Crawlin forth up rivers
hungry for moments
spoiled dreams
that roam
Trees in chemichal
unbalance.
scorched by waters
of chemichal bothers
dwellin’in favor of gods
yet to mystify

 

woke up  longing from the dream

on top of the island

sun’s breathing,

glooming
lit up moon.

from the summit, high air,
gulls and terns dive
gliding over-sea.

waving love
i see you leaving

go,
kneel to the golden dawn
clarity of the day, fall.
gull low flight’s
effortless, dodge.

flasks of guesses,

over empty tables

distressed whispers

in turmoil, howled screams

are silenced forever.

 

in honor, a mess…

imprisoned fear.

stuck, the body trapped itself

spilling burst of beauty

where

 

sun

 

…

heart closed.

flirts with sorrow

the young man’s hungry mouth

ducked in its flawed wisdom.

 

drunk

the waterless fountain

in the mist of night

paulobicudo

(on Monday, March 28, 2011)

infinity lays dead

at the back of my eyes.

Entering them, dark light

unveils curved body,

folded in itself.

 

Sparkled, black and white

locked and screaming.

Trapped soul,

painful add,

to mine.

 

Green living mysteries

look down on me.

some standing, faithfully,

pledge to honor life.

Others, seing me,

refused, wicked side.

 

Denied here, there,

the mantle, undead

walks to find

what can’t be found.

Around?

paulobicudo

Azores

The following poem is by the late American poet John Updike. Originally published on Harper’s Magazine (January 1964, p37) also reprinted in Midpoint and Other Poems (1969).

 

 

Great green ships

themselves, they ride

at anchor forever;

beneath the tide

 

huge roots of lava

hold them fast

in mid-Atlantic

to the past.

 

with cottages

(confetti) and

sweet lozenges

of chocolate (land).

 

They marvel at

the dainty fields

and terraces

hand-tilled to yield

 

the modest fruits

of vines and trees

imported by

the Portuguese;

 

a rural landscape

set adrift

from centuries ago;

the rift

 

enlarges.

The ship proceeds,

Again the constant

music feeds

 

an emptiness astern,

Azores gone.

The void behind, the void

ahead are one.

 

John Updike

water shaped goddess stands salty,
freshly swam into welcoming hand.
wandering and circling, round dance.
open seas offered, mother, prayer…

in its infinity, blue urges me to go,
from a mysterious passing gaze
a deeper, under water maze,
flutter, dimensionless glow.

swirl and twist happily
elegant turning eye.

interact, behold the shine of our creatures,
breathe, lungs and tongue surrendering.
stretched arms flowing, chaotic dew,
quenching river’s the trail of kiss.

hands firmly steering soft skin
squeezing hard please,
touch, heating,
heart pump.

eyes closed,
breeze muted,
lips and hands
graspingly waiting

ferly, the eternal flow

Liberating, Screams!

paused in awe.
echo surrounding,

dimensions are made new,
the ready now, begins.
and I, merely wish, slowly
unwitting skies and sins

…

paulobicudo

…summersight roam

frightened home

in shattering groove

settles beside a despair

,

erupting screams,

as sorceress arises.

unopposed, unarmed

Still, she hits hard

.

digging bitter daymares

journey to one soul’s past

laying carefully with a smile

curving ways of time in itself,

enter pathless exile, prison

.

mouthful, blood

sluggish grudge,

soaked liver

.

As night’s cold love bringer,

she escapes broken heart

enters violently,

open door.

.

spine erected tends to curve my eye,

horizon is endless wilderness,

glowing under soft light.

 bright loose hart

.

… … …

… …

…

.

.

…

… … …

reaches wait

mirrors’n water

ship sank long ago

no vessel, out of bridge

tiller’s fasten. Some souls have

vanished from the blue, violent winds

tearing our hearts, only to be read…thought

fumbling and rolling to shore’s scars

ravage sails blow out wind

breath length of

buried kiss

missed

…

.

  .         .                   .       .

.          .            .          .           .

Seams the blanket of night

is in her broadsheet eyes,

spacious warm home.

universal tears

fall apart

melting

figure

out

paulobicudo

So, the obvious establishing post has to be one that talks of the islands, for i’m living amongst strange and joyful people in front of the great volcanic Pico.

I wrote this the day i returned to Faial after a long harsh time in Lisbon, I was rapt in awe, the colors stunned and inspired me, still, cold winds would arise from the distance.

.:

today, the greenest pearl shine’th into meye-ai

Oh sun, hiding in an excess of light,

blank white watering-bluest shine.

troubbleblinding even the darkest eye.

In a twist of wind out comes the snow, and in a fireside,

ashes turn to the mountain, slowly dancing.

Leaf of black , whirling smoke. calls upon,

Mistress earth, bailed out.

to us, those who care,

freedom in a glass of hope.

Cascade of returning misty fade.

Oh fiery mountain chant! oh high!

in a note, cruising seas,

under undoubtedly-bees

running from wolfs,

thirsty scavengers of man,

in misery-of…oh-me.

Drowning Ees over Cs

Shine upon thees as upon mees.

In lonely mornings and tired famine skys

shine the flame of heaven, till stone crystal-melting,

emeralding eye, blooms as if a flood, would blissfully

stop

 paulobicudo