Pages 51 to 60

Let me frown to you my shadow

Let me frown to you my shadow
When you are a smirk of blurry light
Give me a black pitch one as it can be
Invisible to my eyes but pure and clean in my heart

Am I sucking the life out of you

Am I sucking the life out of you
The bloodless vampire of one's heart
Innocent dove, innocent virgin?

Or

Are you the last gasp of a pheasant's life
A timetable, over looking discarded lives
Two, three men, twisted in chaste souls?

Power of redemption! I shout
Bring her power free falling down . . .

From Heaven to Earth
From Earth to Hell
From Witch to Woman

My heart's now artic-cold every dawn

My heart's now artic-cold every dawn
Even the very last forgotten morning dew
Could not set it alight as before

My heart's a piece of a rib left behind
Rejected by butcher's, shepherd's dogs
When long before it was made of golden hopes

My heart's fuming dark deeds as you suffer
Torn apart in flames of hell or chants of paradise
Even when you were only just a friend

My heart's new in hope, old in supplication
An antique piece of jaded jewellery
Crying, eyes closed, for eternal forgotten peace . . .

But how if it feeds from other hearts?

Gosh!

Make my day son of nature
How come you wake me up feeling this great
Soldier of the universe?

How can I fight you
When you sooth my heart with your splendour
A dream of sunny white
And the suave pink of your mostly earthly skin?

She

She
So modern, so it, so woman
Not behind silent walls
Tearing dry tears
She is only a learning heart
So she is
Vertical in her shadows
Beautiful in her light
Plunging into a new future
No medals, only a new life
Still
The same woman
Whole
In any shallow or deep bliss

Smile my love . . .

Cry my love
Cry
Let pass days of horror
Days of sorrow
Cry my love
Let your heart cast a dice
A face seeking mine
A soul bordering darkness
Be high and bold my love
Smile
Days of hope
Days of joy
Smile my love . . .

For your child . . . healing a lump with a smile

Knock . . . Knock . . . woodpecker . . . Knock . . . knock

The sound pricks my nose and I look up to see . . .
It is a bird with a clock . . . jumping . . . happy . . . on one leg . . .
And one eye in a feather . . . the other one in a wink . . . What a show off . . .

Tease, tease my boy . . . and he did, the left wing pointing down to me

I say, showing my palm,

"Stop the clock or I will pin your wings with a peg!"

And more,

"Stop the clock or I will lock your heart in a small dot!"

But the bird raced me, caught my little finger and put me on one knee

Angry . . . electrified . . . shocked . . . I shout,

"Stop, stop, I give up . . . I beg . . ."

And this is what happened . . . my friend . . . It was

A knock
That made me see
A bird on one leg

He was showing off . . .
It was bad of me
Trying to stop him with a peg

Wishing his heart in a dot
But instead, he put me on a knee
And I had to beg . . .


Please, no . . .
Not the knot,
Or I have to flee and hide under my bumpy horrible little bed . . .

(This poem had the collaboration of Elizabeth of Greenwich, the child's mother)

Homeless

1969
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Sad and ill
I'm paying with my life
I still feel in my guts
The rotten mould of my last meal









A translation of a poem (Luanda, Angola - 1969)



Triste e doente
Pago com a vida
Inda sinto no ventre
O bolor da comida . . .

Sorrow

Sorrow for art?
No, a poet in your arms . . .

How can I paint

How can I paint
When all I have around me
Is your perfume
The sweetness of your lips
And my eyes closed seeing you?