About Poetry

About Poetry

(Irreversibly described)

                     However,

before me, a

girl

walks, walking a dog;

park bench.

I sit listening to:

geezers in their hives

of cards and shirtsleeves

pulling scythes and beers

loosing sight of sun

and shadows;

                   the girl and the dog's

shadows;

didn't want to talk of one

or the other, but

the truth is that

I find myself thinking

about the effect

of one on the other

yes, putting on my glasses, the girl is

appealing and smooth, almost

I would say serenely physical of full

and crescent moons

and a tangerine's tone

when bitten, acidic

gum floods

but the question is,

                     the dog's contribution

haughty, upraised tail, slightly

wavy

frizzed long

hair

savoring the park's breeze

the odor of the grass

penetrating

the most beastly senses

and my perception of this poetic

composition

still to be done;

… and how graceful they move on!

One's beauty entices the other's

and I can't decide if and which

I shall eliminate.

The sun is high, outshines me!

                                          in tear

I certainly foresee a house, now

of fans

touch screens in freshened patios

exotic plants restless growing

around the torrid news of another drippy

summer

I take down my tent and get my self all

indoors-like,

synthetic, analyst

keyboard darning, fingers rumbling

in a useless attempt

of blowing

at the febrile desk of my

thoughts

that morning from Tagus-nymphs

                                                   exited.

On this old 5th floor

where I live

together with cockroaches, the odd mouse

and fabulous views to the south

I finally get out of focus in your eternal waters

and write.

© 2014, JC

Sobre Poesia

Sobre Poesia

(Irreversivelmente descrito)

                              Porém,

à minha frente, uma

rapariga

passa, passeando um cão;
banco de jardim.

Eu estou sentado a ouvir;

os velhotes nas suas colmeias

de cartas e mangas de camisa

puxam biscas e manilhas

a perderem-se de sol

e sombras;

as sombras,

da rapariga e do cão;

não queria falar delas,

nem deles, mas

a verdade é que

dou por mim a pensar

no efeito

de um no outro

sim, pondo os óculos, a rapariga é

bela e suave, quase,

diria serenamente física de luas

cheias e novas e um tom

de tangerinas

quando se trincam, ácidas,

enchentes de goma

mas a questão é,

                        o contributo do cão

altivo, cauda em riste, ligeiramente

ondulada,

frisados os pelos,

compridos,

saboreando a brisa do parque,

o cheiro da relva

penetrando

os sentidos mais animalescos

e a minha percepção desta composição

poética

por realizar;

...e a graça com que avançam!

A beleza de um, atrai a do outro

e não consigo decidir qual e se

hei de eliminar.

O sol vai alto, ofusca-me!

                                   em lágrima

Certamente antevejo já uma casa

de ventoinhas

ecráns tácteis em pátios refrescados

plantas exóticas crescendo descontentes

ao redor das noticias quentes de mais um verão

pingado

Eu desmonto a minha tenda e ponho-me todo

de interiores,

sintético, analista

teclado cerzindo, dedos troando

numa tentativa inútil

de soprar

à secretária febril dos meus

pensamentos

aquela manhã, de tágides

saída.

Deste velho 5 andar

onde convivo com baratas,

um ou outro rato e fabulosas vistas para o

Sul

desconcentro-me finalmente nas tuas águas eternas

e escrevo.

© 2014, JC

Like the Scars of Abraham

Like the Scars of Abraham

(or a response in real time)

Trying a response in

real time:

The way I see it

(Abraham and God)

it hasn't been transitively spoken yet

(God and the scars)

She explains to me then

passing his bear hands all over

my naked skin;

he's blinded. I'm laying

smelling the face of

ground

She only guides them, conveying

in me

like the scars of Abraham,

revisited,

a thousand of years of God like

heritage

condensed in thumbnails

I can feel the weight and the rubbing

of all his herd walking

the path of the

covenant

                        the backbone

a thin mischievous line

enduring the bites of discontentment

Turn around,

she invites me;

Not wanting to go any further,

I reply;

but she insists on

offering guidance;

so I accept,

as she sews me to earth

with honey forged silk

before proceeding with his

promised land

Search,

there between

end, begin, begins

the writing of the three major

rivers of mankind

stained with the scars of

Abraham

or

I try to escape

putting all my effort into

stop thinking

                 whose scars are these?

                 Abraham's, God's?

which I succeed by moving

collarbones, pelvis into one direction

nor south, neither west

but east, where the plain cities

fornicate human kind,

rendering his plea

at this point

all I desire is that this

a dream is

© 2014, JC

We mean each other

There is only silence.
We sit inside, gravitating
in-between units of time
falling

We mean each other
so substantially,
we don't even notice
there is unity
in singular
too

There is a window shield
jazzing, while
achromatic rain drop shadows
slide down in steady
pace
apparently
not letting go

I open the door.
We must crawl out of this
temporary indefiniteness;
we must
come home!

The shiver of Capricorn

The shiver of Capricorn

As the music I am listening

to, remains in me for as long

as I wish and

remember

to wish

Indolent the sun has broken through

today, one of the last days

shivering, nature's passage to

next temper

From the top of this hill

I can hear only

water fulfilling it's

physical urge to

return to

level

Almost idyllic

this thought of mine

as I lay against the glass

of the door looking into

the soaked garden

outside the rain

let not go of

my winter

sadness

My adobe

body

resembled a swollen bag

yesterday;

then during the night

while I became the place

where I used to stare

at stars,

there was a shooting

experiment, in my mind

and luckily

orifices opened all over my

skin

while I trembled for

seconds

that seemed hours

expunging all the water

absorbed

so far in time

that I could not remember

since when

this liquid

contamination was

going

on.

Today

drained, I enter

Aquarius.

© 2014, JC

Arpis

Arpis

what a place to be!

I was here before,

I remember the smell

as I take one of the big escalators

that lead us into the tubular structure;

the scent emanating from under, never knew what it was

fascinating though, like the people

all sort of delicatessen type

serious, du monde

fragile lucifers always on the verge of

kindling

one's heart

it was my destiny to return!

a few dingus remain accurate from those times,

one is smell, the other sound of train stations and even

metro engines in constant gear optimization

so meticulously harmonious in Helsinki

so dreadful in London

to this puzzle of history

at night, the cutting hiss of our speed up dreams

would push us one into

another

in concupiscent breaths

Olimpo calling!

this being the proof

that a city doesn't stand on it's own

it is lifted in poetry or engineering or war or wisdom

by the wishful thoughts of millions

each individual, a small cell accounting

for the grandiosity

spread through the borders of this

world

intermittently...

mundane contrasts

engaged in nausea

slept on trains, like everybody

else there was no room left;

standing

after decades of aging

I don't know what I will be looking for

maybe the blue greyish color of her eyes

the fragrance of subducted stairways rolling

endlessly

the pan-erotic measure of a collective

way of being

blended with skylines

and romantic legs

trapping

love

at each

approaching finger of

sweetness

maybe we'll a-muse each other to the door way...

maybe...

but, let's just call it

Paris!

© 2014, JC

Metamorphosis

Bloody metamorphosis
My blind heart thinks he can fly
Shall I jump or die?

Take me to the pier.

Take me to the pier

dear!

let's engage in a long awakening

and merge with earth's

warmest velvet

enclosing;

indifferent to stars rotation

we'll melt until the rising sun

unveils it's golden rays

sheepishly

Be it from east

or west

let's invite ocean & welkin;

I want my Gods close by me

at this dazzling moment

of desired profanity!

Tipsy by the engulfing

water bathing moon and me

I just forget what it means to

share between kisses

the precious flavor

of goodbyes

waving in the line

of horizon

far, faraway

by the west

sinking

Oh! You're gone

in my

dream!

© 2014, JC

Blocks

Wise are the bedrocks

supporting walls and ceiling;

repetition blocks!

Sushi

Sushi sticks tasting
The flavor of your inner
Skin's cartography

Time's Cocoon

Nights fake time's cocoon
Silkworms fine driven instinct
Spun so fleetingly

Frozen

Frozen

Injecting emotions

trying an escape

my mind got memory molded

inside yours'

shivering reflection

above the white

glacial soil

in one sheer direction

as out there cast

even posts

forget why

they

got frozen

too

only the wind

undulating with flocks

arouses in us

the whispers of

gentle

ocean blues

© 2014, JC

Love Lashes

Love Lashes

Intrigued by holistic solutions

they would spend hours

revolving brain mechanisms,

gazing at each others' breast

following their narcotic's

blazed rhythm

Cunning slash lingual,

properties that connect when

you're not dyslexic

Up side down

she would stay there, legs bent over

her head

for what seemed

moments of eternity

in agnostic, mysterious

concentration

I watched alone,

couldn't be neither one or other;

options so tricky

My frame, a private God

(isn't that always the case?)

not high above in the sky

but in the realm of nature,

of all mineral stuff that

transcends our creations

and with whom I,

commune

Spirituality:

endowment given to you

genetically?

so I stayed and smiled

dispersing love lashes

in tender melted

sighs.

© 2014, JC

Obsession

Obsession planes high
Even when you don't see it
You know it's up there

lipspil

lips were made to kiss

objects, trees, images, of desire..

people

also people with lips

kisses were thought to

open skies, rivers and seas

blend the green of grass

with the yellow of

marigolds

across valleys of bees

thoughts

so precious and powerful

they are the true kiss

they are the true lips

© 2014, JC

Anticyclonic

Lips sealed, unborn words
Poetic hearts screaming though
Anticyclonic

Empress

I declare the night
Empress of my fantasies
Of light we shall dream

Harsh truth

Devoted to truth
Alone he went up his path
His lightness too harsh

LIP, Landscapes Imagined Privately

LIP, Landscapes Imagined Privately

imagine vectorial definitions raised from hands yanked along malnourished valleys. mud! systematic gear inverted on top of Azorean women, crying the sea - a syndrome no island dares to express. irrationality triggered under snow storms lost to the south of nostalgia - I am a woman! no wonder then, that snow flakes fall too, in Alexandria.

we are spoiling the sand, throwing it away, through universe sink holes, dispersed for our amusement, because we, like umbrellas, do not care, do not figure out the colors, the numbers that make up a dreamed land, trashed in jocular amnesia... the fog shall burn in me until I am ready to listen and speak to the loved rocks of ancient genders. the megalithic beings we touch are an alphabet due as contemplation, it's granular knitting an odyssey of time and structure ready to absorb light, dark, cold, heat and accept, a word we strive in denial; too obtuse.

re-sink the water from the tap, re-ejaculate your wise materialistic thoughts let's have a party then, just the two! I am a woman I know the lexicon of silence how it can build entire cities, so let's sweep the humus of our daily decomposition, just for a few hours, let's be a grain flying miles and merge earth wind and sea in a drop of ecstatic joy, now!

(We'll invite the rest later...)

© 2014, JC

Sensual Genders

Sensual Genders

She

the purest faith,
Saturnine too,

even by watery flames;
Off her yards! The words he...
Pain. Sin of such.

Infringing illness. Cut.

Blessed she in my

even though unappreciated

skin

He

Upon to trickle down her skirt

the seemly is moss

herd's black knight sullen

salt and dig the

length of charming

shake gently

there he was and

impiety,

milky man leaving

I

Oh even if

46 me carefully,

marbled vertexes. Look!

Another time next my sight,
to die, agonize
in pleasure.

We.

© 2014, JC

Sum'O Ari Mi - versão portuguesa

Sonho

uma viagem alucinate,

sinapses feitas de açucar

derrentendo

dendritres faíscando

ais soluçados

engonçando-se

rasgo. Apito. Nu!

Beijo suado em mim-mim

fixo canto sim

caaaala!

Aperta a fenda búzio

alquimista ou

caaaala!

Lá for a chuva

aaaaai

brilha alto

no céu o demónio

espreita. Só, ébrio

desco, eu sei que

Sum'O Ari Mi

mas rápido, porque

Sum'O Ari Mi

a voz quase desapar(ece)

gritos. Multidão, aonde?

Sei que não estou!

Aí, lá, talvez

NÃO

Mlé rif dá dá

Vocifero agulhas, pele

descontrai... água passando leve

silêncio

unhas cravam-se na

sei lá se si se lá

lá na ponta, gruta

eu sei que

vou descendo

Sum'O Ari Mi, talvez

crescendo nuvens

queda, irreal

toda a minha existência um

Sum'O Ari Mi

rio escorregando para

Mlé rif dá dá

o MAR

em franjas medonhas

medo, arrepios

descongela-me, por favor

quero saber se

estou lá, aí, já

gaita! São Anjos

Anjos Negros.

Sum'O Ari Mi

Dream
hallu ci nating trip,
sugar synapses
melting
dendrites flashing
hicc uped owies
hinge around

tear. Whistle. Naked!
Sweaty kiss in me-me
Fixed canto oui oui
stoooop!
Squeeze the crack
alchemist whelp or
Shut up!
Outside the rain
ouch!
shines high
the demon lurks up
in the sky. Alone, drunken

I go down, I know that
Sum'O Ari Mi
but fast because
Sum'O Ari Mi
voice barely disa pears
cries. Crowd, where?
I know I'm not!
There, in, therein, maybe
NO!

Mlé rif dá dá

Vociferate needles, skin
relax! ... water passing soft ly by
SILENCE!
nails stuck deep in
as if I know if in you if there
there on the edge, grotto
I know
'm going down
Sum'O Ari Mi perhaps
increasing clouds
fall, unreal
all my existence one
Sum'O Ari Mi
river slipping to
Mlé rif dá dá
the SEA
in dire fringes
fear, chills
thaws me, pleaaase
want to know if
I'm there, here, now?

Violins! They're angels,
Black Angels.

Sensuais

Sensuais

Ela:

Há musgo entranhado no mais puro dos seus quintais;

escorrem chamas aguadas pelas paredes da casa,

soturna, cinzelada a frio, sal e

vértices marmoreados cor-de-rosa

agonizam de prazer,

manchado,

enquanto...

Tu:

Encobres uma luz de alforreca a brilhar nos teus olhos,

quando te toco,

purpurinos,

nos teus seios inchados.

Então eu ponho-me e tu descalças-te e

soltas amarras lambidas,

viscosoidais,

de espuma e aguarela

a roçar as penas do meu

desfasamento

Ele:

Ocidental,

pleno de basílicas e naves mestras,

frequentador informal de mediatecas peçonhentas,

coleccionador de instantâneos nos parques e metro da cidade,

exibe a sua longitude às nuvens, quando peca ou

argoleia-se por-versos pombalinos,

nas colinas

com vista para...

© 2014, JC

Origami Inc., or Church Moments

Origami Inc., or Church Moments

Introduction)

Never got myself tempted

to adore priests or priestesses

their word, not God's!

however, church moments,

much more than that,

did get impregnated in my

memory chambers

(this place comes on my top list

of best places for taking a nap

in town)

Songs)

Sunday mornings

early

- some things have just to be

done,

so we walked down the avenue,

incense already dwelling

our brains,

entering a small,

obscure but filled with

gilded tally,

church named after Jesus,

Jesus

Being inside,

although just a few meters from

the main portico,

always left open,

was as if one

had moved from heaven to

catacombs;

Reading)

how well enlightened

could they be in such woven

beatific temples!?

Sermon)

Remembering now

how it felt at the time

the whole ceremony

elapsed inside a baptismal font

where little red fishes,

immersed deep in

pacific blues,

opened their mouths

in tune

reaching for

oxygen

that came in gentle

fluxes

from the angels painted

above

I mean, the whole thing was...

surreal, to say the least!

Even the water surface got

hypnotized

and swelled

gently

at the vibration emanated from the minister.

Not that anyone could

absorb a thing

or care about it

but maybe that was just

my impression

then;

the fact is that the whole

sermon

was inaudible, in part

because there was too much noise

moving in from

outside,

partly because he

could put a fly to sleep

with his steady

rocking motion

hips back and forward

in and out

behind the altar,

his voice a monotone -

just look at the acolyte:

his eyelids, heavy

enclosing to
sleep or meditation,

even before the

first sacred paragraph

finished reading.

Silence)

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

Prayers)

Not even the allure

of the princess buried inside

or the angelic image portraying her

sweet beauty

or the triumphant altarpiece

standing with pride

against carved walls

could make this scenario

turn

to real.

Conclusion)

And that's why I stood by the entrance,

sheltered in my dual attitude,

avoiding liturgical contamination.

© 2014, JC

Pangaea

Pangaea

Our balance is weak

anchoring places we take

from things we don't see.

Before the word ruled

over descendants of Eve

stateless we were free.

Our self will is grand

enough to destroy or make

new born live or die.

Pangaea the vast

unified one continent

was an illusion

we must embrace and

reach for as high paradigm

though asymptotic.

© 2014, JC

After Six Interlude

After a short interlude

wandering around narrow

granitic alleys, stone

pavements reflecting

last sky's light and

peering old ladies

behind draped

windows

the main plaza

stood vain and proud

before us

its fountain pouring

an after six pastry

melodic mood

seductively inviting anyone

to walk through

its majestic

irregular oval surface

glittering drops of

rouge

leather boots

tapping

exuberantly

prodding senses

into refined

delights

visual and olfactive

of suspicious

necessity

thence our unnamed reason

to coddle

serendipity.

© 2014, JC