Saturday, December 4, 2010

if

if you don't miss me every single minute of every hour
you are away from me
then
you don't deserve me
seu cara de cú!
Insults are regenerating
in case you don't know.
So I repeat
você não me merece
seu cara de buceta!
the bodily grotesque is always appealing.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

the door

i shut the door
no yelling
and crying is low
to make me happy
you wanted to make me happy
forced your way through the door
to make me happy
you said
i quoted an old dead Greek woman poet
if you have a swan you are no longer free to kill yourself
i know because i have a swan
but you never even had a fish
and you came to get me
because you would make me happy
you said
it was fast
the crying is low
and does nothing
nothing
for me
or my swan
if only i didn't have a swan
i could close the door

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

maybe so

 no idea what happened to life
 if i had one,
no sense in looking for it.
After all these years

died and came back

the same mistakes.
whomever i should have been
I have been nothing but
the beginning and the end of the ones I love
the ones who loved me.

But love.
Stranger than the language I write in this instant.
a misunderstanding, a place in which i think i am.
about to be full precise dense intense blue and purple
dims vaguely in the horizon
what promise was written nowhere?
no one whispered to me
into what underworld should i descend to find  it?

Monday, October 25, 2010

Não morro mais...

Não morro mais,
enquanto por mim respiras sigo vivendo,
a boca transmigra-se na tua boca
e eu sigo na língua e no calor do beijo

Não morro mais,
pois seria inveja da terra
dos bichos e do dia,
e esses não mais importam
pois que sou ar apenas

ou palavra talvez

que outras coisas poderiam ser minha boca
na tua boca?

I want to die before you leave,
and leave you shall,
and dead I'll be
for air cannot be without a body.
Or can it?

You answer:
we breath the same pulse,
my words become one with you

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Para o João do Mar

Ever since you left that i desperately tried to find this song. i heard it in your room, i believe you even played it... or maybe we just heard it together someplace. Its for you Jonathan, wherever you are.

where did my baby go?

where did she go? my baby girl who lied wrapped up inside of me? cozy and warm? did i loose her? i might have lost her...i kept loosing my babies, for they were so tiny, difficult to find, slipping off my fingers... I remember looking for them under the pillows on my grandmother's couch. The yellow golden one person's couch. I guess you don't call that couch... but I thought i had let the babies slip off onto it, and maybe onto the floor... Those were the dream babies, who talked already, a couple of months old only smiled at me while complaining i'd let them drown in the bath water...hell no, but I sure was scared... so that i wouldn't be scared, so that i wouldn't loose them again the man took my warm cozy bag from the inside of me, no more bag, no more babies. you can't take care of them so punished you will be. Bad lady said the ugly fat middle aged man who cut me open like a butcher. I found all of my children, except one. pitiful the whole affair.

bubu

I don't want to wake up bubu, you scared me... you looked like an heffalump...maybe because its Halloween, maybe... but still bubu, i don't want to wake up, you scared me so much i'm afraid of waking up to see you again... let me sleep bubu, if i sleep long enough you might stop scaring me.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

plagio da autora, autor conhecido não identificado

"E raios partam os que te fazem infeliz. Eu, agora e aqui, bebia-lhes o
sangue... e bebia o teu, devagarinho, para te absorver, como um liquido
precioso, e depois, cheio ou prenhe de ti, morreria feliz contigo e com um
sorriso nos meus labios,

que te beijam, coisa linda, que nao mereces o que a vida te tem dado, nem as
sacanices que eu tambem te fiz."


"And God damn the ones that make you miserable. I, here and now, would slowly drink their blood... and i'd drink yours, slowly, to absorb you, like a precious liquid, and after, full or pregnant of you, i'd die happy with you and with a smile on my lips,


that kiss you, beautiful thing who do not deserve what life has given you, nor the despicable things i also did to you."


i'm tired, as i have been for a very long time, life seems to be a poor taste movie in which the same scenes repeat endlessly. why did you have to be the same? why couldn't you be precious? unique? why did you have to prove it right?... now i wait and lay sleeplessly, wondering what morning will bring that i have not yet seen. pls God make me wake up to a brave new world, or just a new world... maybe just another world, in which people love people with love in their arms, in their words, in their walking steps and in their silent dreams. wake me up to that God or don't wake me up at all for i am very very tired.



Friday, October 1, 2010

go

do I have a plan? no, I didn't have it before, I don't have it now. are you guilty of my misery without you? am I guilty for knowing it might happen? guilt has no business here, and that's about the only thing i need to say right now. love has saved me and killed me many times. many times i have come back from the dead as if I had never lived before. i will do it again if it comes to it. but i think we will go. we will go together because nothing was supposed to be and yet it was. simply because you wished for it and i didn't stop you. i won't stop you now either. we will go.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Não sei se amei a ti...

Não sei se amei a ti
ou ao teu amor por mim
tão pouco sei se amei quem és
ou quem sonhei
apenas sei que amei alguém
que um dia me amou também.
Quando clamares por mim
na verdade seca do sonho acabado
vinte anos de hoje já passados
lembra-te que pelo menos para mim
o sonho não tem fim
e que o anjo que um dia vi
é o mesmo anjo que nos lê aqui

Sunday, June 27, 2010

tanto amei...

"tanto amei teu amor, que confesso, desorientei...perdi noção, louca e poeta que sou, não pude resistir" Flávio Venturini



não me adoras já,
passou o tempo em que tua deusa me fazia
senhora, amada, querida, criança
teus braços o mundo minha alma meu colo te oferecia

o altar teus olhos, anjo barroco que do céu caíste
não me adoras já, teus beijos inteiros de minha boca não mais
e porque teu amor não é terço meu centro resiste
e em águas não escorre curva de rio que agora sou,
acumulo terras e minha boca pedras, mas meu peito persiste

e me amas te amo apesar
do pesar
mas nosso amor imenso correu do rio para o mar
teus olhos incenso aceso luar
na noite te ouvi afastando-se o cantar
tanto amei que mais não tens para me dar

tanto amaste que no meu peito te afogaste

Monday, June 21, 2010

18 de Julho de 1888...


Querida amiga

as suas palavras são como a sua pele, suave como a noite que cai. Na noite adormecida guarde um sonho para mim.

 Seu amigo do coração.

18 de Julho de 2008 (7.53 pm)

Gostei dos teus beijos. São suaves os teus lábios. Guarda uma noite para nós. Beijinho. Até amanhã.

19 de Julho de 2008 (3.01 am)


Então o concerto foi giro? Já viste a lua? Agora também te dava um beijo redondo como a lua. Um beijo.

 (1.47 pm)

Estou em casa ainda, vou comer alguma coisa e vou para lá...e a menina? Beijo.

(7.04 pm)

Ainda pensei que te conseguia roubar um beijo mas já não fui a tempo. Deixaste-me fora de mim. Um beijo molhado, num sítio à minha escolha. Até logo (espero eu!)

(8.08 pm)

Amo-te.

19 de Julho de 1888

Minha amiga do coração
a música que tocou esta noite encantou a lua no céu apenas porque lá de cima a lua espreitava o seu rosto, redonda a lua imitava o seu sorriso e a luz que oferecia era a luz do seu peito aberto ás cordas, acordes, a música que a leva sempre em direcção ao mesmo céu onde eu queria estar, apenas para lhe dar um beijo...dar-lhe-ía um beijo minha amiga, um beijo redondo como essa lua que a alumia. Um beijo aqui lhe deixo.

A madrugada vai longe, a manhã já passada...e de si, nada...preparo-me para almoçar e depois irei até ao caminho da marginal. E a menina? Encontrá-la-ei?

Deram as sete da tarde e nada, ainda sonhei que conseguiria roubar-lhe um beijo mas já não fui a tempo. Deixa-me fora de mim, devo confessá-lo...dormirei sonhando com esse beijo, molhado das águas do mar que salpicam o seu rosto. Amo-a já, com todo o meu ser.

Friday, June 18, 2010

17 de Julho de 2008 (11.23 am)


Sou eu, na folha escreveste a seguir ao teu número"se te apetecer alguma coisa"e agora apetece-me
apetece-me voltar a agradecer-te pelas palavras que escreveste.
São muito bonitas. Obrigado. Beijo.

17 de Julho de 1888

Minha cara amiga
na carta que me deixou oferecia-me a possibilidade de voltar a contactá-la, para o que fosse...pois hoje não pude resistir ao impulso de lhe agradecer do fundo da minha alma as palavras que me dedicou. São belas minha amiga, como o seu sorriso. Um simples obrigado não lhe faria justiça, atrevo-me assim a deixar-lhe os meus préstimos, para o que for.

de novo e sempre frente às escadas






de novo e sempre frente às escadas te encontro,
cabelos de fogo sobre a janela inusitada de um tempo
que não passa a não ser nas horas.
de novo em português quero ser voz
dos pássaros alados que de tua boca me alcançam
beijada enfim
sem que línguas de marfim se enrolem ao redor do não.
os dias infindos para além do mar onde nos busco
te deram o sim como sinal do amor
sem agora ontem ou depois janela frente às escadas
onde teus dedos bússula e meus dedos vento
do norte em teus cabelos,
irmãos amantes amados amaríamos
acaso tua boca
tivesse eu deixado em ninhos
gaivotas simplesmente planando
ao redor dos sons roucos de teus dedos
em meus centros sem compasso
distendendo planaltos nos sábios lábios do sim
do amor que ditaste acaso
quando escadas se estendem eternas,
e nelas te sentas teus braços lanças
talvez moreias
ao redor de mim
eu que tentei o tempo sem mágoa
quantos anos sem relógio
pois que sabe o tempo de um amor assim
e não sabes tu que poeta não passam os anos sobre mim?
ah que nada importa se beijada fui
mel e açucar mascavado sulcos e mastos
deixando seus rastos na memória do que sempre
seremos, lembrando, serenos, tuas rugas sol ardente
que
como sempre
lambo curando inventando teu corpo incólume
sobre mim
pois que poeta te desenho
e poeta não passam os anos sobre ti.
e quando mergulhes caçando moreias
finalmente cansadas exaustas suadas
saciadas do que jamais foi fuga mas apenas luta,
oferenda me faço troféu do desejo
trespassado por teu porte masto onde me agarro
galgadas as escadas que por mim sobes.
Homem que assim és como te quero
quando me derreto lava de cabelos
espalhada na brancura dos lençóis
teus olhos sorrindo para mim
moreia derreada nos teus braços
sorrindo para ti.
E assim seja de novo e sempre

Monday, May 17, 2010

why don't you

why don't you just slit my wrists open?
       because its easy, you do that pretty good yourself

Friday, May 7, 2010

joy

i will remember as i remember how to breath, the roof where we balance between the sun and the wind, your eyes reflecting my shiny bright blue shape because i am made of rainbows when i yell in between laughter and fear that you might let me fall. just jump. i will remember the hands catching me as i let go, the sheets laid on the roof so i wouldn't scar. the pillows so my head could rest. above all i will remember you pushed me up, that it was up you pushed me. up on the roof under which your room lays its warm walls around me and there is no water. and we drink until there is no more water, again. and we drink. i will write underneath your pictures, above them, on them. and with no water we will go on drinking. laughing so loud the neighbors will suspend life to breath it in. stretching between 1966 and 1986 a roof where we stand upon. for on the ground only grass, busy ants, and the pillars that sustain our roof between here and forever.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

insanity

insanity killing love, love being killed by spurs of insanity that travel with us all our life yes, that I had seen, that I know...but insanity that prevents you from being loved, that kills the love within you, insanity that digs deep dark wells where i cannot even peek creating a horror of misery and alienation...no, not that... Ave Maria, Mother of Mercy, Sweetness of Life, Hope of ours, Hail... pray for us so that we are worthy of the promises of Christ. I am good and kind, my wells have never been your wells. Those dark wells are on tv alone, not among us, not among us. I'm afraid.

dead or deaf?

 i can't hear it beat anymore.
are we dead?
or just deaf?

Holy Mother, Holy Father

i don't wait for you anymore for it has been half a millennium you carved yourself inside of me
where you are what you do with whom you are matters little or maybe nothing

silver and gold engraved in skin

yours or mine
 matters so little

i just wished the branding had made us saner


 





Tuesday, May 4, 2010

cole porter (and us)

the man i love
sat diligently facing me
every single day
for more days than i can count
for my memory is gone
he looked at me and smiled
and came my way
and i talked to that man
in front of my face
offering me solace
and scents long gone
from my body
absent
for so many years
it took me so long to understand
it took me a little while
to hold his hand
the man i love came my way
i do my best to make him stay
he looks at me and smiles
and understands
he came Monday
Tuesday
Wednesday
and Friday
and slowly built a home
for two
while i looked astounded
he looked at me and smiled
I understand
and though it seems absurd
I know we both won't say a word
when we sit on the roof
staring
onto
up above

why?

another second has passed
and the pieces of glass
in the center of my eyes
still
shed
tears
of
blood
that swirl with the silence
in the middle of your room

why?
if happiness used to stand still on the window sill?
why?

honey bee

honey bee talk to me
the summer will be over
the ants will sleep
my golden skin
hidden under the bright light
of our hands
holding the rays away
honey bee don't sting me
if you do i will cry
if you do you might die
honey bee let's cross the ocean
to the other side
on an Italian vessel
where bugs and bees look just
like you and me
honey
bee
be
the one i know you to be
hold on to the honey
don't let it drip
unless my mouth is passing underneath
in which case
i'll stick my tongue out
feel it
sticky sweetie
you and me

silence is still something

silence is still something
she said
so i guess i can hear something
but maybe because my English is broken
and your Portuguese is shattered
i can only hear bits of silence
that tell me very little
that maybe you slept
that maybe you left
that maybe happiness has stepped out
for sadness is what lingers
in-between these bits of silence
through which i put my ear against the wall
trying to hear
i wait
and wait
and wait
i don't know exactly for what
but i wait
since i can't hear you
and thus being i can't leave
for silence is like a knot around my wrists
tied around my neck
everytime i push it
it suffocates me a little more
i can't hear you love
didn't you say you love me?...
          

Monday, May 3, 2010

67

crying so very much and laughing loud and clear
we are 67 years old
endless laughter on nonsense jokes
rasp moves and outbursts
to make us laugh
to make us cry
while the stars on my face
have long ago imprinted on yours
and all my As dripped onto Ps
and all the Ws onto 4 more
all the Cs
dripped onto Gs
and Cs
and probably at least 6 more
according to her wishes
i clean the counter
and don't eat
i'm resolved to wait till you learn
Portuguese
i can go without eating for a really long time
i can wait until it is time to jump
off the airplane
hand in hand and the heart on our backs
about to open loose a parachute
so we land laying down slowly
easily
quietly
what language do they speak in Heaven?
Maybe we can go for a bite then...

Thursday, April 29, 2010

dream

licking each other's tears
laughing our lips crimson red
kissing each other upside down
until kisser and kissed
can't be tell apart
you waited for me for five hundred and forty-seven days
i will wait for your time, late in life
for my time to be early
so i can catch you before the clock
beats the hour
today and tomorrow
now.
we are here every now.
we know
i write
to tell you
what i told you
what you told me
you are late so late
still i repeat
today
dream with me
awaken and asleep
if we dream
the now is
tomorrow
and today is
everyday

Saturday, April 24, 2010

raining

amor from an hidden place
darkened by years of thunder
and rain
love vieste tão de leve que te achei de menos
de manhã presente de tarde intensamente
e eu na cegueira improvisada
pois que se me toldava o querer
no cheiro persistente
de teu corpo fino
no olfacto raro
que me leva aos píncaros
me eleva a Deusa
e te faz uma espécie de santo
qual Xavier incólume
nos meus dedos de ti
virgens

never knew the rain
would make it grow from the inside
out
esperando impaciente que me tombasse do altar
aproximaste-te da pia baptismal e tomaste para ti
o nascimento de outra criatura
menos santa
menos pura
mistura de gente e de animal
que se te cola nas entranhas
como se mel de mim foras

we now wait for time to stand still
and keep on raining

leftovers e outras coisas que tal

i feed on leftovers
                       não que me alimente de restos
                       mas alimentam-me os sinais
the note on the fridge
                       o sal esquecido do oceano Pacífico
                       na beira da prateleira
the garbage bag on wait
                       há muito me estranha a espera
                       hora adiantada
                       onde esperei desacertada
the toothbrush
                       a ilusão da estada, a contagem dos dias
                       que hão-de perfazer dois mil e tantos
                       pois que preciso de ir-me antes que acabem
i leave them all over
reminding me
i'm not alone
é que o esquecimento alagou a estrada e os carros de bois
despencaram ladeira abaixo e eu mirando o rio
onde não nadam os animais
simplesmente se espalham como areia na praia
não nadam não, é a água que os empurra adiante
na correnteza certa do mar à vista
marinheiros de curta viagem
os bois apearão à frente
e eu, mais uma vez, guiarei boiada
alagada desmemoriada o sorriso aberto
a convidar à madrugada...entrai!

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

kiss

             kiss me my love
     kiss me
i don't feel like kissing
today
jump over the bed
up
                            and down
down am I
up

        are the legs
jumping
    hold me
       my hand
no jumping
nor                 up
nor

down
      when we kiss the world goes gray
fuck the world
i don't feel like kissing

I sew

your ghost
comes through the little happiness i managed to let come to me
in the midst of the salt of my tears
covering the scars of torture
you are not truly dead
i felt the blade of your indifference
last night
i heard the goals of your misery
metamorphosed in a game
where i always loose
the blunt metal blade carves into my mouth
ever so slowly
my lips unkissed on the floor
covered with
the blood that still drips off my eyes.
and darkness befriending me
offering relieve
from the bottomless hole of pain
where i float asunder.
i embrace it
hoping that in the morning you
and your blunt sword
have left the room
at least for another month or so

shivering
wrapped up in the soiled cloths
that cleaned the carpet
i sew
i sew incessantly
i will sew my lips my eyes
back on
and happiness will peek
from between each stitch

the pins i pull out at every stitch
of the needle sewing flesh
the pins i stuck
in your shadow
against the bright light of the window
the pins will keep you still
at least for a month more
so i can smile and let dreams approach as if i weren't a patch
a patch
another patch
sewn together
a skin quilt
perhaps
me

happiness looks me in the eye
that i gently grab of the floor
happiness looks at me from that eye
that i sew
amidst tears of hope
since tomorrow
you won't be able to hurt me
your shadow
pinned down
hauling
at the sound of
happiness behind closed doors.
i sew.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

If it were true

truth is self evident
lips remain sealed
a pregnancy
a delivery
a child
hands holding each other
holding onto each other

and the mouth is quiet
so very quiet
lips kissing other lips

Monday, March 29, 2010

if...

its glorious
pure
blue
shine
and your skin in mine
is my skin in yours
you stay
if its bad
worse
and sometimes unbearable
you stay
and then alone
will you know
its love

Thursday, March 11, 2010

still here

since you left me to my exile
i got pregnant of stones
gave birth to pure desire
and conceived the possibility
of existing beyond borders

just delicate dangers
small
stuck between narrow streets
that i never left

i conceived soil
and give birth over this city
as if my uterus isn't gone

since i stayed
i lay in bed with dangers
delicate

and I deliver

useless
love.
In
exile

I smile, a still-born
smelling Lisbon in Ohio.

But next time
when I'm reborn

the poorest in-between droughts
and sterile land
God's laughing stock

I still won't leave
I'll stay I'll stay
for this
that you left me in
is nought

i fill in with delicate dangers
smelling Lisbon in Ohio

out of here

if i had leprosy
i could mail myself
out of here
little
by little
you'd only have to put back together
all the pieces
how much of a craftsman are you?

Monday, March 8, 2010

Sophia "Nunca mais servirei..." trans.

"nunca mais servirei Senhor que possa morrer"
never again will I love a Lord whom may die
never again will I serve a man who may die
never again will I serve Lord who may die
"nunca mais servirei Senhor"
never again will I serve a Lord
never again will I love Lord
never again will I love a man
"nunca mais servirei"
never again will I serve
never again will I love
never again
never

ppronomes

às vezes faltas-me no pronome reflexo
posto agora pronome oblíquo indireto

filhos da puta, (i wish i could insult them in English)

senão sair não é que morra pois que já morri
é que se me acaba a gana de os matar a todos
à pedrada
pela ignomínia com que me deixaram aqui
os filhos da puta
que hão-de morrer engasgados
com cada letra que a rir cuspi

Jorge de Sena, Poema V in Poesia III

"[... ] quando por ti clamo, neste silêncio
em que de ti fiquei
não é senão o libertar do encanto
que foste ao longe
à luz do mar aceso
e à luz que te recorta é que estou preso"

o silêncio

às vezes o silêncio é só um inferno de vozes
mas aqui
hoje
é o berço do nada
das viúvas esganadas
das meninas estrupradas
à vez
a quietude de
quem espera a bala
a flecha atravessada
pela garganta acesa
de todas as vozes caladas
aqui o silêncio é a capela
da minha casa
perdida nos pesadelos sonhados
onde deitada esperava  José Maria
de Ganso e Gançoso
que vinha na calada da noite
estrangular-me o choro
o silêncio da minha casa
aquietou-se aqui.

to no one

tired as the winds from Cape Verde over Fogo
trying time and again to blow it down
tired of the silence that even in cemiteries
is louder than in my house
weary of your forgotten voice
that lays together with Adrian, the Emperor
together in me
in my little soul
who will never see the light
again
one day
like all others
like his
oh no
i'm just tired of wondering if love letters
are still love letters when not read
by you
tired as the sands are tired
of shrieking
in Guincho

Sunday, March 7, 2010

in Portuguese

do not make me cry again
for tears will erase the traces of the lines
i drew across your body
paper where i inscribe the future
to be read by your future lovers
reflecting but glimpses of you
as i open my eyes from the dreams
we dreamt
to find them oblivious to your scent
porous skin where the ink rests
from the speed of my pen
writing rapid incisive certainly
(happily
you wanted me to say)

In the papyrus of your skin
where hieroglyphs that only i can decipher
consider the future
where no tears are shed
i cry not onto flimsy reflections
of you
i fear
already
so soon
sooner than anyone can see
though they will love me
maybe more maybe less

my love
you will depart much sooner than I
leaving me here
blowing the ashes
i can not keep

(for she won't let me)

so with her i'll scatter you over the sea

where i dive
while they know nothing of me
and you
and the tears we shed in-between
the sheets and the legs and the tongues
and the thousand words
blurred by the sweat of us
transferred onto the sheets
where I lay them
oblivious to me
and you
for none of them
none of them will ever read
Portuguese
and in none of them
none of them
will I write
amor
in long curvaceous calligraphy
accompanying the shape
of your body
now ashes
blown
over the roundness of the waves
you and I alone
made
the day
I recorded the whispers
you blew in my ear
so I would not forget

my dreamy Portuguese
woman
disremembered
all
but the words
we agreed to inscribe in her body

burnt

today

all gone
but the love of me
yet, I write not
in Portuguese

by Poseidon

mesmerizing under water
the flow from the currents
wrapping through her waist
and her mouth opened to
the cascade of drops
that drips from his mouth
onto the rivers
that flow through her
onto the sea
diving from the heights
swirling in the undercurrents
to simply be swallowed
by her
almost a mermaid
possessed by Poseidon
made waves and spume
diving into her
wanting to drown
just to spit the same water
into her mouth
all over again
mesmerizing

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

i sit

i sit over the fence of life
and balance idle and futile
over death
death will come
weather we flirt or not

Sim

sim
uma vez apenas
ladeada de flores
ondulada de amores
tonturas de sim
entre beijos e outros tantos
que não digo aqui
pois que aqui cabe
apenas
o
sim
que subiu por mim acima como uma serpente quente
seguindo por minha boca abaixo
para se acabar num arrepio
latejando em mim
o
tal
Sim

menininha...

noite noite menininha quase minha
crescendo pequena ainda
na beirada da portada
pronta para seguir caminho
noite noite menininha quase sua
levemente batendo na janela
dessa casa abandonada onde cresci
que se ergue imensa na noite
onde gente grande se perde
e se encontra menininha senhora
o tempo no espelho retrato de ontem
entre as páginas que escrevi
buscando ainda ainda sempre sim
a casa onde nasci.

Magic Miracles and Dreams

the magic of love
or the love miracles
or the dreams of life
we envision
slowly wrapped up
in the waves of blue
we send each other
starfish glowing in the night
sea-horses carrying all the children
whom we let spill on the towel
brown
children
holding love in their hands
filled with wet balls of sand
thrown onto the sea
to be the game of fish
such is the magic of love
you holding green hearings
in my hands
and my face across the wall
through your hands
alone
or do we dream together?
in duos?
in trios?
in trees and forests and immense jungles of green?
do we?
I rub the children with the towel
rub the sand of the legs
that you hold in your hands
and let you sleep
naked warm smiling sleeping
dreaming
while I drive onto the Amazon
where dreams are eaten just to make us stand up
loud proud luxuriously intertwined
like another dream borne anew
while milk spills onto your mouth
chocolate
and milk
and children
I laugh for only I see clearly
the dreams you dream
lets go... let him sleep.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

for now

when the rain falls intermitently
and your lips open slightly
your tongue reaching quietly
honey dripping from your mouth
and your sucking fingers 
the bubbling overflowing burning water
drizzling on your back
and the line of wet drenched white clothes
barely waving 
the hem of my long blue skirt under
dragging
laughing
feet
splurging in the pond

or maybe just a tall glass of
hot
red
wine
I really can't tell for sure

just cool down
for now

Thursday, February 18, 2010

judas, maybe magdalene

she left three times
the first time i couldn't tell
the second time i was almost dead
and the third
well, by the third time
it was raining
and it was dark
and still i went down the street
got on the train
and left
at her command
you said
no wonder she left
and the first time
you left i waited for the second
and the third
and now
now i'm just a shadow
on your footsteps
when the sun hits from the side
and i'm her laughter
when the cord is about
to pull itself tight
and she knows not how to be
just like you
like no one
nought

for I am gone
at your command

silence

its not that i'm afraid, i'm not
i'm just scared, in fear
so much fear
like the first time you left me
and i couldn't breath
at night
i breath i breath i breath
now
but my heart stops
in the middle of the afternoon
it stops
to remind me it can stop
at any time
at any time
just like you
you just left me there
and it was anytime
anytime
guessed in the pain
at the bottom of my stomach
when i looked through the window
your voice a memory
the future stopped
no more
so you see
its not that i'm afraid
for i breath
its that i don't know
because i breath
i still breath
even when it hurts so much
i have to sit still
and hold the silence
for even the silence
makes me throb
my body ready to leave me
for it hurts
everyday it hurts anyway
that's why tears fill the air
because salt and water
heal
they heal the scars in the lungs
in the core of my being
in the wood of my cannoe
they heal
like when a tree comes down
and the entire forest stops
it heals
i'm healing i say i'm healing
but my heart skips a beat or two
and wonders
what if not...?

sem palavras

quereria calar o desprezo
que invade escaninhos de nós
peça inusitada de quase ódio
infame desprezo
fumo que cheiro na voz
vazia repetidas as palavras
sem som sem eco
inutéis as palavras
se esvai a imensidão
da saudade que não vejo
pois sem palavra
não me és nada menino
nada

Não, não foi tesão...

Não, não foi tesão bichinha
foi amor mesmo
o que restou dos cabelos emaranhados
da boca entamarelada
dos cacos espalhados no chão
rentes à boca do inferno
foi amor
que na beira de estrada
pega caminhão
e segue em frente
serena caminhada...

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

paupers

had I been given more than poverty
I'd be darker, taller, Nubian
had my father been darker
I would have been your equal
but I will die in poverty
having you dive in it
today
I'm giving you it
the inheritance of my father
my poverty I give to you
when I laugh hair disheveled over
your legs your face
your eyes that closed in the dark
dreamt of me drew me delineated me
beyond what I ever was
or will be
my poverty I offer you in honesty
in large richness in abundance
wine and milk
my poverty I spill over you
every time we laugh together
and your body quivers
accepting it taking it devouring it
for poverty
knows no end
south of us
longing days

one instant far away
you will quiver
from remembering in the dark
me
and we will still be poor
love not to be contained

my hair someone else will find
growing through the craves...

Monday, February 15, 2010

the same compass

I will kiss you a hundred times and a hundred more
back from the dead I'll stand kissing you
ebony gold and sugar of a thousand years gone
when we were nothing but glimpses of us
in sorrowful hopeless faces crossing the path
of hell
we have stood high and clear above the sky
and from our love a zillion eyes will shine
for in our lifetime we redeemed morning and
night
and the path will be bright
and from a thousand years from now
they will still be smiling
for we found our family
in the midst of confounded legs
and sweaty arms and shiny limbs
of years that in you and me are nothing
and nothing will be
through us and a lifetime to be
they will smile in wonder
and might even agree
that it was worth while
for us to breath
in the same compass
back and forth
ship behind
another ship ahead
for no one knows where
love carries its bed.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

effortlessly

change your legs to mine
your arms to mine
I can drag you for awhile
effortlessly
onto the offering altar.
there you will rest
with white roses
and blessed water
in the hands of Nãna
for you have crossed storms
and tempests
and the roar still echoes from
under the mud
now and then
now and then alone.
my legs in yours
my arms made your arms
you won't have to drag me
for I am blessed and fly
from the altar to your prayers
endlessly

Sunday, February 7, 2010

my baby boy

my sweet baby boy
with so much sadness
in his arms
laughs like his mother
holds him tight

I rock him in my arms
and kiss him with my lips
and hold him so close
I may be able to get him
back inside of me
as if my baby he truly
were to be

How easy...

How easy it is to live when you are dying
swearing eternal love is grand and true
and the beauty of your lover is infinite
how easy can i breath now that i know

I can go now, just because I can invent the sea
and simply sail without thinking of the quay
I smile endlessly and the roads that tighten
my wrists seem bright and shinny

I forget know how all the men sank.
Every one of them will be buried
with me, eternally widow you'll find me
across the gates that lead to the river.

How easy it is to live when you are dying.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

I just want to say one thing

i just want to say one thing...
can I say one thing?
one thing, please I just want to say one thing
before you procceed
one...
can I?
...
can I?
... just one thing

amo-te

Adamastor was subdued 500 years ago!
Stick your fears up you know where!

how serene...

how serene it is for me

to know
the beast appeases
you

I congratulate myself
for giving you
the peace
you stole from me
in the coward hole of the night
while
the drug addict
unstable beast
who will kill you
in a fit
is simply asleep

Friday, February 5, 2010

the burning house

He stood 
on the other side
of the flames
raising 
onto the sky
like the sun.
He said "jump, don't be afraid. I'll hold you."
She calculated the distance
and
jumped.
He was able to draw the prints of the pattern of ripples that defined her identification.
I could never do that, I'd just eat your ashes together with my own blood.

orange

the walls will be orange
and yellow the ceiling
the bed be the floor
water and flowers
and in the hot-house
the cat is female
and stretches
elongating
purring against the wall
so loud
you'll hear it
across time
when a thousand years from now
no one
no one
will care

the walls are almost red
when the sound echoes the color
of heat.

"Good morning Precious!"

so precious i'll be
even without mornings
i'll be diamonds and rubies
and good...
i'll be good to you
as i've always been

a good girl

in the morning there'll be no bruises

and i'll climb on top of the stool
to reach the button
up high
on the elevator

and no one will kick me down the stairs

for I am precious and you will love me
just because.

Diamonds are stones alone.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

wishes

i heard this in another life
beware of what you wish for
you might just get it
beware of what you don't get
it might just kill you
if you stay the beast will eat you
if you run
the beast will catch you
so just live
just breath
don't fight
because in the end
its the same farm
with the same headstones

and this is certainly my favorite line
and i wish i had a picture to go with it.

History

10 years ago there was a difference of
30 years
more than a 100 years ago
there was a difference of 40
years
now there is a difference
of 20 years
and yet it is almost the same
almost precisely the same story
because history
as a way of repeating itself
however
more than a 100 years ago
when it was more than impossible
then
it happened
no one quit
no one was ashamed
and she lived for another 30 years
and that was history
not repeating itself.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

3 pm facing West

insanity
lunacy
incredibly hot
and much more than
a chance
of showers
I guarantee it was raining
heavy
I can only imagine
what the weather
will be like
in 5 days
if its this hot
we might as well go naked!

African Lusophone Studies

I now obsess about Africa
go to bed thinking of the blogs
we might post
rambling
imagining
creating
figuring out
Africa in Portuguese
but in English instead
I obsess to the point
of drawing mental maps
of all of Angola
Cape Verde
S. Tomé maybe...
the trick 
is to set you
in the middle of each map

I obsess gloriously!
One of these days
I'll wake up speaking creole
and let them know
some of my own truth
about Africa in Portuguese
though truthfully its all in English

with you

in the middle of each map.

kiss: instructions

just smell if you kiss
and when kissing
make sure you don't move your feet
let your hands around her/his waist
just go up and down very gently
its unforgivable not to kiss the neck
don't think
if you do
its over
don't breath
if you do
you'll both die
don't budge
or it will be the end of it
and my Lord!
What a shame that would be!

Monday, February 1, 2010

pôr do sol

espero pelo pôr-do-sol
como se põe
pelos teus olhos
o nosso guardei-o
nos escaninhos do leite
derramado
espero de novo pelo
teu pôr-do-sol
pois que daqui
não se vê sol
nem tanto a lua
apenas a secura
da aventura dos
sacanas
assassinos
da terra dos índios
amor
manda-me o pôr-do-sol!
só p'ra me lembrar
p'ra anunciar
e tornar público
nos jornais diários
que onde se nasce
fica o peito a alma
a altura mais alta
do gosto
quase ruivo
quase marrom
quase louro
que onde se nasce
ficas tu
que de onde se nasce
não se parte
senão para a morte
de qualquer coisa
que não o amor
o amor insano
vão inútil
incandescente
capaz de me dar vida
a mim
eu
que já tantas vezes morri
por esse pôr do sol
me ressuscitarei inteira
mais uma vez
mais outra vez
apenas e apenas
para poder um dia
finalmente
acabar-me nos teus olhos
em mim
postos

na praia de Carcavelos

engrandece-se de quase nada
dos fios do universo que se
enrodilham nas escadas
da praia de Carcavelos
bebe-se de lágrimas
e de sal
e dos teus dedos
que poderia comer
só para dizer
que se alimenta de qualquer coisa
palpável

mas não

talvez da saudade
se engrandeça o amor

Saturday, January 30, 2010

I ask...

the husky voice
the difficulty understanding
and the words taken under my wing, 
your words made mine
as your prism rotates 
on the axis of time 
your words made mine
and my body the words
in your mouth
as they dilute with
thoughts I do not utter
it was never the body
it is always the words
as they slowly linger
in between my 
worn out breasts
and drip
accumulating in my navel
overflowing 
in a thin stream
onto the center of me
gliding guiding dictionaries
and poems
and letters
and lips
all in the same direction
simply to be born
for there is where
you 
are
born...


can you still hear me????

msg

this msg is just to tell u
i lost my love smwh
if u find it
feel free 2 give it back

i'll be carrying my heart in
my wallet
in the meantime
but this is not part of the
message

its just what it is.

i know nothing of English

sometimes I run out of words
they fall off my mouth and splatter on the floor
glasses shattered by your silence
by your verbiage without one single verb
maybe its shingles you have
maybe its sheer selfish shell fish
maybe its nothing
i know nothing of English
it just takes the words away from me
that's all

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

o amor sem volúpia

o amor sem volúpia
alguma
o amor
e cem volúpias
que para ti apenas
recitei
cresce depois de morto
ressuscita ao timbre
sorri para mim
cada vez que te ouço
não faço mais que lembrar
que não morri
que se meus olhos
são águas
e meus dedos
palavras
ao som tua voz
é porque sim
para que me lembre
que beijei
agarrei
fugi
e ainda me tens aqui
agarrada aos fiapos da tua voz
como quem se agarra a um filho
logo eu
que perdi minhas entranhas
nas mãos de um qualquer cirurgião
eu
agarro-me ao som da tua voz
que flutua
intensa
imensa
amante
para mim
assim te amo
e por ti me dispo
deixando que soltas as águas
me lembre de mim
ainda viva nos teus braços