Africa

Africa

(Impossible Love)

I've never been

the one aiming at

Africa, her skin aged

                          waiting

too long too

much skies

above us tundras, horses

galloping their white

Napoleon desire, unable to

conquer love

letter-sweet

kisses brewing, somewhere

as a disease

spreading its odor

silently, between

lips aching

in pain, for

uncertain parallels & meridians

turning the tissues

within

her hands, truly

a compass

following the eternal movement

of seabirds -

north & south

back & forth

- the stamina

of generations

rising as a voice

                       deep

of identity

I never woke up inside

Africa;

a faulty azimuth

put me

steering into another

continent

until today's

memories broke up

and I realized

Africa

was just

the name of this

poem.

© 2014, José Eduardo Coelho

Solução?

Solução?

Mata-se, corta-se, rebenta-

Se isso fosse solução

Esta página continuaria

Branca, incólume, livre e

Sedutora de olhos nos meus

Sem uma mancha, fosse de tinta

Ou de sangue prenhe de emoções

Próprias, alheias, sem

Razão para rasgar bocas, de tanto

Ódio e desprezo e entulho

Acumulado nos cantos do

Pensamento

Quando o

Há, nas mãos que

Matam,  cortam, rebentam.

© 2014, José Eduardo Coelho

In the Search of Pi Limits – II

In the Search of Pi Limits – II

(Impossible Poetry)

we. are

we. are a sequence of digits

we. are a sequence of digits rehearsing

we. are a sequence of digits rehearsing history as a fairy tale

we. are a sequence of digits rehearsing history as a fairy tale ready to unroll the next predictable though unknown page

we. are a sequence of digits rehearsing history as a fairy tale ready to unroll the next predictable though unknown page ad infinitum

we. are a sequence of digits rehearsing history as a fairy tale ready to unroll the next predictable though unknown page ad infinitum; may god be on our side

© 2014, José Eduardo Coelho

Alternativa?

A propósito de cores

não me resta outra

alternativa senão pôr-me no

arco-íris e

baloiçar até morrer

de embriaguez

colorida.

© 2014, José Eduardo Coelho

white-white

White-white

Just before

desperation began -

its odorless pits

nailing through the thickness in

my brain

           and global cornea

the white on the ceiling

suddenly

looked more intense than

ever

        (had I really seen white-white?)

I was almost sure

until they knocked the door

down and told me

that was I

thinking.

© 2014, José Eduardo Coelho

In the Search of Pi Limits

In the Search of Pi Limits

out. Side

the. Rain falls

it. Hurts dramatically to listen

and. Know every drop tilts in the search of

one. Limit without pattern, irrational but real, elusive end, promising ways to be continued though never achieved

for. Some moments a short array of lunar digits

beams. Into our graphical resort

hence. So cozy

in. Side

© 2014, José Eduardo Coelho

Mentiras

Gosto dos sítios que são

a sua luz

mundana de dia e na ausência

a noite

que deslumbram em matizes

de água

morna a celebrar origens

comuns

Gosto dos sítios que se elevam

acima das pessoas

que os habitam e

lhes emprestam

beleza

Quando morrer

hei-de ser mais um

sítio.

© 2014, José Eduardo Coelho

Propositions

Propositions

this white blank:

a dancer

seducing me to

move her by the hand

blade-bone

in a joint of pure

form & pleasure

teasing

my thoughts

as I grab its flat

surface

through the ink

black

yarn sewing sinful

propositions

under the moist

of the Atlantic

rise

this blank white:

never

leaves alone

or fills it-self to the

limit of

comprehension

white

blank

this.

© 2014, José Eduardo Coelho

Form Less

Form Less

The use of

geometry

in poetry lacks contemporary projection. In

Hilbert space

dimensions rose

to infinitely conceived planes. Mapping ideas to

ergodic

theory will

not resolve any dynamical behavior of content's measure. Not

unless time

frames its convex

nature into lyrical propositions. Nature?

© 2014, José Eduardo Coelho

Hugíssimo

Hugíssimo

Do we really understand

beyond the scope

of our measured

limitations

do we actually grasp

the meaning

of millions, billions, zillions

reading those signs

dealing with them - converting, calculating

doesn't mean we know

them from the inside

out

as things we touch

and learn their kind- or meanness

by experiencing pain

or pleasure

as decisions we take

and taste their sweet- or bitterness

from life onward

zeros have implications not

to underestimate;

together they can create

unimagined sets of

new propositions and

sensations

close to

love or paradox.

The

incommensurable

size of our

blindness

sets us forth, every day

into the enterprise

of healing

Nevertheless

is Friday and we're here

mentally, you could argue

maybe

© 2014, José Eduardo Coelho

Observações Estivais

Indiferente

ao pesado passar

dos minutos como se de rio se tratasse

puxou do tabaco e enrolou mais um cigarro

na direcção do pensamento ou da sua ausência,

quem sabe. A hora pedia calma e

sentimentos

longínquos. Até às quatro

o sol abrasador secava leitos e lágrimas

emanando cores superiores.

Nunca os dias foram tão

centrados

neste desígnio, de ser sem estar.

© 2014, José Eduardo Coelho