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


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
que subiu por mim acima como uma serpente quente
seguindo por minha boca abaixo
para se acabar num arrepio
latejando em mim


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
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
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
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
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
splurging in the pond

or maybe just a tall glass of
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

for I am gone
at your command


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
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
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
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

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


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
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
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
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


change your legs to mine
your arms to mine
I can drag you for awhile
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

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
can I?
can I?
... just one thing


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

I congratulate myself
for giving you
the peace
you stole from me
in the coward hole of the night
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
onto the sky
like the sun.
He said "jump, don't be afraid. I'll hold you."
She calculated the distance
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.


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
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


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.


10 years ago there was a difference of
30 years
more than a 100 years ago
there was a difference of 40
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
more than a 100 years ago
when it was more than impossible
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

incredibly hot
and much more than
a chance
of showers
I guarantee it was raining
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
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
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
da terra dos índios
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
capaz de me dar vida
a mim
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
acabar-me nos teus olhos
em mim

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

mas não

talvez da saudade
se engrandeça o amor