I think La La Land is better than Moonlight,<\/p>\n

And Cort\u00e1zar is not so great in my opinion,<\/p>\n

But she doesn\u2019t seem to care<\/p>\n

And me neither,<\/p>\n

Because there\u2019s something more powerful uniting us,<\/p>\n

Something I can\u2019t quite put my finger on,<\/p>\n

But something I\u2019m sure exists,<\/p>\n

Even if it shouldn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

****<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

As I walk the steps I had walked<\/p>\n

I started wondering how long it will take<\/p>\n

For her to abhor me like all the rest<\/p>\n

And abandon me forever,<\/p>\n

But then the rain stopped,<\/p>\n

And as the sun appeared once again<\/p>\n

I saw a blue butterfly setting on a white jasmine,<\/p>\n

And that\u2019s when I knew for sure,<\/p>\n

Like one knows things in dreams,<\/p>\n

That se and I will be fine,<\/p>\n

Even if nothing happens<\/p>\n

And we never see each other again.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Future<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

So you want to become a tarot reader<\/p>\n

And throw cards at strangers?<\/p>\n

I won\u2019t laugh, I promise:<\/p>\n

I\u2019d never laugh at you.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

You want to drop out from law school<\/p>\n

On your last year<\/p>\n

And become a psychologist?<\/p>\n

That\u2019s okay, you do you.<\/p>\n

I won\u2019t judge you,<\/p>\n

I\u2019d never pass judgement on you.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

You don\u2019t know what to do with your life?<\/p>\n

Me neither.<\/p>\n

Actually, I\u2019m more lost than you.<\/p>\n

I know it doesn\u2019t seem like it,<\/p>\n

But we\u2019re both adrift,<\/p>\n

And I\u2019d love to share the ride with you.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I wonder if you\u2019ll ever be a mother.<\/p>\n

I always thought that would be out of character.<\/p>\n

But people change,<\/p>\n

And you\u2019re not 16 anymore.<\/p>\n

So maybe you\u2019d like to have a child eventually.<\/p>\n

I know I don\u2019t,<\/p>\n

But who cares about me?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I can\u2019t picture you married<\/p>\n

Or really in love with a man,<\/p>\n

An adult.<\/p>\n

I know you had many boyfriends,<\/p>\n

But the ring changes everything.<\/p>\n

I wouldn\u2019t like to see you walk down the aisle,<\/p>\n

All in white,<\/p>\n

Petals on the carpet,<\/p>\n

The groom waiting for you,<\/p>\n

Hotter than me,<\/p>\n

Taller,<\/p>\n

Slimmer,<\/p>\n

With a bigger dick.<\/p>\n

But I don\u2019t have to worry about it:<\/p>\n

You\u2019d never invite me anyways.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Will you ever have wrinkles or white hair?<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t want to see that.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s not that I wouldn\u2019t love your old you,<\/p>\n

But to me you\u2019ll always be 16,<\/p>\n

And maybe that\u2019s sick,<\/p>\n

It\u2019s definitely sick,<\/p>\n

Because one day I\u2019ll be too old,<\/p>\n

And the thing will turn from cute to creepy.<\/p>\n

Probably that day has come already,<\/p>\n

But I\u2019m only 24,<\/p>\n

So maybe I shouldn\u2019t worry too much.<\/p>\n

Right?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Dead? You? No.<\/p>\n

You cannot die.<\/p>\n

At least not before me.<\/p>\n

I\u2019d hate to go to the funeral,<\/p>\n

Full of strangers you loved more than me<\/p>\n

Weeping for a woman only I really knew.<\/p>\n

Besides, I\u2019d have to visit you constantly,<\/p>\n

And even I can tell that\u2019s creepy.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

2020 is ending and I don\u2019t know<\/p>\n

If you\u2019re happy or sad,<\/p>\n

Dead or alive,<\/p>\n

Alone or engaged.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

2021 is approaching.<\/p>\n

Will anything change at all?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Ode on a Photo Taken Somewhere Around December 2008   A moment frozen in eternity, A picture I\u2019m sure no one remembers But me. A frame, a slice, a moment Of a life that was never fulfilling<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1494,77],"tags":[1495,1123,1505],"class_list":["post-13552","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-egophobia-67","category-english","tag-egophobia-67","tag-english","tag-felipe-rodolfo-hendriksen"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6DakB-3wA","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13552","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=13552"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13552\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":13553,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13552\/revisions\/13553"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=13552"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=13552"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=13552"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}