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,
running from wolfs,
thirsty scavengers of man,
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