Latest Entries »

Trick me

Trick me

Tip me

Lick me

Lip me

Vip me

Nip me

Cheat me

Leave me

Fill me



circling the circle of the cyclist
rounding the round of the roundabout
lining the line of the lining
mind you
rounding the round of the roundabout
circling the circle of the cyclist



swift response embracing water, swimming and flowing over the blue, drastic answer of speed diligence, fast and furious, verging the margin of rage of decadency, of the craziness of the fulfilling hour of sounds, resembling the emergency of sirens, sworn to be deadly swift.


My way

My way is silent

Under oak trees

My way is honest

Over many graves

My way is solitary

Together with dogs, cats

My way is different

I’m not one of you

My way is full

Of stones and fire

Let me say this way



I-got-connected at

the sight-of-you with

the myriad-stellar-words

sent-through the web-changing-lives in a

golden-minute of our rainbow-like-conversation.


Let us go then

Let us go then, you and I,

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherized upon a table;

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

The muttering retreats

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent

To lead you to an overwhelming question …

Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”

Let us go and make our visit.

Taken from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock


We are going, I and you,

When the morning is pressed against the sea

Like ship wandering on the horizon

Let us go through half-deserted beaches

Searching for ancient pebbles

The pebbles of confront

Of sky open nights

Insidious with fright

Crying mischievous laments

Of indecent intent

To lead you to an overwhelming question…

Oh, do ask, what is it?

Let us go and breathe from a visit


Happiness is yes

Yes I like you

Yes you’re nice

Yes I care

Yes I trust

Yes I’ll go

Yes me too

Happiness is no

No I’m not jealous

No I’m not misleading you

No I don’t dislike you

No I won’t unfriend you


Let us breathe

Tiny tiny minds

Following me

Spinning webs

With thin little fingers

Weaving the net

Ready to catch you

No! To the rapists

No! To the invaders

No! To the eaters


Let me breathe

Look at the sky

Listen to the birds

Scent the smell of the sea


They want to overpower you

Looking from the top of a pseudo-status

But I will overcome

I know I’m nothing

I’m just fed up with this disdain

With your hypocrital education

With your class

Vegetable verbing

Carrot a rabbit

Orange me a juice

I’m strawberrying for dessert

Lettuce my dish, please

Bananaing the yogurt

Vegetableing my life



Gesto de princesa

Na janela das sombras

Ouvem-se gritos

Beija-se escondido

Olha-se grave

Nunca foste nada para além de nada

Um cinzento vulto arrastando-se na praia da tempestade

Um barco encalhado

Uma ave sem penas

Hoje vi dois pássaros estranhos, ao lado da estrada, perdidos, frágeis

Emocionam-me esses pássaros raros no meio da urbanidade

Não são os vulgares pombos ou gaivotas, sim, têm ainda algo de selvagem e, no entanto, estão ali, à beira da estrada, sós, sim, perdidos, frágeis. Amo-os.

Sofro com este assalto à natureza pela civilização. Impressionam-me os glaciares que se desfazem, as florestas que ardem, os cangurus e coalas enfrentando o fogo. Imagino estes animais na floresta que arde, estupefactos, assustados, inocentes.

Gesto de princesa na janela das sombras

Os castelos estão povoados de sonhos, nas vilas do meu país. Sonhos de religiosas com Deus. Sonhos de mães. Expectativas de pais. Aventuras dos filhos da cidade. Sabedoria do pastor solitário.

Beija-se escondido, olha-se grave. Graves são as ternuras dos amantes. A amizade dos cães. Acariciar um gato.

Que vale tudo isto?

Para quê tudo isto?

Para quê tudo isto?


A gesture of a princess

In the window of shadows

Screams are heard

Hidden kisses

A serious look

You were never anything but nothing

A grey figure wandering in the beach of the storm

A stranded boat

A bird without feathers

Today I saw two strange birds, beside the road, lost, fragile

These rare birds move me deeply when I see them in the middle of urbanity

They are not ordinary pigeons or seagulls, yes, they still have something wild and yet they are there, by the road, alone, lost, fragile. I love them.

I suffer from this assault on nature by civilization. I am impressed by the glaciers that are falling apart, the forests that are burning, the kangaroos and koalas facing the fire. I imagine these animals in the forest that burns, stunned, scared, innocent.

A gesture of a princess in the window of shadows

The castles are full of dreams, in the villages of my country. The nun’s dream of God. Mothers’ dreams. Dads’ expectations. Adventures of the children of the city. Wisdom of the lonely shepherd.

Hidden kisses, serious looks. Serious is the tenderness of lovers, the friendship of dogs, to caress a cat.

Is it worth it?

What is all this for?

What is all this for?