Thursday, November 16, 2006

The Deliciousness of Blank Pages

lorretine´s lovely photo

The deliciousness of blank pages, waiting for any scribble and scrawl, born to absorb the ink, the words, the lines, the lives, the love of just writing, feeling the difference of each pen as it slipes slides glosses scratches drags across the page. are the words worthy of such paper, such pages, such golden edges, such luxe leather crackled and soft and padded and waiting and waiting.


Pentimento


this time no tears
no clinging
no grasping for one last look
word, embrace
your past recast in softer tones
sentimental pentimento
penetrating, permeating the now
faster than it can be painted

Sonhei Que Você Estava Aqui


Small city too small
Big city too big
Familiars too familiar
Strangers too strange
Far away too far
Nearby too near
You wished you were where
While I dreamed you were here?

Tic Toc


How luxurious to feel
There is time, enough time
So much time, plenty of time
Stretching ahead so far
There seems barely a narrowing
Let alone a vanishing point
For the two lines, lives
What is one week, two weeks
In a lifetime so fresh,
So full of days to come?
Each tick of the treacherous clock
Passing 3, passing 4, passing 5
Whispers nights are forever
But life is not.

Friday, November 03, 2006

"Longe do olhar dos outros..."

Special thanks to Primo Tacca Neto for the shimmering image
An interminable approach
Until finally parallel
Then moving
Unfathomably, inexplicably
Apart

Cruel trompe l’oeil
Where drifting away
Disguises itself so well
On the golden horizon
Any blue beyond view

Anil infusing each tone
In the barely veiled dance
Of a patient Salomé
Her words
Like diaphanous scarves
Wafting through your blue,
Her unyielding song
Caressing each longing
Sussurros, suspiros, saudades
Sussurros, suspiros, saudades
Sempre sussurrando
"Longe do olhar dos outros,
respiramos ao mesmo tempo-
como uma engrenagem única e bela
."


Our breath now hers
Her words now mine
An exquisite exchange
Of despair and desire

Voracidade saciada
O gosto das amoras amargam
Perco parte dos meus sonhos.