This new day

I pray "write",

tired as I am 

of new days.

Might be possible

to live unknowing, 

and forward.

This new day

I write "prophecy and description

will remain unfixed, with

no assigned qualities".

 sillage (lingers)

 

spillage (spills)

 

tillage (cultivates)

________________

amphora

(tall, too, a neck, contained)

between

anaphora

(repeated beginnings)

epistrophe

(and ends and ends and ends) 

___________________

tersa (late summer)

in midsummer

a person (one)

versa (turned)

_____________________

 

 

many years ago, I grew this

 

 

قطة a cat

 

 

 

remembering this desert cat

that 

in Al Ain

foraged dusk

for

sustenance

 

 

 

 

 

 

tied wood,

hung,

but nailed to

the mind -

a kind of

cruel

animation of

a god's death -

no less than 

Osiris

or 

Saturn's

children

grey monk's coat

patched (im)perfection

_______________

every morning water

myself

plants

lizard

understand the green feeding of hungry insects

________________

back to work 

feel more complete

meeting myself

in paper

paint

set lid of cool water

under the cosmos forest

for ryu

my little dragon

______________

above

a swift swallow

a swift swallowing flight

might also flee a kite

________________

Portuguese study 

cleansed me

of all

but English

I 

protesting

begin

building

back

all the bits and pieces

of every tongue

that

makes me

 

older

now

harmed and unharmed

as finite is

yet within

exist

eternities

that 

forgive

white jade

white jade

Years ago, a close friend visited a couple she had met through work. She managed a used bookshop, and they often came in to buy, browse, and chat about books. They were private people, spoke little about themselves, so she was surprised to receive an invitation to visit them at their home for lunch.  On a weekend afternoon a few weeks later,  took the bus from the city to their neighborhood. They lived in a nondescript condominium in a modest suburb of San Francisco. Greeting her warmly at the door, they asked that she remove her shoes, offering her a pair of house slippers. The small white foyer opened out into a large, vaulted, white room. Drawn white curtains covered a large window. White carpeting covered the floor. Two white leather sofas and three simple low tables floated in the center of the space. There were no visible lamps or bricolage, no plants, paintings, photographs, nothing colorful or alive. My friend then found herself involuntarily gasping. Against the longest wall in the room stood three very large lit display cabinets, made entirely of glass. These housed a remarkable collection of white jade. 

tenement shop in chinatown of the most respected jade dealer in California

 

pena (asa) - milvus milvus

how to be in a garden

 

every day 

step into them -

years 

and weather.

Learn pause.

Accept what you cause-

change

failure

more change.

Still.

Understand

your  plant influence

is limited

easily circumvented

by birds, insects, storms, seasons.

Everything green isn't about you.

Surrender to what delights.

Most growth

accepts death

and fallow.

Notice

how

shallow

shadows

extend

to summer's cosmos

nodding

to autumn

and ends.

 

presently

grey

becomes

blue

Noting

outer

changes

within.

 paywalls will destroy you

in the rain

ripened in the rain

the beach is empty

and at the center

of my thoughts

_________________

night heron

pond hem

_________________

spools of thread

grandfather in the family shop

mouth full of tacks

spitting profanity

and father having none of it

but the comaraderie

the blue bowling shirts

said M&S Upolstery

across the back

 

Seamstress

Ellen, order of the eastern star,

married to master mason Emile

 

(banned in January 1934)

freemasons

     

1 pé, terra  baixa manpo tie (10,000 passos conscientes)

 

2 affirmation

 

3 música

 

4 cozinha

 

5 silêncio

 

6 apparition

 

7 barrulho

 

8 ceilindo

 

9 não existe

 

 

 Chang Tsu does not tire though he walks a thousand miles

All differences have disappeared there. My will has no destination and I do not know where I come from or where I go; I do not know where it ends.

Let the mind arise, conceive a fellowship that requires neither membership nor kinship. (b-c han)

"Not all negativity is destructive. Not infrequently forms of negativity such as hestitation, pausing, boredom, waiting, or rage prove constructive though they're threatened with disappearance in the course of society's increasing positivization." Byoung-Chul Han

 

o  p  e  n  n  e  s  s 

doesn't need to be fixed

 

 

 so much removed

nothing excepted

from circular -

this mad dog biting its tail

I want it to

disappear

this privileged insanity

knowing full well

it never has

and it will not now

 notes on damp

Damped off

or penetrating

falling 

from failing or rising

seeping

creeping

from the mushroom mother

as

dampened enthusiasm for

more rain.

Reservoirs rise again.

Moistened skin

softens.

Damp distresses

are useful too

if you wish to eliminate something.

Seepage.

Wrinkles away.

Wet.

Yet

there are differences.

Mould

unlike dew

you view with distrust.

cloud grey and wet

allow habits to nest

give mind rest

to think

notas

boço

bolo

boca

 

clown

cake

mouth

________

holes

assessed

suggest

memory palaces 

as imperfect

matchless

ruins

we walk

past

remnants

all the time

________________

inscrutable haze

impermeable hills

accepting otherness 

_________________

pré-fascista

a european point of view

1754-63 the Seven Year's War

________________________

 

Bienale Pavilions of

Ireland

Portugal

stolen land, landed, landless

land mother, restoration, restitution

________________________

mottanai

______________________

pensar, sentir

ponte qual deste sal

passaro passado quintada cravel

siri-miri (euskuldora)

os pinheiros, os penheiros

sono (   ) pinheiros

o que sons?

O que palavras?

smentes, barcas, pedras

________________________

Que ponte de sal

passam os pássaros

a caminho da Quinta da Cravel!

Siri-miri (em euskuldora).

Está a chuviscar entre os  

os pinheiros, os pinheiros,

os pinheiros adormecidos.

Que sons?

Que palavras?

O que chega aqui,

trazido pelos pássaros

e a maré salgada

de longe, de muito longe

senão o mais simples, o mais vulgar
das coisas -

sementes, barcos, ossos e pedras.

____________________________

What a bridge of salt

the birds pass

on their way to Quinta da Cravel!

Siri-miri (in euskuldora).

It's drizzling among the  

the pine trees, the pine trees,

the sleeping pines.

What sounds?

What words?

What comes here,

brought by the birds

and the salty tide

from far, far away

but the simplest, most ordinary
things -

seeds, boats, bones and stones.

_____________________

a raposa disse
quando tiveres mais de sessenta anos pensa em mim
os meus doze anos passados entre as tuas peónias

the fox said

when you are over sixty think of me

my twelve years spent among your peonies.

______________________

 red kite

attacked in flight

_______________________

 

Irma Boom

Eleanor Pritchard

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Parallelia bistriaris - maple looper moth

 

ondas

the sanctity of privacy

takes precedent over

an endless stream of contingency 

an endless stream of contingency 

an endless stream of contingency 

an endless stream of contingency 

an endless stream of contingency 

an endless stream of contingency 

an endless stream of contingency 

an endless stream of contingency 

an endless stream of contingency 

an endless stream of contingency 

an endless stream of contingency 

an endless stream of contingency 

respect tokens of

 

 

            Keep your center empty and quiet

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 "Chinese art has a functional relationship with nature, not a mimetic one. It is not a question of depicting as realistically as possible but of operating exactly like nature. In nature, successive variations ...produce something...clearly without any kind of genius."

Byung-Chul Han

 

Plato's Ideas, twice removed imitations

Aristotle's Poetics, the mechanisms of hands and mind

Nature as asian abacus - round numerations

 

"Towards a voluntary emptying...

Conceive a fellowship that requires neither fellowship nor kinship"

"Capitalism does not love the empty or the quiet"

"Keep your center empty"

B-C Han

 

 

 

 

 

 

continue

creating

for audience

of one

or more

solitude

is discovery

more important

less said

 

uma traça, Coleophora badiipennella pale elm-case bearer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

37.011 BF497

Coleophora badiipennella

(Duponchel, [1843])

---

Wingspan 9-11 mm.

 

Locally distributed throughout much of Europe.

 

The adults fly in June and July and occasionally come to light.

The larva constructs a case from a fragment of a leaf of the foodplant, elm (Ulmus), after mining a narrow gallery.

It occurs around the edges of woodland and prefers saplings to mature trees.

 

new path past urban gardens 

scrap gates

pole beans 

things repurposed

old roses as walls

path through eucalyptus

empty fields

a rooster

dogs

stones with bricked-in windows -

convent or quinta

enclosure of native pines

nudging tobacco

still more beans

and

a

small orchard of peaches

 

 

riachos

riachos

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

streams

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

more atmospheric rivers

 eu descobri estou a falar sem verbos

ele diu eu falar bem mas uso uns adjetivos incorretamente
ele disse que eu  falo bem mas uso alguns adjetivos incorretamente
Espero aprender a conjugar os verbos
ela usou muitos verbos e conjugou-os

Muitas vezes penso tangencialmente quando falo e complico demasiado as coisas

Byoung-chul Han, o filósofo, disse: "Aprende a ser um idiota”

 I found out I'm talking without verbs

he said i speak well but i use some adjectives incorrectly
he said I speak well but I use some adjectives incorrectly
I hope to learn how to conjugate verbs
she used a lot of verbs and conjugated them

I often think tangentially when I speak and overcomplicate things

Byoung-chul Han, the philosopher, said: "Learn to be an idiot".

None of us are ourselves

We are ourselves

mulheres a fazer o que lhes apetecer

women doing as they please (whatever they feel like)

 

 

  

from Karun Thakar’s extraordinary collection of textiles and objects.

勿体無い

 

Mottainai 

 

(もったいない)

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

https://www.eleanorpritchard.com/journal/2023/7/28/a-question-of-mottainai

 

this is

 

 

this is

 

ikigai

生きがい

a reason to live -
kuntsugi 

金繕い

(my) precious scars
wabi sabi

侘び寂び

recall pleasure in the impermanence of things
mono no aware

物の哀れ

(reminding me I) resonate with pathos 

kaizen

改善  (かいぜん)

(while) continuously improving
kokoro

心  (こころ)

my heart, and the mind contained within it
ganbaru

頑張る (がんばる)

(I remain) standing firm, doing my best
kizuna 

絆  (きずな)

to strengthen trust and mutual support  (among those animated and inanimate)

shouganai 

しょうがないalways mindful of what is uncontrollable 

 

 

dias 

de poeira

de pó 

noites

de estrelas

de estrelas cadentes 

two languages

three

we learn ten

then

when the sun sets

a final forgetfulness

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

cut and corn worms

a cabbage moth

lymantria dispar

noctua pronuba

under earth

into water

flushed, 

failing to fly-

even these

mourned for

 

Apenas, ainda

Um interior que não pode ser contido, uma expansão interior
Estou a expandir-me impulsivamente

Estou a empurrar

Estou a puxar

Não sou uma força original ou primário, mas certamente complementar.

 

 

___________________________________________________________

 

Can we be transformed at all stages of life?

 

I donate my body to the air, to rocks, birds, and trees.

I donate my eyes to the rain,

My ears to the clouds.

I want to hear the cries of dry hands, paws, hooves,

Find stone clouds I can push against and break into storms.

 

Dedicate yourself to these reparations in thought and deed.

Reseed and water this tender wounded place we call earth. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Discourse on dreams by a celestial bear.

 a book, a book

we sold the books to leave.

we grieved.

more books, more books

we sold those books for a home,

retreated to rooms leaf-lined,

an evergreen existence,

we thought.

death arrived,

proved our dreams deciduous.

I gave our books to libraries then,

when I knew to pursue

a more navigable life, 

but far away.

Now

I ask more books to stay, to share my solitude. 

I watch

a dawn downpour

spill into

trailing echevaria

already soaked in 

peacock calls.

Below me grey walls

where someone unshutters

a single window.

Within it, dark,

nearly invisible,

the stark image

of a single arm

rising and falling

rythymically

as it pushes past a shadow curtain.

There is attached to this arm

a stare I feel but I cannot see.

It unnerves me.

 

thoughts about, quotes from reading caste

Caste - Isabel Wilkerson

"None of us are ourselves."

"Strange things pop up at us when we are liberated from our delusions" ... 122

"But he discovered he was a captive of his own conditioning, which he called a certain madness." 122

the mudsill

The morning will soon 

escape cool for dry.

I watch the sky for swift, swallow, kite.

West,

the sea

opens,

an azure glare.

I stare south into a wood, 

past fields

easing green.

Need days 

for  

playing minuets,

writing letters,

and laughter.

 

Saint's night bright without barking

 none of us are ourselves

Steep places, these,

edged into 

sea scarps,

rock rouged, rough.

Pastured to the

the brink

of what

we think 

is known.

 

This is insularity

aging seen as stone - 

legacies  of

hand, foot, pressed against,

placed loose

against the precipice.

Here the whole world (stars, water, air,
And field, and forest, as they were
Reflected in a single mind)
Like cast off clothes was left behind
In ashes, yet with hopes that she,
Re-born from holy poverty,
In lenten lands, hereafter may
Resume them on her Easter Day.

- C.S. Lewis, epitaph for Joy Davidman

six a.m. -

a fluttering

muttering

round of

sound

 

Lomba 

is a road hump

or was,

once.

In a dream,

I spy

a sleeping policeman.

Both

cop and mound

as sounds,

to my sleeping mind,

seem somehow salted,

tidal,

and fishy.

 

thoughts

days of it

then

rains

again

____________ 

what is just

must concern you

_______________

Pergunta-me.

Como é que os dias o cativam, o abraçam, o inspiram?

Por vezes, diante de mim, vejo apenas uma procissão pouco clara de intenções.

 

Ask me.

How do the days captivate you, embrace you, inspire you?

Sometimes, in front of me, I see only an unclear procession of intentions.
 

_________________

Enjoo de movimento. Envelhecimento.

(Motion sickness. Aging.)

__________________

corrosive vocabulary

___________________

pattern recognition in 

or

more an absence of

____________________

 acho 

este tanto mais

é demasiado

estou a procurar de  ma 間

em todos os sítios errados

_______________________

 I think

this much more

is too much

i'm looking for ma 間

in all the wrong places

 

 O maio castanho e ventoso torna o ano cheio e belo.

 

 

Foot swollen, I concentrate

on walking

the few steps between bath and bed.

Wobbly.

Tonight I'm hobbled,

need sleep,

its freedom from pain.

Fighting my body

to clearly think

is an exceptional

antithesis for me.

Before I drop off,

I remember Socrates pacing and 

Pessoa's last days.

 

Who really knew you two, I wonder.

 

Do we know Socrates

after reading Aristophanes, Xenophon, Plato?

What if Xanthippe could speak?

 

I know we show ourselves

prismatically,

yet so many secrets remain.

 

When I contemplate Pessoa's Sephardic snobbery,

when again in English he places poems underfoot

 

Je n’nai jamais demande à le vie que de m’effleure
sans que je la sente passer 

 

I think - But you didn't touch it, and you nearly missed us entirely 

 

In the final moments before consciousness

slips away

I say aloud

remember

that your 

latitude and longitude

is a mystery too

a beatitude

not a misfortune

here

halfway across the world

 

 

 

 

 

I never asked life to touch me
without feeling it go by

 I will attempt to rise at six

when this

building sleeps

keeps 

silent

Chinese art has a functional relationship with nature, not a mimetic one. 

It is not a question of depicting nature as realistically as possible, but of 

operating exactly like nature. In nature, successive variations(may) produce 

something without any kind of genius.

Han Byong-Chul

Are you dreaming of love on the Mapo Bridge?

Underneath you stood among cardboard homes

shoes at the door

or 

 

Walking the Sumida river

you spy

white cat bones falling

like petals, like moths,

like an image from old kimono cloth 

 

consider also

 

Near Superior

grave mounds

roil toward shore

as more

edge rivers, enter lakes,

become epics

written in earth, 

underwater

 

I suggest

ten thousand steps 

in any direction 

will reward you 

 

 

gull

Gull killed by chickens, near the Univ. of Porto Arch. School, 2024

walking on water

 

William Wordsworth's skate

 

 '1830 Dorothy writes of Wordsworth at nearly 60 as 

"still the crack skater on Rydal lake and as to climbing of mountains 

the hardiest and the youngest are yet hardly a match for him”.'

 

https://blogs.ucl.ac.uk/researchers-in-museums/tag/thylacine/

wind (swept)

wind

(swept)

 

Watching from here, on the roof,

weather,

that is,  a sea of weather,

I feel adrift, far from shore.

Here in the sky

only love and suffering seem real.

 

Within me lie

bird-like breastbone, a skull -

my two masted yawl.

I'm steadied, well-hulled, hopeful.

 

Such storms!

The wind can howl,  

the weather worsen,

but

I know

it will take more than this,

it will take more than this.

 

 

 Cancer boats

float under bridges

to far off mountains -

Teyatʰa: oṃ bekʰandze bekʰandze maha bekʰandze radza samudgate soha. 

You were

a clear glass of water.

Now,

I remember your reflection,

a single drop

of sweetness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tibet

Painted thangka with Bhaishajyaguru, c. between 1201 and 1400

The practice of Medicine Buddha (Sangye Menla in Tibetan: སངས་རྒྱས་སྨན་བླ།, Wylie: sangs rgyas sman bla, THL: sang-gyé men-la) is not only a very powerful method for healing and increasing healing powers both for oneself and others, but also for overcoming the inner sickness of attachment, hatred, and ignorance, thus to meditate on the Medicine Buddha can help decrease physical and mental illness and suffering.^{[citation needed]}

The Medicine Buddha mantra is held to be extremely powerful for healing of physical illnesses and purification of negative karma. In Tibetan, Mahābhaiṣajya is changed to maha bekʰandze radza (མ་ཧཱ་བྷཻ་ཥ་ཛྱེ་རཱ་ཛ་) in the mantra, while 'rāja' (radza) means "king" in Sanskrit. In modern Tibetan language, 'ṣa' (ཥ) is pronounced as 'kʰa' (ཁ), and 'ja' in Sanskrit, as in the cases of 'jye' & 'jya', is historically written with the Tibetan script 'dza' (ཛ). Along with other pronunciation changes, the short mantra is recited as:^[19][20]

ཏདྱ་ཐཱ། ཨོཾ་བྷཻ་ཥ་ཛྱེ་བྷཻ་ཥ་ཛྱེ་མ་ཧཱ་བྷཻ་ཥ་ཛྱེ་རཱ་ཛ་ས་མུདྒ་ཏེ་སྭཱ་ཧཱ།

(Romanization) Teyatʰa: oṃ bekʰandze bekʰandze maha bekʰandze radza samudgate soha.

One form of practice based on the Medicine Buddha is done when one is stricken by disease. The patient is to recite the long Medicine Buddha mantra 108 times over a glass of water. The water is now believed to be blessed by the power of the mantra and the blessing of the Medicine Buddha himself, and the patient is to drink the water. This practice is then repeated each day until the illness is cured.^{[citation needed]}

to disappear

here

not possible

noise surround

prevents

silence

and silence

is what I wish for

more than anything

bridging 

broken wire

bracing

for

more

as

metal ends

tanto tantamount to

sui generis

ore

ora

pro nobis

these 

these 

that

are lost to us.

uma camada de sons

da baía da vida

as atmosferas fracas

que estão a fluir para sudeste

um fluxo sem um nome

através os margems de verde

o que tornam-se campos da areia

um glaciar derrete (imparável)

sudoeste, uma maré salgada

sob as ondas, um nação

acima, um céu, uma cratera azul

 

 

Isto meu mapa do mundo 

os raízes, sangue, e ar

começa ao amanhecer e nunca termina

---------------------------------------------

A layer of sounds

from the bay of life

fragile atmospheres

that are flowing southeast

a stream without a name

through banks of green

which become fields of sand

a glacier melts (unstoppable)

southwest, a salt tide

under the waves, a nation 

above, a sky, blue crater 

this is my map of the world

of roots, blood, air

that begins at dawn and never ends

____________________________________

beyond the dented sky

into the stars

____________________________________

 Red Admiral

 

Silver Y Autographa gamma (Linnaeus, 1758)

 

 

content

content

happy

hapless

the path to ______?

You walk it in silence.

Keep the way to yourself.

Where others are,

what they are doing

isn't

any of your concern, is it?

 

Keep walking.

 

Bend. Focus.

Bend again.

 

Keep walking.

 

Later, 

arriving 

don't mention it.

Speak instead

about

the sun

or the color of the sea

em os outros línguas,

a alguns estranghos e aos seus amigos

 

 

 

the habit of writing

becomes being

becomes seeing

one word

never alone

a stone among stones -

earth

History

isn't

living less in 

the khipu and codices

or attempts to

when men again

bring light

to bright paper 

we make shadows

Nothing?

 

Everything.

 

 http://oralhistory.columbia.edu/blog-posts/Talking%20Knots:%20Decolonizing%20Oral%20History%20through%20Alternative%20Methods%20of%20Memory%20Transmission

 É uma poeira também poesia?

 

all day spent in soil and words

modal hours

minus schrift

steadied drift 

 

mid-sea

me

 

alone

Perhaps I will disappear.

I am already being erased from other places I've lived.

I look out my window,

high above streets, at the sea.

I imagine myself

a drop of salty water

and smile.

magoar pessoas machudam os outros

hurt people hurt others

ikigai

wabi-sabi

mottainai  (nanbu sakiori)

G  A  M  A  N

mono no aware

______________________

Usasama Myoo

Become Humble

Organize your shoes

improve posture

itadakimasu

warué tada taruwo shiru

okage sama de 

sleep, wake early

 

 

we wear our narratives

like cloaks of invisibility

stories

that contain

and protect us

protect our fragility

make us impenetrable

 Chinese art has a functional relationship with nature, not a mimetic one. 

It is not a question of depicting nature as realistically as possible but of 

operating exactly like nature. In nature, successive variations also produce

something very clearly without any kind of genius.

- Byoung-Chul Han

o sobreiro

o sobreiro diz
neste monte eu caio
sem ninguém lá
uma árvore numa floresta envelhecida
enquanto o mundo aquece
e os meus filhos
mais uma vez 

migram para o norte

the cork tree says
on this mount I fall
with no one there at all
a tree in an aging forest
while the world warms
and my children
once again 

migrate north

 

 

 

 The coordination of gazing, glancing, moving over a period of time engages me completely.

- John Virtue

a boat of teeth

lies at the bottom of

a cold lake

clearly there 

settled into the sand

listing

listening

no lament

went down

slowly on a still day

 

the burning

all my journals from 17 to 64

most sketchbooks

gone

the ashes in the old garden with yours

with our two cats

and countless birds

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

tenho uma pergunta

sabes o que é isto?
esta água mais azul que os olhos do amor

Pergunto a um pássaro
porque os pássaros sabem muitas coisas
mas o pássaro não responde

O pássaro nunca responderá
Está a fechar seus olhos
está sempre a ouvir
ao sol
a lua
a árvore onde pousa
o ar em que voa
mas o pássaro prefere
se puder
não me ouvir-me

____________________

 

I have a question

do you know what this is?
this water bluer than the eyes of love

I ask a bird
because birds know many things
but the bird won't answer

The bird will never answer
it's closing its eyes
is always listening
to the sun
the moon
the tree where it lands
the air in which it flies
but the bird prefers
if it can
not to listen to me

 

thoughts walking

perovskia 

ou

salvia 

yangii

 

polar mas a sul
lunar mas a oeste
onde há água
e sal
saltar, saltar, saltar
como um peixe
como uma mosca apanhada pelo vento

 

um azul viral 

uma expansão em espiral

 

_______________________________________

polar but south
lunar but to the west
where there is water
and salt
skip, leap, jump
like a fish
like a fly caught in the wind

a viral blue
a spiraling expansion

_________________________________________

sacas de

calçadas

branco

preto

__________

 paisajem 

 

haze hills inscrutable

discovery of impermeable

 

______________________

language is not a competition
the landscape of the foreigner
is one alone
in light, sun, in darkness, night

a língua não é concurso
a paiseje da estrangeira
é uma sozinha
em luz, sol, em escuriso, noite

 

_________________________

 

 

 walking to

shake off

winter dampness

a slow mind

a kind of stupor

I rise from

walking to

leave the constant

noise 

the fugues I play

to drown it out

 

walking towards something

that I reject

and so walk somewhere else

 

walking

to remember walking

city roaming

without aim

you were there 

in another room

always

in another room

the pain

until

I woke

realised 

you dead

these 

ten years 

_______________

estava lá
noutra sala
sempre
noutra sala
a dor
até
acordei
percebi
tu morto
estes
dez anos

___

 

num sonho
uma voz falava
suave

invisível
constrói uma nova vida
dizia

 

água no chão
a chuva
a chuva
como mil
votos de felicidade

________________

in a dream
a voice spoke
soft
invisible
build a new life
it said

water on the ground
the rain
the rain
like a thousand
good wishes

songbirds attack

a hungry hawk

doves awake know

the smell of cat

 

I watch the young gulls grow

 

pushing up 

cupped-leaved nasturtium

soil-speckled lobelia

cosmos rising 

a slender net of sway

 

stay a little longer, jasmine

 

 

 

I cannot bear the constant talking

but I do

I find the quiet inside, again and again

I miss the still trains of Tokyo, Osaka

eating alone out, in silence

walking, greeting neighbors in few words, politely

 

o riudo não é mais,  mas para mim é menos

menos mundano, menos cheio 

do que o canto de um pássaro, o miado de um gato

save the nest

scuttle the fish

prune it

kick it

can it

cant it

 Em abril águas mil

 

Tree slippages -

pin oak    shadow   dry field weedy   duff   loess 

___________

Alliances of
Disputes about
The route of the dissenter
The limits of language
Aren’t the limits of love

_____________
 

Garbage and Golgotha
Did the apostles recycle,

pick up trash

______________

The end times align with the beginning

I for one 

cannot tear them into separate messages

______________

 
Oh, and what about the loss of birds 

the urgency of the fishes?

Quake signs.
Animal residual resistance
Senescence is coming.

 
Nothing was ever without consequences

but led ourselves into thinking so.

What is more interesting than optimism, more prescient than fatalism?
We fogo on.
(Even if it’s only and always indecisive)

 
No figs on the trees but under the duff mushrooms.
No birds in the sky but under the straw thawing ice.
An emmigration of environmental protections.
 

Assonance of Ashoka's Dama
Manga comprida.
Dama Buddha’s longo

Aspects of interstellar intelligence have reached us.
Intimations of mortality, immortal beloved, is life itself,

interstellar and grateful.

 
The brambles - consciousness.

Cinzento vente
Oh e
Deixei e
Tondo
Rondo
Bell
Knell



Mama hen and black white chicks hiding in bramble's consciousness.

Beyond the pink apartments

old men and young men without sandwiches or dogs

have great faith, great doubts.

Approach them.

An angel lives on my roof.

 

apelido é já
Por aqui sei agora. ou vou
Te espírito e em da casa ele estava
A sonho ou sombras ou ambos

Can I find order in my house? 

Do I need to go back 

to that place in my mind where I am mourning?

The small thing is, even though it doesn’t make sense.

You are not a child.

The burned books
Returned to the fish.
Green as earth or water (copper) and for air in holes
Those lost pieces of books are
playing with plastic, glass on the beach.


Almost hypericum nearly nepenthe.

There are many moments over many years that have become a long moment of feeling the world, like an hour during a child's summer day.

joaninha

joaninha, joaninha

sem a cauda

ainda um dragão

com asas de fogo

uma corpa cor de sangue 

salpicado de cinzas

joaninha joaninha
uma caçadora
uma vingadora
ver vermelho
vejo vermelho
quando te vejo

________

ladybird, ladybird
without a tail
still a dragon
with wings of fire
and blood-coloured body
sprinkled with ashes

ladybird ladybird
a huntress
an avenger
see red
I see red
when I see you

a high shuttered window

has a twin window

glass patched with tape

lets in light

as rain

feeds the roof

rampant with fern and polypody

-----------

Stone bones

grand abandoned homes

The rich have disappeared,

as will the cardboard walls

holding blanketed bodies.

It's in the dog's eyes,

all of it -

such loneliness

------------

 

 

 

 Andrea Maria from Clavicórdio

"I like to think that my hatred is a kind of mysticism.
It's not a totalitarian hatred, spread without care 

or devotion, but a humble, somewhat hypocritical, 

contemplative hatred, filled to the nostrils, like a saint, 

with a faint rotten aroma and dried blood.
I know that to hate is to still be in relationship. Refusal 

is still a relationship, like the father who abandons his 

son to save us. And I believe wholeheartedly in the son

 mixed with the cross."

 

Ka: Dar Oakley in the Ruin of Ymr  john crowley 

 

I had lost my faith, as the church would say it, though I think the reverse is just as true. In fact I’m not sure that faith was ever what I had. I think I was not capax Dei, in Augustine’s phrase: I had, and have, no capacity for God. Living in the sacred time you didn’t really need it; you didn’t even need belief. All you needed were five senses, a sacerdotal language, and the solemnities of repetition. - John Crowley

w a t e r w o r d s

 Several words for bodies of water changed meanings between the old country and the new. 

In England a pond is artificial, but in America it is natural. Creek in British English refers to an inlet from the sea, while in American English it describes a tributary of a river. An English watershed is a line or ridge separating the waters that flow into different drainage areas, but in America it’s a slope down which the water flows, or the catchment area of a river. Americans added the meaning of a small stream or brook to branch and said fork to refer to one arm of a river as well as a fork in the road. 

 

- Rosemary Ostler 2023 from The United States of English-The American Language from Colonial Times to the Twenty-First Century

a poem, repeated

 To whom it may concern, Mr. Kirala's intention is to accelerate the process of making a beautiful tiger, and he is good at it.

各位キララ氏虎美措置加速意図はに得意ひいすんしチンからもちのいい国とは近くイス口せせん

unconformity, a line  that separated time 

radically different rock formations, 

layers of finite

gaps
absences
Siccar Point
three men and no end
cement works at Dunbar
and the Muirs away
driftless
and sere
concrete weirs
here and there
where no fish stay
no children among the grasses
deep time passes
seas
leaves and island for a lake
so deep it’s first in freshwater size
and rarely frozen
surprisingly clear down 8 meters
and found there thomsonite
east
of lonely
Morton Outcrops

a caminhada

a caminhada (the walk)

steps are lines of sight
one foot down two feet forward
stop
or pause
to see
to remember
memorize
and then continue

_________________________________

os passos são linhas de visão
um pé para baixo dois pés para a frente
parar
ou fazer uma pausa
para ver
para recordar
memorizar
e depois continuar

Eu nunca estou sozinho
Estou sempre sozinho

P R O J E C T S

 1

a r t e

Cá estou eu (h e r e  am I, here I am)  

 

projeto um  -  uma visão da vida

 

uma folha de ouro

um velho cão dourado

gengibre

som

o mar Báltico

sicómoro empedrado

uma enfermeira a fumar

_____________________

a vision of  life

one golden leaf 

an old gold dog 

ginger 

sound 

the Baltic sea

cobbled sycamore 

a nurse smoking

_________________

projeto dois - folhas e tableau 

Thimble-sized gold book of margaritas or margaridas 

ou Margaret’s goddess of bloom without pluck, 

fucked by another religion and beheaded

Ana Ann Anne - barrens (barren women) and after 

or 

why you are more than blood or bloodline

Natural histories -

I prefer Juana Alipay’s de Machado Worthington 

to  what?
A pill in a bottle
 

A pleasant legend as many like Grimm are neither natural nor history

Lucretius  Pliny

projeto três -filmes

What’s the skinny?Assets bought and sold
Most unassuming ant richer than that

Boats barquinho the river inland
Susana Monsó philosopher on grief

Directed to see
A house centipede  
Over stained glass
 

Light on sand
In shadow
In hear

Sixteen absences
The heartrecedes
Terminar
Desligaram
An afterword

projeto quatro - coisas

An exhibition of flag poems each inspired by a word an artist in the exhibit provides

 

 

t h o u g h t s

 1

A kiss

that wishes to be 

an expression of freedom,

away from the safety of partnership

 

2

 

I go into old age 

alone

an Alcott Jo that
chose her own ending

 

3

 

Start to or first recognize
your shadows, you said

 

4

What makes me see

 

5

The difficulty of long sickness

the heart in disrepair,

weary of nothing but exhaustion itself

6

To be, truly,

and as a solitary

is the joy.

 

7
Deserved access to your mind’s eye
Interesting interruptions

8

Wind is accessible 

light at the end

light

as it ends

slips under

as it ends 

into such disarray 

that its ellipsis is 

a sloppy summary of day.

Still, it stores unseen greens

to come, or come again.

_________________________

night wind broke the marble

but not the bat, lonely, lost,

lodged under the rolling 

shuttered door

hanging nearby

more refugees, dark shapes.

Midnight brings a bird to the window

and an animal creeping along the sill.

s t o r m

a gull falls from

salt-altered air

as warnings shift

yellow to orange,

becomes part of

coastal foment

foretold.

 

time stutters, small wet bursts of minutes

 

that have been pushed, crest.

 

shore-bound

surfaces

tousled

 

have lost the locus of time

 

air underwater 

as the gull,

tumbling,

disappears into

fuming spray, 

wings bent, 

and mewling.