Thursday, May 19, 2011

.

Trains and boats and...

swell like an ocean, we are an unending stream running
from the beginning of history, kindness and light as
beacons along the way

blood runs inside us, like time runs
the universe, water all, we are all water and life too
is water, shape-less, i-mutable, simple

wheels within wheels, desire
travels long distances, silence rules but
a cry is never lost, a gesture always appraised

there’s no end, no end, no solution

jacarandás em flor, festa em Lisboa

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Bows

This Life

This Life

My friend tells me
a man in my house jumped off the roof
the roof is the eighth floor of this building
the roof door was locked how did he manage?
his girlfriend had said goodbye I'm leaving
he was 22
his mother and father were hurrying
at that very moment
from upstate to help him move out of Brooklyn
they had heard about the girl

the people who usually look up
and call jump jump did not see him
the life savers who creep around the back staircases
and reach the roof's edge just in time
never got their chance he meant it he wanted
only one person to know

did he imagine that she would grieve
all her young life away tell everyone
this boy I kind of lived with last year
he died on account of me

my friend was not interested he said you're always
inventing stuff what I want to know how could he throw
his life away how do these guys do it
just like that and here I am fighting this
ferocious insane vindictive virus day and
night day and night and for what? for only
one thing this life this life

Grace Paley

Monday, May 16, 2011

Naquele tempo

Naquele tempo falavas muito de perfeição,
da prosa dos versos irregulares
onde cantam os sentimentos irregulares.
Envelhecemos todos, tu, eu e a discussão,

agora lês saramagos & coisas assim
e eu já não fico a ouvir-te como antigamente
olhando as tuas pernas que subiam lentamente
até um sítio escuro dentro de mim.

O café agora é um banco, tu professora de liceu;
Bob Dylan encheu-se de dinheiro, o Che morreu.
Agora as tuas pernas são coisas úteis, andantes,
e não caminhos por andar como dantes.

Manuel António Pina

jeune


Rudolf Lehnert, La jeune Bédouine , 1914 (ou Fathma, de la tribu des Oued Nail, Tunis - ed. 1999)