Intermittence of (or unfinished thought)

Intermittence of

(or unfinished thought)

The weather changed. How

I hate those twists

Snails approach with

numbness, leaving a trail

for the next season

a wet spot on the wall

allows me to know the rain

has been falling

for a while, I hear it

scrolling through

the gutter

and believe

intermittence is a word

describing much, as

rain

snails

and feelings

The line of thought

suddenly

as a telephone signal

breaks

I wanted to tell someone

about the snails

but

I'm left

alone

with their silent

image crossing my mind

slowly

and they are

increasingly.

© José Coelho, 2015

A Stroll to the Beach

A Stroll to the Beach

Today, we took a stroll to the beach

It´s incredible

how it always looks

the same

in a way, but not quite

First there´s the drive

and the radio

then we walk for about

20 min through old musk

dunes

covered with pine trees

(birds stained silence

diverting

time)

Just before reaching the last crest

you draw the landscape

ahead

in anticipation as if to

make sure nothing

goes wrong

“The big waves

warm, salted, they seduce me

and the wind whispers a constant

present throughout space. The blue sky

hits the sand, the sand

receives the waves in her large maternal

womb

and the sea all unites.”

The fact is

the water was damn cold

the wind was blowing too hard

the sand kept chiseling lines

and the sun

an ultra violet torrent

bashing over

our skins.

Poetry...

© José Coelho, 2015

The Decicion

The Decision

A symbolic life

of things, from opened envelopes

letters of outstanding lines

or countless windows

where huddled covert maidens

pretend to read -

were they something real

and I would speak -

diction framing my roots

of original

love and hate

of original allure and discontent

of so many original dingus

enough to kill

paths & corners

blocking

their

original dream-idea

opposed

But I refuse all this -

simply lack of interest!

© José Coelho, 2015

untitled I

A car drove by

We kept walking

blurred destiny

© José Coelho, 2015

The Match II

The Match II

Rewinding it

once, twice

I understand the place of

each arm

the meaning of

each leg or the size of

each finger or

move

The failure -

a granitic structure of

indefinite form

weights

waiting

upon improvement

Rewinding it, I

heed the faces of those

watching

their utterance

preempt the room with

inorganic

silences -

their sense of

easiness and direction

delude

fair play.

© José Coelho, 2015

The Match

The Match

adrenaline takes over

for awhile

I look down

and the only thing

that matters

is the tiny white

feather splinter

nestling against the floor

winning is always

a matter of

speed & discernment

© José Coelho, 2015

The Necklace

The Necklace

The perfect place

to embrace

transitiveness

32 cm length; the size

of her thinness

Pale gray, tender, with a side

effect in

continuum

She likes it tight, though

stifling

at times

The necklace breaks

apart each time she goes mad

or passionate

the influx

of blood too feral

for mild objects

32 cm length; the size

of her exposure

to friction

& renewal.

© José Coelho, 2015