domingo, 9 de novembro de 2025

TANGLED

 


















































José Manuel Vicente Jorge Raposo














TANGLED









3ª Edição

Rio de Janeiro

2011





FICHA CATALOGRÁFICA

































INTRODUCTION


Until I tried to translate some of my verses from the beautiful language of Camões to the one of Shakespeare, I had no idea that I could express some of my feelings much better in English than my Portuguese native tongue. 

"TANGLED", totally conceived and written in English, is a compilation of some of the thoughts, dreams, paradoxes and frustrations I want to share with my readers.

A page, or a book, full of "Thank you" will never be enough to show to my wife ISILDA how grateful I am for accepting my occasional moods and me. It is not easy, but she has always encouraged me during the moments and the hours when my mind has been somewhere else, some times, even thousands of miles away . . .

  She has always been the compass, which has pointed the right direction to me, with love and understanding; to her I dedicate this new book of poems, also lovingly inscribed to my son Michael, who is the best poem I have ever written. 

To my good friend Dr. Fernando Silva a faculty member at the University of California, Berkeley, grateful thanks for the time spent in reviewing my manuscript and all the advice given to me.

To the Queen of my poems, the muse of my lyrics and the fuchsia of my garden, I will be forever grateful for being at her service, for the moments of inspiration and for the beautiful color and fragrance of her flowers scattered upon me, as if by the gentle hand of a GOLDEN ANGEL.

José M.V.J.Raposo

PRELIMINARY WORDS







In ALMA REPARTIDA, his first poetic opus, JOSÉ MANUEL VICENTE JORGE RAPOSO expressed in his native Portuguese idiom a multitude of feelings that inundated his heart and his being, with the peculiar touch of an insular soul born in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.


Exteriorizing his thoughts, often in spontaneous, impromptu and intuitive fashion, he depicted a complexity of emotions, which ranged from the deeply romantic, tenderly decanted, to the furiously impulsive, loudly sounding, and even to the philosophical, perplexedly felt.


ALMA REPARTIDA was an auspicious entry in the distinguished arena of Portuguese poetry.


Poetry, among all artistic expressions of the human spirit, is the one that best seems to exteriorize the feelings and the emotions which animate, invigorate, exhilarate and define humanity.


In TANGLED, his new work, JOSÉ M. RAPOSO, presents, in English, a poetry which is, to a greater extent, free from traditional constraints and is, perhaps, more beautiful and even more expressive, for it exhibits not so much a man tossed by the nostalgia  of  the Atlantic waves and the caressing sun of  his   majestic  Azores  Islands,  but  rather  a soul more  preoccupied  














with existential questions  in manifold and multiform situations, which, then are translated as a tear, as a pain and grief, as a heart whisper, as a roar of fury or glory, as a echo of love, or a glimpse of the eternal mystery of main's self-realization in this complex world of ours.


But TANGLED is much more than a mere depository of JOSÉ M. RAPOSO's interaction with the world in which he lives. It is, rather a reliquary of an all-integrating awareness and ultimate acceptance of one's fellow human beings, as we walk together the paths of life, stumbling, at times, in confusion and frustration, shouting for love and joy, always tangled in the perplexities of existence… 






Fernando M. Soares Silva, Ph.D.

University of California, Berkeley












TANGLED






Tangled in a simplicity of living

I try to break away 

From the cobwebs of life.

Longing for the past,

I live the future with no present.

Swirling in a whirlpool of ideas

Like an upside down tornado

Traveling into the deepest oceans of thoughts 

Without leaving the surface.

Writing in my sleep 

With the pen of my memory

On the fine paper of my imagination,

I travel back to reality... 

I see the smoke,

Dissipating into the atmosphere,

Reminding me of what I know 

And the nothing that I am.















LONGING 

(Saudade)






Yanked by a desire for better living

And riding on the wings of destiny,

I left... 

Forget will I never

The trilling of the wild canary 

Or the whistle of the black bird;

The variegated color of the hydrangeas

Dividing the green fields, 

Or the multicolored azaleas 

In the parks and gardens;

The gentle waves kissing the black sandy beaches,

Or the fury of the surf pounding 

On the volcanic shores of the Island.

Thousands of miles away,

Wearing out the leather soles of my adulthood,

I long for the basaltic cobbled stones of my youth,

Where, so many times 

I left the skin of my feet.














TO MY FATHER






It was not the marks 

Of the whipping willow branches on my legs...

The imprints of the chain links on my back

Or of your fingers on my face 

That made me cry and hate you…

Time healed all of those... 

I do not have any more 

The marks of the whipping willow branches,

The imprints of the chain links or of your fingers.

It was the scars on my soul that hurt

And I still carry with me... 

So many times I wished you were gone...

And, on the day you departed

I thought I would be happy and jump for joy.

But, contrary to what I had expected,

As if I missed the whipping willow branches,

The chain and your fingers hitting my bare flesh,

I cried ... because,

You were gone forever.













IF I COULD






If I could be 

A little boy again

With my childhood dreams!


How beautiful it would be

To have once more my little toys.

The lead soldiers, the ponies,

The little boat and the plane.

How beautiful it would be.

To play with the soldiers on the battlefield,

To run with the ponies on the mountain.

To play with the little boat at the seashore.

To make the plane fly against the rain.

To stop and begin again.

How beautiful it would be.


But I know that only the future I will see

And a little boy again I cannot be.
















SILENCE                                                                                                                                                                                                                        

   



                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 


Silence is the sound of the secret

That was never told.

It is the noise of the creek of life

That never ran.

It is the scratching of the pen 

Of the poem that was never written.

It is the scream of death of the rose

That was never born.

Silence is the noise of the rain

That never fell.

It is finding the pearl 

That was never lost.

It is the closing of the door that was never open.

Silence is the absence of life.



















KILL THE SILENCE






My silence, is my way of talking...

Empty words of a full life with no meaning... 

Searching within myself

I find out I am somewhere else.

Dead star never born in a nonexistent galaxy.

Moribund light generating its fuel

Suffocated by the carbon monoxide 

Of its own flame.

Heavy weight in the vacuum

Produced by the friction of a non-moving object.

Break the chains of this prison of freedom.

Exit the locked cage of your thoughts

Through the gate of your existence.

Save a soul...

Kill the silence.
















THANK YOU






Maybe this is the note long overdue. 

Maybe this is the way to thank you 

For the things you have done for us. 

Maybe these are the unspoken words 

I always felt, and could never say.

Maybe this is the apology so long awaited... 

If we could only learn how to take from life

The everyday lessons that it teaches us,

Maybe we would be more sincere, honest

And thankful for waking up everyday...

If we would accept the dead colorful leaves of fall

As the new life Spring,

Instead of crying, we would sing.

Maybe this is the dissipating of the fog 

Giving place to the Love we always had,

Which was obscured by the clouds of our childhood... 

I have always felt it. Say it, I never thought.

I have always sensed it, sister. I knew...

Today I have no doubt.

Thank you.













MINDS






Very simple, open or sophisticated,

You can find them of all kinds

Closed, obtuse and complicated,

Are also of people’s certain minds.


Passionate, mysterious and amicable

Disturbed occult and mean...

Influential, giving and capable

With substance, value, and clean.


Translucid, intelligent and bright 

Strong, powerful and also sick

Some opaque and so weak

If they could only see the light... 


Were there in the world more honesty,

We could all live in harmony.
















TRICKS OF THE MIND






Dry tears

From smiling eyes

Leveled roads

Full of dips.

Raindrops 

From blue skies... 

Silent words

From closed lips.

Roses blooming

In deserts of sand

With colors 

Of every kind.

Real proof

That there is no end

For the tricks

Of the human mind.















IT'S NOT ALWAYS GOOD






I swim on the rocks,

I walk in the oceans

I can feel the talks

And hear the emotions.


I dream by day,

I don't sleep at night,

Looking for the way

To be always right.


I empty my brain  

Of what I think... 

And feel the pain

Of the thoughts I drink.


Now I understand

The reality... 

It's not always good

To speak honesty... 










THE OTHER SIDE OF ME





I was alone,

Among the crowd.

Somebody whispered 

Really loud.

It was a voice

Very familiar.

Coming from far

And yet so near.


The crowd left

In harmony.

And the voice kept

Me company.

I looked around 

Almost in fear.

And the voice 

I could still hear.


Because nobody

I could see,

I asked with anger

Who could it be?

And the voice answered 

Clearly

That it was the other

Side of me.












TO SOMEONE WHO…





Only a friend would open her heart as you did.

Taking out all the ghosts of your dreams,

For I could listen of your soul the screams.

How could I ignore 

Your young and beautiful face

The problems you had,

And I was sure nobody cared? 

So I listened till the end.

And when you had finished 

I had made a friend.

Oh God!

Were you scared?

But, I will be here any time you come.

How could you think it was the end of the rope,

When a new life had just begun?
















IT WILL BE ME






When I die,

Do not feel sorry for me.

Do not tell anybody 

That I was a good person... 

I am the same whom you called an S.O.B.

So many times.

You do not have to make believe 

You were my friend.

I was only good whenever you needed me.

Whenever I cried for help,

You never listened.

You left me alone with my problems

And the complications of life.

As you look at my coffin

And you examine your conscience,

My soul will be laughing.

If I go to Heaven, 

Maybe I will forgive you.

But if I go to Hell.

I will find a way to get out 

And if you hear a knock on the door.

It will be me... 





                                         







YESTERDAY






Yesterday is no longer here

This moment is already gone.

Only the future exists... 

And because the future

Comes so fast, 

It becomes present

And since the present 

Is already gone, 

There is only past.

There are only memories,

Some bad some good.

If I could have only understood.

There is so little time... 

Tomorrow is already today

And before we know it,

Will become yesterday,

And gone forever... 

Only the memories are present.

Sweet memories of old days.
















ON THE WINGS OF THE WIND






On the wings of the wind I flew,

Trying to reach the sky.

Like a bird I wanted to fly

And discover something new.


I crossed over oceans of tears.

On clouds of hope I landed.

And when my flight ended

I still had not conquered my fears.


Fly no more want I.

For it is too big the sky

Of my dreams and my doubts.


Rather stay with my imperfection.

And somehow change the direction

To erase the ghosts of my thoughts.















PHILOSOPHICAL REALITY






Unexplained palpitations of the heart... 

Dark thoughts, mixed emotions.

Bullets fired by invisible hands with no guns

Hitting the target with the precision 

Of a sharp shooter.

Dead wishes of living

In a decaying society of political correctness

And wrong doing to the fellow man.

Metamorphosis of ideas never germinated,

In aborted minds... 

Unfulfilled will of wanting all

But without the effort of creating anything.

Travelers in the vacuum of imagination... 

In quest of transcendentalism,

The empirical will meet the spirit

On the material road of self-destruction.

















PRAY FOR THE LIVING






If a soul is in Heaven,

It does not need anything... 

If it went to Purgatory,

Someday to Heaven it will go.

If it is in Hell,

Will never get out of there,

No matter what we do.


Don't be fools... 


Don't give or pray for the souls

Of those that are no longer here.

They are gone, they can't hear.

Your oblations to them,

Should cease... 

But, if you are still thinking

About praying or giving... 

Pray for the living,

And let the dead rest in peace.
















SECOND COMING






Some don't believe in Him,

Some say He never existed.

While others are still waiting

For Him to be born,

There are those who believe

He will come a second time.

Amidst all this confusion 

That we have everyday,

Whether or not it is a crime,

Somebody might say

That He has already arrived... 

But with so many opinions, 

And some minds distorted,

He could have already been aborted.
















UNLESS YOU ARE AT THE END OF IT






I wish I could be the cosmic wind

Which fills every inch of the universe

And cannot be seen.

I wish I could travel at warp speed 

Through galaxy after galaxy

And be able to reach the beginning of time.

How much easier it is to believe in creation

Than studying Darwin and the evolution!

Why did You God give such power to man?

Could it be that You have not yet finished your work?

Or, are we still evolving?

Why did You make man so small, 

And yet powerful enough to doubt you?

Why did You keep giving him the knowledge?

To alter what you have created?

Can't You see that he is only making bigger

The black hole of his own existence,

In which he little by little is getting lost?

Unless, you are at the end of it…!












THEY NEED YOU ON EARTH






Religion is: "The opium of the people,"

Said Karl Marx. Could he have been right?

There is no more powerful drug in the world!

Wars are fought; people lose their legs,

Their arms, their sight.

Cities are bombed, countries are devastated.

Children cry for their moms and their dads...  

Taken away from their homelands

By some humanitarian organization

And like young trees they are transplanted 

To foreign soil... 


Some may have been lucky! 

By giving their lives for an ideal 

Which was never understood, 

They encounter death on the way... 

They will suffer no more!

And when they will meet 

The Almighty God face to face, they will ask:


What are You doing in Heaven

When they need You on Earth?













GIVE ME






Give me the force of the wind,

And the power of the waves.

Give me the depth of the oceans.

And the height of the mountains.

Give me the serenity of the moon.

And the darkness of the night.

Give me the light of the Sun,

And the brightness of the day.

Give me the perfume of the rose

And the beauty of the lilies.

Give me the strength of the lion

And the speed of the leopard.

Give me the flight of the dove

And the eye of the falcon.

Give me all…


And, I would give up everything

To find true happiness.















EGO






I have seen the beats of my heart

Flying away through the windows of my soul.

Overflowing the gates of my eyes,

Drying out the dams of my ego.


I have listened to my blood over speeding

On the racetrack of my life.

Damaging, polluting and killing

The deadly curves of my brain.


And the day came when I ended all my fears.

And I saw:

- No eyes,

- No heart,

- No soul.

Just my ego 

And the remains of some tears.









DRINKS





Oceans of tears  

In glasses of wine

Stormy winds  

In a pitcher of beer.

José Cuervo, will do fine

To kill somebody's fear.


Calm waters 

In Irish coffee.

In gin and tonic a big illusion.

Lime and sugar 

With a shot of vodka,

Will create more confusion.


Skip & go naked 

With a slow 

Comfortable screw,

If you are 

Between the sheets,

You know you had a few.


It is coming 

A hurricane

And the moon full of dust.

In the morning after

You will feel the pain

Of a nail full of rust.













BITTER DRINK





I can see the dregs at the bottom 

Of the cup of my sorrows.

Sediment of my thought

Product of the complexity 

Of my ideas.

Distorted meaning of my words

Written in moments of passion

To make believe 

I am who I am not, 

When I am, who I am.

Unknown reasons of my being…

Compressed feelings,

Bursting for no reason, 

In search of an intellectual peace…

I will gladly drain 

The poisonous cup of my sorrows

To the last dregs…

If that is the only way to savor

The elixir in the calyx 

Of eternal life.















TO POLLY





At the hands of a vicious criminal

You lost the right you had to live.

He shall be kept forever captive

That man who is worse than an animal.


Now that you are in God's company.

Shining like a bright but distant star,

Send your light from heavens afar

To console and guide your family.


Maybe God wanted you, Polly,

In Heaven and in His eternal Glory,

But why in a terrible way?


You may have forgiven your assassin 

For the tremendous and mortal sin

But in the world for justice we pray.








WHY?





The Rock the River and the Tree

Had no choice and nothing to do with their existence.

Are they the product of nature?

Or a creation of a God

In whom we trust but we do not see?

That Rock... 

"Host to species long since departed",

Has been eroded by torrents of   tears

From the eyes of the Asian, the Hispanic…

And all the others.

Disremembering what it never knew…

The song of joy that the river was singing

Turned out to be the lament

Of the "Asian, The Hispanic, The Jew, 

The African and the native American”

The tears of all those people:

- "The Gay, the straight, the Rabbi, the priest… "

 And all the others,

Made the banks of the river overflow,

Washing away the old rock.

They kept crying…

The river rose so much, that the Rock disappeared.

The rushing waters,

Washed away the soil that was supporting the tree.

It could stand no longer

And was swollen by the river,

Ending up at the bottom of an ocean of tears.

When the pulse of the new day came,

The brothers and the sisters looked at each other's eyes.

They did not say:

-"Good morning"

They asked… 

Why?














LAY DOWN THE ARMS






Lay down the arms but make the revolution…

Dismiss the generals, hire good teachers,

Change the battlefield into a classroom.

Use a sheet of paper as a shield… 

Have a pen for a gun.

Let every letter be a bullet…

Aim at the target and pull the trigger.

Kill ignorance,

Mankind's worst enemy.








 









IS THERE OIL IN TIMOR?!






We sent the marines to Kuwait, 

Aircraft and war ships.

Paratroopers and infantry

Armed with weaponry... 

Young men and women

Fighting on a hot sand,

Protecting strangers in a strange land.

We fly across the ocean

And over the desert

To go help Somalia.

We go to Croatia,

Bosnia and all those other

Fragments which sometime ago

Formed one nation.

If America sees anything 

From which it can benefit anywhere,

In a few hours she is there…

Get up, Mr. President!

Wake up the House and the Senate

Get a Portuguese dictionary

And look for "dor".

It probably would not do any good…

Is there oil in Timor?!...
















TO KAREN VALENTINE




The unique harmony

Of the Portuguese guitar,

Passionate, followed

By the "violão" and its sighs,

Brought back memories... 

Vivid images of your childhood

Celestial music pervaded your ears.

Golden heart... happy tears…

Elegant steps!

Beautiful eyes…

Great Woman!   

Forget not will you ever

The turns of the "Chamarrita"

And the undulation of Azorean lullabies.

















TO MY GODDAUGHTER "CARLA" ON HER

"SWEET SIXTEENTH"




The accelerating and irreversible velocity

Of the clock of time, turned another page

In the book of your existence at a slow pace.

Because you are young and full of grace,

Your heart has only seen

The beauty and the color of the roses of youth, 

And not yet felt the thorns of life.

Their aroma enters your soul

With the scent of innocence.

And as you approach them,

They rend homage to your presence.

As the roses dry,

And you feel the sharp thorns of reality,

Do not cry.

Do not scream!

Remember your sweet sixteenth.

As the years come by,

Will also come more responsibility.

Acquire more wisdom, more knowledge,

And you will have the possibility

And the courage

To build a better world.















A ROSE FOR KING






Velvet petals…red wishes of soft lips.

Aromatic breeze,

Unheard music of the wind,

Palatable fragrance of dreams,

In misty mornings.

Hidden kisses reflected in dewdrops,

Rays of sun singing at distance,

Melodies of colorful eyes.

Untold secrets of burning flames,

Only the heart can see…!

Message of an early spring…

Hymns of nature vibrating inside ME

Picked with love…

A rose for King.


















TROUBLED FLIGHT






Abandoned nest… lost bird…

Left on a flight without wings.

Predators waiting 

For a moment of distraction… 

Looking for love? No! Satisfaction…

Caught in society’s net

With a non-calibrated compass.

Flying north…wanting to go south.

Lost sense of direction.

Dreamland far away,

Blocked by the clouds of youth.

When the Sun rises tomorrow,

Be happy. 

Forget the sorrow.

Correct your mistakes.

Enjoy life.

It's the best thing you have.





















MEGAN'S EYES





Lucent stars…divine lights…!

Pharos of rescue on tormented seas.

Glowing torches of serene nights.

Sweet reveries, company of journeys… 

Horizon of so many flights.

Touchable visions…honest smiles.

Loyal friends of a kind heart

Bonded forever with invisible ties

Open windows of a happy soul... 

Wistful rhythm of a barcarolle.

}}}... Megan's eyes...{{{













THANKS, SOY!


To my friend Soyara Kang Molloy








The day, long waited is here…

And, you are nervous!

Your heart jumps like a little kid

And your brain works so fast.

It is even possible that due to the speed

You will find some blanks… 

But, let me fill them with my thanks.


Thanks, Soy!


For taking care of our son,

For watering the plants

And make sure that the dog wouldn't run.

For feeding the pigeons, the rabbits,

And the canaries.


Thanks, Soy!


For everything that we asked and you did

And for what we did not ask and was done.


Thanks, soy!


Even for the times 

That the cash register did not balance

Or you couldn't find the orders,

Because, you were looking in another direction.













Thanks, Soy!


For being so close to perfection.


Thanks, Soy!


For bringing sunshine to a cloudy day

For everything that you said 

And for what you thought 

And you did not say…


Thanks, Soy!


For always giving a hand,

And being there.

At home, in the cleaners, or anywhere.

Thanks for being a friend.


I have only two more things to say,

Mrs. Molloy.

Enjoy your wedding day

And,


Thanks, Soy.









WHAT A SIN





Lights off,

Moon shrinking,

Tied rising.

Woman tired, 

Breathless chest,

Child sleeping.


Fallen tree,

Owl hooting,

Leaves falling.

Waters running,

Pigeons cooing,

Wind whistling.


Absent mind,

Love near.

Silent heart,

Crazy idea.

Absent love

What a sin.

















A MORNING DREAM?!





I woke up early in the morning, 

And walked straight to the sofa 

Where she was sleeping…

I just stood there for a while…

Her face was so beautiful,

And I could see on her lips the smile.

They looked like one of the roses on the table.

Their perfume was stronger,

And the taste! I could feel it.

I wanted it, but I was not able…

Then, my dream came to an end.

It is wrong to betray a friend,

And I had no right to disturb an Angel.



                                










REJECTION






Your eyes shine

Like stars in the firmament…

They look like two incandescent bodies

Pointing the road to salvation…

But, when closer looked,

They are like the eyes of the viper

And they irradiate that hypnotic look

Which paralyses its victims…

Your mouth speaks words,

Unreachable, which appear

To contain all the honesty

And the warmth that someone needs.

But when understood

They are more dangerous than the

Chants of the mermaids…

Your arms…

Covered with a soft velvet

Where sometimes I dreamed

Being involved 

They are not more than a cobweb

In which I am glad not to have fallen.

Your breasts, high pyramids

From where I thought I could reach the sky

Form a dead valley.

And, it is hard for someone,





















To get away.

Your heart…

If you have it

Is like the one that Barbara Streisand

(Whom you admire so much), sings:

- "My heart belongs to me"

And your being!

Vast magnetic field

Of identical polarity…

Proving, that the closer

To me you are…

The stronger will be the force

That separates us.














BROKEN HEART, DEAD ROSE, LOST LOVE.






The red rose that you brought in January,

Had a promise of life, but died soon.

It was the only and the reason primary

To have in August another afternoon…


The cup thrown into the fireplace

With the hope that love would last forever,

Was as if your heart had taken its place,

And now you try to put the pieces together.


Across the sky flapping yours wings,

Or drinking water from different springs,

You feel free like a morning dove…


Another cup can always be bought,

But you will carry forever the thought

Of a broken heart, dead rose and lost love.



NEW HOPE





Sometimes…

We take the longest and hardest road

To reach the garden of life.

And, once we are there,

We choose the most beautiful rose,

Forgetting the painful agony

Of the thorns, by the touchable perfume

Of its petals.


Fall comes... 

Nature cries!

And, like the dry tears

That washed away the unwanted feelings,

The rose dies.


We do not forget the pain.

It is hibernated in the winter of our minds.


As spring comes,

Our hearts get warm.

Life gives us roses of all kinds.

It is the chance to correct 

The mistakes we made.


Take another road!

Find happiness,

And thank life

For giving us

A new hope.








EARLY BIRD






Long before the sun rises,

You can hear nature waking up.

You can smell the beauty of the flowers

And listen to the coos of the morning doves.

It's as if every creature washes its eyes

With the invisible droplets of water

Left in the air by the cold of the night,

To better see a new day.

I turn around and stretch my arms

Half asleep.

And in the place

Where you were the night before,

I can only find a cold sheet.

Have I ever seen

The miracle of a sunrise?

Or heard the coos of the morning doves

Or even seen the creatures, washing their eyes?

I have only photographed in my memory

The crepuscule of the sunsets.

And as my Sun goes down,

I wish it would never come up 

So I would not have to encounter 

The despondency of a new day…














NEW BOAT





Alone in the sea of my torments,

I keep sailing against the storms

That inflicts pain, like sharp thorns,

And nobody hears my laments.


The sails are gone, broken is the mast.

I have no compass. I don't see the stars.

My hull is breaking from the scars

I see no future, and gone is the past.


Voices agonizing, screaming inside

Trying to destroy the presence of mind.

Holding on to a board, I am afloat.


As soon as I will see the beach

I will swim and the shore I will reach

And from an old love we'll build a new boat.
















UNTITLED 

          




I have always been honest and truthful,

In my thoughts, my words and my feelings.

Never gave any of them different meanings…

Stupid me! I realize I have been a fool.


I tell you everything, every wish, every desire.

You have always been free to be yourself 

It is not right to be burned and feel no fire…

Maybe I should no longer be myself…


You have given me support in every fight…

When I am on the dark you turn on the light.

You are the Sun and the morning of everyday.


In every argument you have taken my side…

And I am the one with my stupid pride 

Who says things, which I should never say.


















LET ME DREAM…





Let me dream that she is in my arms

With her head resting on my chest,

Listening to my heartbeat.


Let me dream that she is the one

For whom I am waiting.

Let me dream of her lips

Covering my body with kisses.


Let me dream of caressing her breasts

And adore her nudity

As if she were a goddess of love.


Even if during the sleep I scream,

Let me dream, let me dream all the above

Because you are the reality

And the one I love.

And she will always be a dream.

Let me dream, let me dream, let me dream…















SHE IS A POEM






I can versify to the blooming of a flower,

To the Sun, the moon, and the stars.

I can versify to the shadows of imagination, 

Or the figures of reality.

To nature and God's creation,

To war and insanity.

To the waves moved by a breeze

Kissing the warm sand of a beach.

Or to the surf by the force of the wind

Pounding against the rocks.

To the golden curls of a child

Or to the bouncing waves of a L’Oreal woman.

I can versify to death; I can versify to life…

It is hard to write verses to my wife…

She is a poem…
















ALL FOR YOU, MY WIFE 






It was long ago… 

It seems as if it were yesterday.

I still remember the joy of our wedding day.

Bare root rose transplanted to a new garden.

As buds, blossom we smelled the fragrance,

Enjoyed the color of its petals.

In the autumns of our lives and the storms of our winters,

The petals and the leaves were blown away

By strong gusts of wind.

During the dry hot days of summer,

The wetness of our tears had enough moisture

To make the rose survive.

A pruning mistake debilitated its appearance…

When spring arrives, new buds will bloom.

The branches will be stronger.

It will have a new life… 

And it will be all for you, my wife.









TOGETHER




I see the water running in the river

And I think…

Take me with you

Wherever you are going.

Let me touch the green grass 

Of the riverside.

Let me jump, let me hide.


Take me through the plains.

Let me travel on the curves

Of your meanders.

Let me feel the height of the waterfalls

Let me hear from the bird the calls.


Let me feel the taste of the ocean

And the cold of the deep sea.


Let me feel the warmth of the Sun

And play with the colors of the rainbow.

Let me fly to the highest clouds.

Let me glow.


Let me drop in heavy rain

Or be the mist of a morning Spring

Let me feel the joy, let me sing…


Let me go back to the river 

And take me with you…

Let's go together…











FLAME OF DESIRE





I wish I could taste the smile of your eyes

And look at the beauty of your lips.

Caress the thoughts of your mind

And feel on my hands the weight of your soul.

Touch your elegant walk

And be the ground where you put your feet.

Hold the sound of your voice

And visualize your heartbeat.


I wish I could drink the perfume of your body,

And smell your innermost thoughts.


I wish I were the rain drops on your face

And the sun that shines on your golden hair.

I wish I were the wind kissing them dry

Getting inebriated by its softness

And feel its grace.


Let's keep alive the fire 

Of this flame of desire,

By joining hands

And just be friends.














BIRD'S FLIGHT






 When dusk comes, 

 Birds fly

 Looking for shelter, 

 To sleep and rest.

 If someday, 

 You come by,

 Inside my heart, 

 You’ll find a nest.


 But if at dawn, 

 You feel free

 To flap your wings 

 And get out of sight,

 I will have forever 

 The nice memory

 Of a bird's 

 Beautiful flight.













TEAR OF JOY





I can hear the sound of the words

That you type on the screen.

I can see the dance of your feelings

Among the pronouns and the verbs…

I can detect the hidden meanings

Embedded in my brain,

Of the adjectives and the proverbs…


Even if you obey the grammatical rules,

The sentences jump out of place 

The paragraphs are shuffled 

But with grace.


Like the honey bee 

Extracts the nectar from a flower.

I savor every moment.

Too bad a minute is not an hour…


There is something underneath you name

It's getting bigger…

And as I reached to touch the screen,

It dropped on my hand.

I took it to my lips,

My heart came to a stop…

And, I could taste the salt.

It was a tear of joy.








SONG OF LOVE





On a beach of dreams,  

Our minds will embrace.

Riding the waves 

Our lips will be…

Our thoughts will taste 

Like ocean spray…

A kiss of the wind 

Brought from the sea.


A castle of dreams, 

Built would be,

With our tears 

Wetting the sand.

We don't want 

The world to see

What people 

Cannot understand…



Our naked souls 

Floating in the skies 

Like stars 

Glowing above.

Will leave engraved  

With our sighs, 

The musical notes

Of a song of love.











WELCOME TO CALIFORNIA






Somewhere on a beach out here

There is a rock waiting for you.

Everyday there is a wave that comes

And washes it.

So, when you arrive

The rock will be clean.

The golden Sun will be shining to greet you.

Fish will jump out of the water

To say good morning.

The sound of the Pacific Ocean

Will sing melodies

That you have never heard before.

Neptune will gather the mermaids

To come out of the deep sea

And sprinkle your golden hair

With the most beautiful crystals.

Aeolus will guide a suave breeze

From the horizon

To kiss your beautiful face

And say:

 - Welcome to California.











IMPOSSIBLE LOVE





I see a figure, sitting on a rock,

Contemplating the ocean. 

Could it be she?

Inside, I feel a storm of emotions…

I want to go back and disappear,

Or walk straight into the waves…

But little by little, I am getting near.

It is a struggle 

Between the matter and the mind.

It is a pain of the worst kind.

Dragged by an invisible force

And pushed by an uncontrollable fire

I am burning in desire.

I keep going, and touch the rock.

She turns around and smiles... 

She gets off the rock, takes my hand

And we walk into the sea.

She dives into her world…

By the strong waves 

And a will to survive,

I am washed ashore,

Where I cry the reality 

Of an impossible love.











DON'T CRY!






If it melts from the wings

The hope with which I glued my feathers,

And like a paratrooper whose parachute 

Did not open, I fall from the sky,

Don’t cry!


If the calm sea which I am sailing,

Turns into a hurricane, ripping my sails,

Breaking the helm, and if in my boat 

I can no longer rely,

Don’t cry!


If the storm blows me away 

From my flock, and I end up

In places where I have never been

With my wings broken unable to fly. 

Don't cry!


If in alphabetic order, on the daily paper,

My name you see,

Remember me…

Say good-bye, but

Don’t cry!

                                                  








THE YELLOW ROSE OF TEXAS





Taken away by a morning breeze,

Wafting in the wind,

Guided by the sunshine 

Across the prairies,

Climbing over the mountains 

And across the desert,

It arrived at the shores 

Of the Golden State.

The aroma could never be bottled…

By inhaling it,

One can feel the wonderful power of nature.

One can see the graceful flight 

Of the butterfly and hear the birds singing.

But I wanted more than that.

I wanted to touch it…

And as I tried, I felt a sweet pain.

Drops of blood dripped from my fingers.

While someone arrived to kiss them

And wash them with the tears I cried.

I could sense the invisible nexus,

And asked

Who are you?

Looking at me, she smiled

And with a loving voice replied:

-" The yellow rose of Texas".











LOOKING FOR LOVE 





In the oceans of your dreams

You look for love... 

That love sincere and honest

Like the blossoms of the spring.

That love like the refreshing mornings

Of summer,

Which turns into the beautiful color 

Of the autumn leaves.

Love that will warm you up 

During the cold nights of winter... 

And you will put the spring and the summer 

Together with the autumn and the winter

The flowers, the birds, the sun and the rain.

Put all together in somebody's hearth

As if they were the magic potion 

That will bring what you are looking for.

And when the dream goes away

And somebody’s lips awaken you

Touching yours, 

You will gladly scream

I found you 

My Love.








FORGIVE ME, MUSE!



My muse is gone…

What have I done?

Is she inspiring other poets!

She has no words for me anymore.

Maybe I wanted too much from her

And she got tired.

Or I used all the inspiration 

That she had to give.


My muse is gone... 

What have I done?

She is no longer sitting on that rock

Nor walking on that beach... 

Was I dreaming? 

And did not see it coming?

Was I lost in my thoughts? 

And I did not listen to my cries?

Did I cried so much that I did not 

Listen to my thoughts?


No longer my poems will have 

The grace of the nymphs,

And the beauty of the mermaids.

But they will always have 

The perfume, the innocence 

And the honesty of a yellow rose

Never sent.


My muse is gone ... 

And I had no chance to thank her ... 

Forgive me muse for what I've done... 











IMAGINARY LOVES






Imaginary loves

In stormy nights.

Vivid flames 

Of consumed candles...!

Untraceable trajectories

Of unfinished flights.


Figures dancing 

In the fire.

Irreversible dreams 

Of reality.

Unspoken words,

Lost embrace.

Silent screams

Of agony.


Lonely walks

In a fast pace

To the road

Of infinity.










GO AWAY BLACK BIRD





If we ever meet again, 

Do not give me any hopes.

Do not smile.

If I am on the left side of the street

Move to the right.

If I am coming toward you,

Change direction.

I do not want to feel what I felt.

I do not want to say what I said.

Flap your wings and fly…

Do not perch on any tree.

Do not build a nest on the eves

Of my dreams.

Keep flying.

The melodies you sang 

At the windows of my soul,

Are now the loud echoes.

Have distorted tunes.

Your musical morning notes

Are the nonsense squeaks 

Of sleepless nights.

Do not knock on my door.

Do not peck on my window.

Let me sleep.

Go away black bird.














MAGIC HANDS






From the moments of an unforgotten past,

The remorseful thoughts of the present,

I savor the moment that never happened... 

Unfinished road paved with unfulfilled wishes.

Never built bridge where we walked together

Over the fog of our minds.

Pounding hearts... 

Young stallion, excited by the soft touch

Of a master... 

Vesuvian lava… never harvested pollen... 

Lost nectar never savored... 

Enticing treasure... never explored... 

Dancing images in thin air

For ever lost... 

In the softness of magic hands.












WHAT PEOPLE DO






Thousands of miles away...

In front of a screen,

Stroking keys…people talk...

Some don't know they say.

Some are kind, some are mean.

Trips are planned, promises are made.

Some are young, some are old...

Truths are said, lies are told...

New friends are found...

Tears are cried,

Feelings are hurt.

Lovers swear...happiness arrives.

Cheating husbands...

Lonely wives...

Incommensurable Ocean with no waves...

Surfers without a board...

There is bad, and there is good...

Some are happy, some are sad...

Some are sane, some are mad...

It depends on the mood.

Some come, others go...

It's only people, doing... 

What people do.



















CAPTIVATED






Like a rain drop evaporated by the sun... 

You disappeared... 

I could still see the traces in plain air,

Like a butterfly tossed by the wind

Floating gracefully...

Wishes vanished... 

Unfulfilled dreams.

Captivated images... 

Presents of the past and hopes of a future...

Dreaming in the darkness of the night,

I await the arrival of a new morning.




















ETERNAL LOVE 






Eternal blue...the color of your eyes... 

Golden curls kissed by the wind.

Rays of sun coming from the skies.

Feelings inside which I cannot exscind.


Distant rose that I will never smell... 

Strawberry lips… beautiful face...

Words of love, if to you I tell

Will never find in your heart a place.


Another rose your beauty will embrace

A true love, love to you will give... 

In a world of joy, happiness and solace.

In her arms forever you will be captive.


With truth respect and honesty,

Such love will live eternally.


















  SILENT CRIES






Is it promises of love?

From across the land...!?

Or imagination coming from within?

If I raise and fall again,

Will I be forgiven for the same sin?

Promises of Love...

I can't understand... 

Crossed rainbows in blue skies... 

Where the beginning meets the end.

Are they truths? Are they lies?

Or is it only for you, my friend,

Of my soul's silent cries?




















LOVE LESSON






Sparkling bubbles ... lightened candles... 

Bed of roses...velvet ropes...

Sweet touch... Wishes...she handles!

Inside, her heart is full of hopes.


True Love can come twice...

From melted candles...ardent flame.

With kisses of cold ice,

The wildest lion can be tame.


Will not be imagination.

You will have happy cries,

From the wonderful plantation

In the valley of your thighs.


Harvested by words...fingertips...

Frozen grapes by soft lips...

















VOICE IN THE WIND 





Waves undulating, 

Swaying trees.

Clouds moving,

Here she is.


Images floating

In the air,

Sunrays dancing

On her golden hair.


How sweet it is.

Oh, what a bliss,

To have all of this

From a blown kiss.


Even while sleeping

I will not rescind...

My mind is listening 

To her voice in the wind.














VANQUISHED WARRIOR 




Invisible as the wind,

Like the gentle morning breeze,

She came by…

Embraced by her soft and tender words,

Still I stood.

If I only had guessed…

Or understood…

I saw… I felt…

Warm and kind feelings.

Patches of blue in gray skies.

In my heart, strange sensation.

No mistake... no equivocation…

Keep traveling, voice!

You are as free as the wind that carries you,

If I ever sail the same sea,

I'll tie myself to the mast of my tormented boat.

And, like Ulysses, I will listen to your chants, siren.

Sheathe your sword-vanquished warrior…

Troy is gone…

Helen lives no longer,

And Homer I am not.

If each other again we will never see,

By knowing that you are happy,

Happy I will be.













TENDER ORCHID 






Either wild in the dense rain forest...

Where the honeybee her nectar drinks,

Or at home, safe. Lovely nest!

From gentle lips... kisses, she thinks.


Immaculate beauty... fragrance... sweet smell.

Touch her petals? I will fear...

Love poems to her I will tell.

To quench her thirst from my eyes, one tear.


During the day she will be my guide.

At night, lullabies, she will sing...

Making of me a man...or a kid.


My Love, my honor and my pride,

You are my summer, you are my spring

Of the Smokies...Lady...Tender Orchid...

















I WILL BE THERE 






Give me a thread,

I'll make you a gown.

Give me a brick,

I'll build you a house.

Give me a seed,

And I'll plant you a garden.

Give me a word,

And I'll write you a poem.

Give me a note,

I'll sing you a song.

Give me Love,

And I'll give you the world.

Give me hope 

I'll go anywhere

Give me a second,

And I will be there... 


















MY FAULT?






There is just so much pain...

Oh, cruel world!

Oh, death! Where are you?

Why does the sun shine for some? 

And the skies are gray for others?

Oh vengeance...!

The day will come.

Then, it will be too late.

But, if it is my fate...

Life has its path.

The rivers will run with no water.

The ocean will have no waves.

Oh crazy world!

Where is justice?

Why? Why doesn't this come to a halt?

Well!    

Is it only my fault? 


















DARLA’S EYES







During the storm, away, blown was I.

Across a green ocean whose horizon I could not see.

Romancing the waves my quill would cry,

Lost in the reflection of an emerald sea.

Awaken nights having them for company,

Shortening the depths of my agony... 


Endless dreams... song of a mermaid.

Young memories of stories never told.

Exotic melodies... by men never played

Stay with me...please...until I'm old.

















LET THE WORLD SING





Put words into music

And let the world sing.


Clean the streams, clean the rivers,

Clean the oceans and the seas.

Save the whales, save the dolphins,

Save the forests and the trees.


Save the eagles, save the owls,

And the blossoms from the spring.

Put words into music,

And let the world sing.


Save on the land every creature

In the ocean and in the sky,

Because if we protect nature,

Much less we'll have to cry.


Save the eagles, save the owls

And the blossoms from the spring

Save the rocks and save the flowers

And let the world sing.














WHO TAUGHT THE BIRDS HOW TO READ MUSIC?





Written on the staff of the rainbow 

There is a love song.

The birds in unison, 

Conducted by mysterious hands

Greet the beginning of a new day 

As the Sun rises on the horizon.

You can hear the flats and the sharps, 

The pianos and the fortes.

All the instruments and voices

As if they were one.

The symphonic voice of nature.

The chill of the night that just ended

Gives place to the warmth of a beautiful morning.

And I ask myself

Who taught the birds how to read music?


















ONLY MY POEMS





Only my poems know what I do

When I tell the truth or when I lie.

Only my poems know where I go

Only my poems know when I cry.


Only my poems know when I fell

What I saw and what I see.

Only my poems know what I tell

Only my poems know who is she.


Only my poems know whom I am hiding,

Where our dreams juxtaposed are us taking

And our souls together fly.


To those who are trying her to find

I will simply answer very kind.

Only my poems know. And, tell won't I.












NIGHTINGALE




If I were a nightingale 

A melody I would sing to you,

Very early in the evening

And before the morning dew.


If I were the golden Sun

I would send one of my rays

To guide you through your life

And warm up your cold days.


If I were the moonlight

I would shine on your face

And the world you have the sight

Of your beauty and your grace.


If I were the evening breeze

I would waft across the land

And before the night fall

I would be holding your hand.


But I rather be the nightingale

And put you to sleep in the evening

And with my melodies

Wake you up every morning.


Let me be the nightingale

Let me sing for you

Very early every evening

And before the morning dew.













NEW CONSTELLATION





I listened when you said:

- "Oh Pegasus...winged ... we summon thee.”

Yes Athena… Give me the golden bridle... 

And like Bellerophon, I will fight any Chimera.

Together we will reach the zenith.

And if the human mortals do not understand...

The reason for this supplication,

Do not cry… 

We will leave the land… 

For you, I will try once more to reach heaven.

If we do not succeed,

And I become lame, full of scars, 

Zeus will move the stars,

And in the sky

He will make room for a new constellation.

















ZEPHYR





If you see the branches of the hemlock

Swaying in the afternoon,

Or the graceful dance of the glossy leaves 

And the pink cup-shaped flowers

Of the mountain laurel in the morning,

It is not the storm approaching…

Open your arms...close your eyes… 

You'll feel the amain breeze

Surrounding your entire body

In a close embrace.

And in defiance of gravity,

By a kiss of Zephyr,

And by God’s grace,

To the highest mountain

Transported you'll be.

Our mountain...of dreams.                   
















MOUNTAIN OF DREAMS





On a mountain of dreams 

Above a cloud,

A castle of hope building am I.

Where our love

Will be allowed 

And nobody will see us cry.


When our lips kill the pain,

What eyes drink desire

Will come from heaven

In form of rain,

Tears of blessing

For hearts on fire.


In this world insane

I do not want ever

To hear, to more screams

I would climb again 

And live forever 

On our mountain of dreams.













VISION





In your arms…

Resting my head on the soft pillow of your chest,

I fell asleep to the celestial music of your heart.


And, like a child, I dreamed…


I could hear the sound of the trumpets

Coming from Heaven.

The choir of Angels 

Filled all the corners of the Universe.


Happy tears rolled down my face.

As you dried them

With your aurous hair,

I woke up.

Your smiling eyes looked at me 

And your lips said:

- "Enter…

Open are the gates of "Paraíso".



                        
















I AM NOT A POET





I write verses…

I transmit to the paper what I think,

What I feel and what I see.

It can be an early morning song of the blue jay

Or augury hoots of the night owl,

The opening of the morning glories at dawn

Or the closing of the poppies at dusk…

It can be the crystalline water of a spring 

Contouring the naked beauty of a queen

In the flourish garden of a palace,

Or the running water of a creek 

Reflecting the innocence of a country girl…

Or the warmth of a ray of Sun in a bright day,

Following a tenuous moon in a sinister night.

The reality of a dream 

Or the everyday lies…

The inebriating perfume of a rose

Or the pestilent smell of society

I am not a poet…

I write verses.















CURVATURE OF TIME






Side by side …

Traveling through space,

We look at each other.

Defying the laws of geometry,

We try to narrow our lane of separation.

Cursing the force 

That keeps the strength of our parallelism

We rupture the circle of our imagination,

In the hope that someday we'll touch.

Envying all the other geometric figures and lines,

We come to the conclusion 

That our vertices can only be found,

If we are projected through infinity

And encounter the curvature of time.



















LET FRIENDSHIP LIVE





Let your hand be touched 

By another whose fingers pain feel too.

Let our tears moisten the ground 

And give life to the rose on that mountain.

Forever it will be grateful for the mist

That kills its thirst.

Give it a moment of hope…

Feel the pulsating of the blood 

On your fingertips.

Destroy the fountain, 

And the room if you have too.

Burn the imaginary bed and the satin sheets.

Dismiss the sentinel.

Dethrone the queen, kill the muse, forget the poet

But, let friendship live...
















I AM GUILTY





At the entrance of a room with no walls,

Armed with the sword of honesty…

Protected by the shield of loyalty

Always ready to answer when she calls.


Day and night will be there the sentinel. 

Monolith of dreams! Wishes of reality.

Guarding from himself her majesty…

In a fortified and invulnerable citadel.


Forgive me queen if wishing is a crime,

And if by looking, death deserve I.

Feel no sorrow and for me have no pity.


To the scaffold by myself I will climb.

I'll accept the sentence and when I die,

I'll forgive you because I'm guilty.

















A FRIENDLY DROP OF WATER





Coming from the cold shower, 

Stayed for a moment on your golden hair,

Touched the corner of your eye 

And felt paralyzed by the sweetness of your lips.

By contouring the beauty of your breasts,

Felt the electric palpitations of your heart.

As it was being tempted 

By the softness of your womb,

Took a detour and changed its path…

Dropping at your feet, looked up and said:

- "Thank you…

I was cold and you warmed me up.

I will not end up at the bottom of the bay.

Being evaporated by the Sun 

Condensed by the coldness of the sky,

And becoming rain again,

I'll dance for you on the colors of the rainbow

And once more make the same journey.

















PENSIVE LADY





Gorge of dreams…

Rock of wishes…

Water running by on an eternal voyage.

Images reflected on the surface,

Kissing each other with the undulation.

Breathless chest aspiring for love,

Caught in the moment … of a glowing reflection.

Dry lips in a cold morning,

Quenching the thirst with the imagination…

Warm heart worships the Sun.

With hot desire and feverish thrill.

Pensive lady…

Asking for the water never to run

Hence the images would stand still.















SWEET PAIN





In a cabinet, on the corner of a shelf,

Acquiescently stood a full bottle.

Underneath, a crystal glass,

Danced to the sound of its own vibrations.

Enthralled by the elegance of the waltz,

And the romantic steps of the tango,

The bottle moved.

Defying the laws of gravity,

The glass in an inviting gesture,

Danced along the edge.

The contents of the bottle,

Expending with the excitement,

Made the cork pop.

In a total demonstration of equilibrium    

Like acrobats on a high wire,

The glass moved closer to the edge.


The bottle dangerously tilting its body,

Poured into it.

Empty pleasure…

Full delight…

Lost equilibrium…

Deadly fall…

Shattered glass… 

Broken bottle…

Crying spills…

Happy tears…

Sweet pain…!









OPEN BOOK . . . BLANK PAGES !





Open book...blank pages!


Words written in the wind…

Letters mixed up by the movement of the air

As you turn each page.

Sentences completely out of place.

Illusions, dreams, anxiety.

Lessons to be learned 

In another chapter of life…


Open book… blank pages!


Written with the smiles of happiness

And tears of sorrow.

If the Sun does not shine today

There is always tomorrow.


Open book... blank pages!


So much written, more to write,

Much more to learn.

In an open book with blank pages…













EMBRACING BODIES






Following the entwined dancing shadows,

Emerging from the flickering of the candlelight,

On the intricate hand embroidery

Of the Madeira cloth,

Inebriated by the transparent purity of the Baccarat,

Don Perignon with a gesture of chivalry,

Took its hat off, bowed and said:

- "May I...?"

Blushing...reflecting the roses on the table

And the uniqueness sparkling of the Buccellati,

The goblet answer:

- " I'll be honored"

Caressing the walls of the crystal 

With its bottled feelings,

Theirs souls floated in the air bubbles,

On a transcendental climax,

Emanated from the energy 

Of two embracing bodies.












SILHOUETTES





Sitting on the fountain's parapet,

Disrobed from her royalty,

The queen invites the sentinel to join her.

Timorously like a child 

Who experiences the first steps,

And abiding as a loyal soldier,

He complies…

As the moonlight shines 

Their silhouettes are mirrored on the surface of the water.

The queen immersing her hands,

Tries to capture the images of so many thoughts… 

The incomplete dreams of so many nights,

In the hope to fulfill the hollowness of her desires.

Magnetized by invisible force,

The silhouettes came to life.

Theirs arms embraced. 

The piquancy of their lips was no longer a secret.

As they swam away in a concentric spiral,

Delving the earnestness of their recondite love,

An happy and gratified queen said:
- Good night my sentinel…

He replied:

- Sweet dreams my lovely queen.











DESNUDAS LÁGRIMAS





Desnudas lágrimas, from ocean green eyes.

Uncovered secrets to nobody ever told.

Touchless touching of wishes running through...

Tossed crown into an ocean full of cries

Broken sward of a sentinel no longer needed.

Disobeyed commands of a queen... 

Golden heart, hard to follow.

Closed chapter of an unwritten book... 

Tasty truth from freshly squeezed lies...

Common interests, common desires, common ground

Vivid images of pictures never taken.

Desnudas lágrimas... lost horizon suddenly found. 

Happy songs of a memorable trip.

Desnudas lágrimas... spell bound

To the mountain of an eternal friendship.


















HAPPY CRY 





Accepting the invitation of an open door,

The blue bird left its cage.

Perched on a chandelier, which candles will never light.

Enter a one-room house by nature built.

Through the chimney of forbidden fires

Gave wings to its desires.

Looked at the waves and a distant horizon.

Flew over the mountain, descended to shore.

Harvested new fields and wanted more.

Drank water from a different spring

And with joy started to sing.

When recognized it could still fly

Savored the moment of a happy cry... 






















FOREVER KEPT 





Restless nights..., tears of guilt?

Promises made. Hard to keep.

Betray a friend? I rather die…

Speak aloud? That won't I.

I'll go to the mountain and talk to the wind.

I'll go to the beach and with my hand

Your eternal secret I will write on the sand.

Kissed by the waves slowly will go.

That way nobody will know.

Forever kept it will be 

In the silence of a deep sea.

















LOYALTY





I'll brew the poison and drink the whole pot,

If an Iago ambiguous villain you think of me.

Let my eyes light again never see

For faithful Desdemona, lady, are you not!


There was no crime! No need for alibis

Nor dreams transformed… pure reality. 

Only friendship and loyalty…

No room for intrigue, no place for lies.


Phantasmagoric Othello will have I to fight?! 

Do not change the course of your plight.

In his place will always be there, the sentinel.


For the crown, the queen’s honor and her sake, 

I'll die and all my promises will brake

Even if my soul forever burns in hell.




















X, Y and Z





Mathematical variables of a day’s life.

Combined with numbers…difficult to find... 

Twists and turns of the mind,

in a total esoteric conspiracy.

Unfounded reasons of jealousy?

In searching for the infinite "π"

I was so blind that I could not see…

Oh my! Oh my! 

Sometimes the "Z"

In real life appears before the "Y"





 


















VERDANT FUCHSIA





Alone with my thoughts,

I try to retrieve images of a past

Unclear vision of eternal moments 

Involved by patches of condensed fog on thirsty lips.

Grain of sand lost in the dunes of the Soul.

Shooting star on the universe of my dreams.

Even if you dry my spring... 

Or I cry the last tear that will let you live.

Don't ever let another gardener water you…

Verdant fuchsia...! 























CHRYSOGONIA





Sustained by two moving pillars,

Inverted first wonder of the world,

Coffer of secrets, box of surprises,

Source of conflicts… 

Reason of truce… 

Sweet orange blossom honey,

Deadly bitter cowbane,

Clear spring of crystalline water,

Cryptic fountain of champagne,

Entrance and exit of life…

Glowing pleasure... forgotten pain!

Mystical fortress of one's suspires.

Embouchure of a melodious fife,

Extinguisher of a man's fires.
















DIVIDED SOUL





I was born in the middle of the ocean

In a land of heroes and braves.

I can still hear and feel the motion,

Of the big blue Atlantic waves.


By gusts of wind thrown across the sea,

Like a rocket traveling through space,

I arrived at the land of liberty

And sometimes felt out of place.


So many days I wished I were near,

The Island where I was before.

Sometimes I feel I should not be here,

But I do not belong there anymore.



The limpid blue ocean forget will I never,

It is so different opaque and cold this sea.

My body here… my mind there. Forever

A divided Soul I will always be.


















JOURNEY OF MINDS





Through the valleys and over the mountains...

Hand in hand we'll go together,

Our thoughts one, our souls bonded.

Supporting each other in moments of weakness...

We will cross the rocky trails,

We will move the boulders blocking our way... 

If we have, too, we'll change destiny... 

We'll transform a dream in reality... 

We have the power... we have the courage.

Respecting each other, we will not sway.

Sojourning in life, I will not go away

Sitting by each other, we are here to stay,

Guiding each other, 

In our journey.


















THE TOUCH OF A KEY





Hidden tears dribbling into my heart.

Unforgettable moments…

I will treasure and remember them all.

Steps of the life's ladder.

The higher you climb, the bigger is the fall.

With sadness... I will retire.

In a corner of the room a bag of memories.

I do not know what to do or to say... 

Whenever you need me,

I will always be

As close as 

The touch of a key...






















LET US FRIENDS FOREVER STAY  





With my own words I built the fire

Where my heart was left to burn.

Now the flames are getting higher…

I see the point of no return.


Silently crying, I will sojourn,

Once the flames have all expired…

How can someone now spurn

The Love that once aspired?


Forgiven each other...Should we?

For the things we did not say...

If together we ever see, 

The light of a new day

If lovers we can not be 

Let us friends forever stay…
















AFTER TASTE





Retrieve the crown, restore the kingdom.

Bring the Queen back to the throne.

Weld the sword and repair the shield.

Do not leave your station anymore.

Be a faithful and loyal sentinel… 

Open your thoughts to the mental images.

Silently dream as you did before.

You are not the king…

You flew too high, too far and too fast.

With adopted wings, 

You traversed unknown skies.

You lost yourself in a forest with no trees.

Now your soul aches. Your heart bleeds.

Forget the pain…treasure a friend.

If it ever comes back fantasy,

Remember... you are a peasant …

Drink the wine without opening the bottle…

That way you will never experience

The sweetness of an after taste. 









         





GOLDEN ANGEL





You did not have the chance

To see the smiles and cries of this world.

Golden Angel…

You did not have the occasion 

To see the imperfections that some of us have.

To inhale the miasma of society.

Golden Angel…

You left before you arrived! 

Sitting with God,

You are also with the one that on earth loves you.

You are next to her pillow when she goes to sleep.

Your soft feet touched her heart,

Leaving the footprints of Love,

Only felt and by mothers understood.

In the morning you are the rising Sun

Giving light to a new day

And vigor to the variegated colors 

Of the drooping fuchsia flowers.

Golden Angel…

You will never be forgotten.












BUBBLE IN TIME





From the nothing... 

In the soap dish of our fantasies,

With the exhalation of our sighs

It grew...

Reflecting all the beauty around itself,

It kept growing.

It grew so much that we did not notice 

We were being enveloped by it.

Fueled by the love and friendship,

Levitated…

Agitated by the breeze,

Traveled across rivers, oceans and mountains.

Pierced by un-verbalized words,

Broke in two.

Side by side they continue the journey.

The magnetic force made them touch.

They connected.

There is a transparent barrier between them.

Too many un-verbalized words.

Too many misunderstandings.

Separately together they will continue…

Will that barrier ever brake,

And the bubbles be one again?

Only God knows.










THE FRIEND I LOST? OR THE FRIEND I NEVER HAD?





What am I going to write about?

The friend I lost?

Or the friend I never had?

How many times should a friend forgive a friend?

Or how many times does a friend, by a friend is insulted?

But, if a friend is a friend, is there anything to forgive?

When is an insult really an insult?

When insulting a friend a friend is?

Or when by a friend insulted a friend feels?

What is a friend?

I beg for forgiveness 

If insulting was I.

And if forgive can you not,

I do not deserve to live.

Let me die… 

Who is a friend?

Where is a friend?

What did I write about?

The friend I lost?

Or the friend I never had? 
















THE TRUE ONE





I have been looking in places far away.

Strange lands...distant minds.

Under the rocks...above the clouds.

In dreams, nightmares and fantasies.

On bright daylight.

In the darkness of the night.

Within myself.

I have been searching 

For something I always had and never realized… 

I have been seeking for non-existent horizons…

It was always so close and I could not see it.

I had to lose the one I gained,

To find the other I always had.

The true one... 
























EXPIRING FLAME






Stretching my hand into the emptiness...

I hear the silence in the vacuum

Of my surroundings... 

In the darkness of the abyss,

Crying for help… 

Carrying on my shoulders 

The tremendous weight of nothing,

My knees bend... 

In my hearth...a lost tear... 

And the bitter taste of indifference

Replaces the coldness

Of an expiring flame.










THE DEATH OF THE FUCHSIA



In the morning. Midday... in the afternoon,

In the evening...at night.

Every hour... every moment,

I poured my love over its leaves.

Never paid attention to the reaction

Or the warning of its scorched wounds 

Caused by my ardent incessant flames. 

Never listen to the words of botanical experts... 

It was my verdant fuchsia... 

I knew better than anybody else... 

I knew everything...!

Innocuously thinking! Was I!

So many times its beautiful flowers spoke to me.

I never listen...

The more the fuchsia was sinking, the more I poured... 

Purblind gardener I am...

One afternoon,

As I was pouring my love, 

I heard its death scream... 

- Goodbye.

I had killed my fuchsia...

I know I will never have it again

Hearty and colorful as it was.

I will cry on its grave...

In the morning, midday...In the afternoon.

In the evening... at night.

Every hour and every moment of my painful existence.

And I sincerely hope that the mist of my tears

Will make one of its seeds germinate

So at least I may have the opportunity 

To admire its beauty once again

And be forgiven…








NOW I CRY EVERYDAY






I made you cry a couple times.

I said I was sorry and I felt it.

It was not enough... 

My ignorance and my imbecility 

Made you cry for the third time.

I pushed you over the boiling point... 

And, was scalded with the same drops of water

Which once had quenched my thirst.

I was not there to see your tears.

My apologies? You did not believe them.

How could you...?

Thin cloud of smoke that I hate so much 

And would give everything to hold.

My Soul will always have the burned scars of my mistakes.

Non-erasable white characters 

On the black board of my life.

As I said before,

I do not know what to do or what to say.

I made you cry...three times?

Now I cry everyday.
















A GRAIN OF SAND






He who loves flowers 

And plants no seeds,

Can harvest the colors of the wind.

He who loves music 

And plays no songs,

Can listen to the raindrops

Strumming the strings of the rainbow.

He who walks alone

Can have the sound of the waves 

For company

He who's lost at sea,

Anxious for dry land,

Can find happiness 

On a grain of sand...

















QUEST 





For each digit that changed

On the space age clock,

There was another second lost 

On the countdown of my life... 

I wasted so much time searching... 

For the unknown 

And the intangible source of nothing...

For the beginning of the beginnings,

The source of all sources,

The cause of all causes

The force of all forces,

That I saw the endings.

When not looking for me I was,

Feeble, exhausted

Overpowered by my own strength

And conquered by my own weakness,

Myself I found.

Gone? Lost?

Not yet...

I am still breathing, still thinking... 

"Therefore I am"

I still have life left. Still have the courage.

The force and the will

To find YOU.












DEAMBULATION 




In a moment of passion I gave you my soul 

Expecting nothing in return.

Just wanted a shoulder to cry on in secrecy...

I emptied its amalgamated contents  

And put my life in your hands.

Like the little boy  

Who feels happy,

Playing with his boat on the stream,

I felt joy.

I did not see the storm approaching 

And the rising of the waters.

When I tried to retrieve it,

It was too late...

And I cried... 

Taken by strong winds

I saw it vanish on the horizon.

Like the boat,

I am  

An uncontrolled body in deambulation... 












SEND IT BACK





I gave it to you...

I believe you have it...

Perhaps not intact the way it was before.

It is possible that during the voyage,

The friction of love may have damaged its shield.

Parts of it may be floating around,

In the asteroid belt of our galaxy.

You may find at least some sparks of light

Produced by the collision of our minds,

Traveling throughout the universe

Mingled with other stars... 

Nobody else can find it...

You know…

It may be in more than a million pieces,

Or full of scars.

Please...

Even if you have to make the voyage in return,

Search for it...

I don't have it...

When you find all those pieces,

Put them together.

You can keep the memories...

But, my soul,

Please send it back.








IT WILL BE TOO LATE  





The day I die... 

Do not waste any boards

That could provide shelter to a homeless...

Do not waste any fabric

That could cover some naked child... 

Do not take any land

Which can produce a meal 

For some hungry brother...

Let the fire 

Which cannot purify the soul... 

Turn my body into ashes.

Do not keep them... 

Go to the top of the mountain

And wait for the wind.

And as it comes, 

Let them go in spirals 

Across the mountains and the valleys.

When and if the wind blows,

In a soft breeze or in the fury

Of the storm,

If you miss me,

Come to the window 

And you will hear me passing by...  

I will caress your face 

And kiss your lips… 


The day I die... 

Do not pray for me!

It will be too late… 




THE LAST PAGE









I believe many writers, upon finishing their books, would add, if they could, another page to their work. I am delighted that I was able to add that page before sending this work to the printer.


Some of the poems I wrote were inspired by different people, for whom I deeply care, others by situations in which I was and still am Tangled.


No book is complete without its cover... I thought about it, I dreamed about it, I had nightmares about it, and, one day, as I was saying goodbye to some "friends" on the Internet, this person, named "Suz", sent me this private message "Don't leave without talking to me".


That was translated in my brain, at that moment, as an order, but interpreted by my heart as a plea. And I stayed on.  "Suz", Susan Jane Eyre Wieringa, from Grand Rapids, Michigan, and I became friends; I told her about my poems, she told me about her paintings. She offered to paint the cover for my book. And when I suggested the Lakes of "Sete Cidades" in the Island of São Miguel, in the Azores, and the olden Gate Bridge", in San Francisco, in the same painting she said  "Consider it done."



















From our Internet and telephone conversations, and by the hands of this great artist, was created the cover of my book and the painting, which is hanging in my living room.  Susan, indeed, wrote the best poem of my book, a vivid picture of what is an immigrant's soul. 


She expressed with her brush strokes what I could never paint with my poems. To Susan, heartfelt thanks from a deeply Tangled soul.







The author





INDEX 



A friendly drop of water   95

A grain of sand 120

A morning dream   47

A rose for King   41

After taste 112

All for you my wife   57

Bird's flight     60

Bitter drink   34  

Broken heart     50

Bubble in time 114

Captivated   73

Chrysogonia 107

Curvature of time   92

Darla's eyes   82

Deambulation 122

Desnudas lágrimas 101

Divided Soul 108

Don't cry   65

Drinks   33

Early bird   52

Ego   32

Embracing bodies   99

Expiring flame 117

Eternal Love   74

Flame of desire   59

Forever kept 103

Forgive me muse   68

Give me   31

Go away black bird   70

Golden Angel 113

Happy cry 102

I am guilty   94

I am not a poet   91







I will be there   80

If I could   14

Imaginary loves   69

Impossible love   64

Is there oil in Timor?!   38

It will be me   23

It will be too late 124

It's not always good   20

Journey of minds 109

Kill the silence   16

Lay down the arms   37

Let friendship live   93

Let me dream   55

Let the world sing   83

Let us friends forever stay 111

Longing   12

Looking for love   67

Love lesson   76

Loyalty 104

Magic hands   71

Megan's eyes   43

Minds   18

Mountain of dreams   89

My fault?!   81

New boat   53

New constellation   87

New hope   51

Nightingale   86

Now I cry every day 119

On the wings of the wind   25

Only my poems   85

Open book . . . blank pages   98

Pensive Lady   96







Philosophical reality   26

Pray for the living   27

Quest                 121

Rejection   48

Second coming   28

Send it back 123

She is a poem   56

Silence   15

Silent cries   75

Silhouettes 100

Song of love   62

Sweet pain   97

Tangled   11

Tear of joy   61

Tender orchid   79

Thank you   17

Thanks, Soy   44

The death of the fuchsia 118

The friend I lost 115

The Last Page 126

The other side of me   21

The touch of a key 110

The true one 116

The yellow rose of Texas   66

They need You on earth   30

To Carla   40

To Karen Valentine   39

To my father   13

To Polly   35

To someone who   22

Together   58

Tricks of the mind   19

Troubled flight   42

Unless You are at the end of it   29

Untitled   54





Vanquished warrior   78

Verdant fuchsia 106

Vision   90

Voice in the wind   77

Welcome to California   63

What a sin!   46

What people do   72

Who taught the birds how to read music?   84

Why?   36

X,Y and Z 105

Yesterday   24

Zephyr   88




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