Poetry

  • Poesia,  Poetry,  Traduções,  Translating,  Translations

    José Tolentino Mendonça – three poems in translation

    José Tolentino Mendonça (n. 1965) is one of the most original voices of Portuguese contemporary literature. He is also an Archivist and Librarian at the Vatican Library. Freesias José Tolentino Mendonça translated by paulo da costa ( Published in Matrix n. 60 – 2001 ) Freesias are flowers smelling of tea and she, at thirty seven, prefers them to the flowers sold everywhere she conceded the beauty yet not the splendour because repetitions are sad suddenly become ways of knowing and she, at thirty-seven, simply held dear the secrets which though revealed remain secrets (in certain seasons, through some forgotten door she escaped, sleep-walking, into the courtyard leading to the woods…

  • Blog,  News,  Poetry

    The Edge of Winter Exhibition – Art Walk

    This Saturday, if you happen to be in the vicinity of the Crescent Heights area, and wish to enjoy a stroll in the Rotary Park, please join us on an art walk. We will be viewing and performing the work of Calgary writers and artists on display. On of my poems is featured, as well as the written words and art work of five other Calgarians listed below. The Edge of Winter Exhibition – Art WalkApril 15, 2023Saturday, 1:00pm-230pm MTRotary Park, 617 1St NE, Calgary, AB(This link shows the parking lot at the venue: https://goo.gl/maps/vRgEtetajXBUBUi16) A walk along the gallery route, stopping at each of the six gallery displays. The…

  • Blog,  News,  Poesia,  Poetry,  Português

    Poema na Bienal Internacional de Poesia de Oeiras

    No âmbito da Bienal Internacional de Poesia de Oeiras a decorrer de 16 a 21 de Novembro 2021 aqui está a declamação de um dos meus poemas.   https://youtu.be/bYchvlt0LkM https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bYchvlt0LkM  

  • News,  Poetry

    to be portuguese

        to be portuguese   is to be born with the fado around your neck to live with your eyes anchored to the open sea, longing for the outgoing tide or for its incoming wave   living canned up between the sea and spain exporting sardines   going to mass and forgetting the sermon it’s confessing to friends with a bottle in your hand   and not making waves the ones that stir up the sea are enough   praying for peace admiring fátima and batalha in the same holy visit   to be portuguese is to love your car more than yourself and find it more affordable  …

  • Blog,  Poetry

    Atlantis – sang by Nancy Dutra

    Talented Canadian singer Nancy Dutra has put to music one of my English poems from The Book of Water. Nancy has a distinctive and powerful voice that will delight any listener. Take a peek at this music video recorded under a Dragon Tree in Pico, Azores during the 2013 AzoresFringe Festival. And stay tuned for future collaborations between myself and Nancy. A talentosa cantora canadiana Nancy Dutra musicou e interpretou um dos meus poemas em língua inglesa e do meu manuscrito: The Book of Water. A Nancy tem uma voz marcante e poderosa que irá encantar qualquer ouvinte. Aproveitem para dar uma olhada neste vídeo  gravado sob uma árvore Dragão…

  • Poetry

    inevitable step

        inevitable step     young tiko’s dreams scatter to pieces, hang from the baobab tree,   a boom of a thousand drums in the imagined luanda’s stadium where tiko’s feet, swift as birds, chased a soccer ball of rags   gravel, grass and cloth burrow in tiko’s stump   in the boot of europe, a church-going father designs devices in explosive greens and sands, calls them butterflies, toys gliding to the ground in the thousands. his sister quit valsella last month and greets him with a banner at the end of the day   home at night, in the undermining silence, missing another goodnight kiss, the father clings…

  • Poetry

    Rainbow Moon

    14: a purple thistle sways in the heat a tide of granite inundates the valley wheels and wheels of stone encircle your musing body a small fire eats your dark thoughts jingle of bells cows and bulls trespass your prayers your smile cracks the stern boulder clouds open there is radiance in a mere glance your hands carry warm ashes of dark thoughts buried with the gentleness of slow gestures everything about you glows, eyes older than skin exquisite, twigs in the tiny stone circle speak a language i dare not ask

  • Poetry

    Yesterday’s Dream

    * pearls rolled the backs of geese, decorated nested wings. round pearls. clear. impossible. i stopped. rain did not. geese ruffled. pearls swept, seedling rain, planted in clouds. pearls bounced from nose to lip, to grass. pearls do not stay. greener places to see, to wet. hardly a soul by the river willing to feel how a river feels. except the woman. she smiled. we agreed the world was missing. i walked. a jewel of a time. i imagined dancing with you outside the sagging cabin. water. inside, outside the skin. i here, you there. i did not promise you tomorrow. i did not shake the words, forever. words surrounding…

  • Poetry

    a foot in two worlds

    a foot in two worlds     on south terraced slopes vineyards rose in awnings of foliage feet lifted me up ten-foot ladders through green nearer the divine fingers easily pinched the dangling blue thirsty skin touched every soft fruit of the earth but not tin or plastic heels digging into grapes it was love stomping through the eve in granite vats tannin tingling skin before bed before blowing out the candle the blood of christ on my lips then hers   ©1998paulodacosta