Into the nothingness of scorn and noise, Into the living sea of waking dreams, Where there is neither sense of life or joys, But the vast shipwreck of my life’s esteems; Even the dearest that...

There’s a lamentation in the flutter of your lash.

To pray you open your whole selfTo sky, to earth, to sun, to moonTo one whole voice that is youAnd know there is moreThat you can’t see, can’t hearCan’t know except in momentsSteadly growing, and...

Though I love your company, your instructions are wasted her. I will always choose the woman who caries me off, I will always sit with the family of loneliness.

The object of poetic activity is essentially language: whatever his beliefs & convictions, the poet is more concerned with words than what these words designate.

Gretel in Darkness:This is the world we wanted.All who would have seen us deadare dead. I hear the witch’s crybreak in the moonlight through a sheetof sugar: God rewards.Her tongue shrivels into gas….Now, far from...

These dreams are disappearingSpeak and be misunderstood Or be silent and goodand as how far as it lookThese dreams are disappearing..Put hopes in a box and tieIt’s either protect it or dieMaintain the truth or...

When you were sleeping on the sofaI put my ear to your ear and listenedto the echo of your dreams.That is the ocean I want to dive in, merge with the bright fish, plankton and...

Unless you are here: this garden refuses to exist.Pink dragonflies fall from the airand become scorpions scratching blood out of rocks.The rainbows that dangle upon this mist: shatter. Like the smile of a child separatedfrom...

Kretanje je duša svega što drhti.Započinje tako da se prvo dogodi trenutakonima koji žive trenutak,a onda se, onima koji žive vječnost,vječnost nametne kao bolest.

Écoutez le monde blanchorriblement las de son effort immenseses articulations rebelles craquer sous les étoiles duresses raideurs d’acier bleu transperçant la chair mystiqueécoute ses victoires proditoires trompeter ses défaitesécoute aux alibis grandioses son piètre trébuchementPitié...

You hate him for turning you inside of yourself. You are still getting used to looking at your body in the light.

That cloud looks like a fish,and that cloud looks like a fairy!”Do you believe that Mary was really a virgin?Do you believe that Moses really parted the sea?And if you don’t believe in miracles, tell...

I don’t tolerate politics that come from anger. I want a politics derived from beauty… I don’t admire politicians, but poets. (Rubem Alves, p. 189)

Doubt makes faith true

You are only as touched my the magic of this life as you want to be.

Writing is my passion. Words are the way to know ecstasy. Without them life is barren. The poet insists, language is a body of suffering and when you take up language you take up the...

Good morning, daddy!Ain’t you heardThe boogie-woogie rumbleOf a dream deferred?Listen closely:You’ll hear their feetBeating out and beating out a -You thinkIt’s a happy beat?Listen to it closely:Ain’t you heardsomething underneathlike a -What did I say?Sure,I’m...

The poet, therefore, is truly the thief of fire.He is responsible for humanity, for animals even; he will have to make sure his visions can be smelled, fondled, listened to; if what he brings back...

Git’er DoneThey beat their swords upon their shieldsTo no beast or man would they yield

My prayers, my tears, my wishes, fears, and lamentations, were witnessed by myself and heaven alone. When we are harassed by sorrows or anxieties, or long oppressed by any powerful feelings which we must keep...

Come, let us speak with our bodies.Teach me how to please you.I am here to learn.Let us not waste this time.It is the hour of union.ComeAnd after you do,Come again.

The taste of moon’s song.

Look, the treesare turningtheir own bodiesinto pillarsof light,are giving off the richfragrance of cinnamonand fulfillment,the long tapersof cattailsare bursting and floating away overthe blue shouldersof the ponds,and every pond,no matter what itsname is, isnameless now.Every...

Erudition is the crude residue of wilted harvests; wit: the meddlesome weed that wilts them.

Time goes by at the speed of lifeSlower than a slow danceon a hot summer nightFaster than the skin breakson the edge of a knifeAnd we just go on at the speed of life

I want to sleep in the ovenbecause I just burn in the bed.

But tears are an indulgence. Memory sings.

But you hate poetry!Yes, but you make me want to write it.

I can’t love anymore.Except for you…I love you so much it hurts to breathe.

These hands are unlike any otherstrongbut gentlecaringlovingand understanding

Sugar cane reach up to GodAnd every baby cryingShame the blanket of my nightAnd all my days are dying

POETRY SHAPES MY GENDER.

A book of verses underneath the boughA flask of wine, a loaf of bread and thouBeside me singing in the wildernessAnd wilderness is paradise now.

I heard your whispered fantasies so clear Softly told in my earI opened my eyes you weren’t thereSo real my dream, I was so awareBut we’ll meet again so certainlyIn our whispered fantasy

Recall what used to be the theme of poetry in the romantic era. In neat verses the poet lets us share his private, bourgeois emotions: his sufferings great and small, his nostalgias, his religious or...

crawled like a blind slug into the web

Our state cannot be severed, we are one,One flesh; to lose thee were to lose myself.

there are so many dayswhen living stops and pulls up and sitsand waits like a train on the rails.

Each in the most hidden sack keptthe lost jewels of memory,intense love, secret nights and permanent kisses,the fragment of public or private happiness.A few, the wolves, collected thighs,other men loved the dawn scratchingmountain ranges or...

Be generous with your smile and try not to frown.And you will see my children; your smile will never let you down ☺

Las lágrimas que no se lloranesperan en pequeños lagos?O serán ríos invisiblesque corren hacia la tristeza?

hough we travel the whole over to find the perfect match,we must carry it with us a light or it’s playing hard to catch.

If it doesn’t sound insane, I would only talk about you and the only word which would come out of my mouth, will be your name.

Que grande vantagem o recordar intrasigentemente!Agora tenho pena de nunca mais ter visto a outra raparigaE tenho pena de nem sequer ter olhado para esta(…)Porque todas as recordações são a mesma recordação,Tudo o que foi...

We have seen the best minds of our generation destroyed by boredom at poetry readings.

SolitudeHappy the man, whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air In his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, Whose flocks supply him with...

with shrunken fingerswe ate our oranges and bread,shivering in the parked car;though we know we had neverbeen there before,we knew we had been there before.

Sevgili Güllük;Yastık kanepenin üzerine konur. Tekme atılarak düşürülür o. Pazar günleri kuru fasulye yenir. Karşılıklı, alt alta, üst üste ve daha değişik şekillerde durulur. Islak vardır. Portakalın içi de dışı gibi portakal rengidir. Köstebeklerin uçma...

She was a Phantom of delightWhen first she gleam’d upon my sight;A lovely Apparition, sentTo be a moment’s ornament:Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;Like twilight’s, too, her dusky hair;But all things else about her...