flowers growing in unusual places

It started with a grain first fed then contained Fear kept it lovingly in its domain I was always brave when the time came. Breathe in rip it out like a band aid Now I harbour winds that rage like hurricanes but hardly whisper outside the brain I used to be brave when the time … Continue reading flowers growing in unusual places

De Santos e Pastores

Foram anos de poemas declamados no colégio de freiras e de outros tantos a retalhar versos como se fossem só uma aglomeração de a-b-b-a e sinédoques - que identificamos com o mesmo entusiasmo de quem decora a lengalenga do teorema de Pitágoras. Até que um dia, depois todo este ruído, conheci o mestre Caeiro, e … Continue reading De Santos e Pastores

Sylvia’s tree

Only the branches seem to grow and multiply - like Sylvia's tree. I should not depend on the wind as guide - it changes all the time. But the speed with which I need to grow (do I?) may well be the death of me. Shallow roots grow faster but never hold.

Isidora & Prose

I am a painfully   s l o w    writer of prose and soaringwriterofverse. To my mind prose is convention & norm, poetry free form. In a poem, you can cut sentences in half wherever you wish and pile them up together in whatever              shape            you         want You could never have that with prose.

china

Corpo meu fará quadrado. Corpo meu duro que é Embora palavras não diga Palavras guarda. E responde.*Queria eu, esconder-me na montanha. Estudar a Via. Mas não aguento, o frio - nem suporto, a fome. in Poemas Anónimos - Turcos, Mongóis, Chineses e incertos, Assírio & Alvim