An exercise on existing

The sleep of the righteous man

2023-01-11T09:00:00.003-03:00

They too

lay in bed

with thoughts

Of the beautiful things

They cannot speak of

For it is easier

Than one might suppose

To be utterly lost

for words.

Broken telephone

2021-04-01T11:36:00.001-03:00

They don't teach you

what to say

to the person on

the other end of the line

calling at 3 a.m.

with words she

would rather not utter

and you

would rather not listen.

Or what to do with the

3 a.m. silence

after you hang up,

how to fill the hours

left before the sunrise,

to leave or not to leave bed,

to brew or not to brew

some coffee,

how to play on.

I started counting ambulances

2020-04-15T14:51:00.003-03:00

because when you live near a hospital,
the sirens muffle all the birdsongs.
I want to believe at least one of them
carries a woman in labor,
bringing a new hope into the world,
even though most women I know
took a bus or a cab to the nearest hospital
to have their babies, some of them even drove.

NaPoWriMo Day 14

Things that make you feel nostalgic

2020-04-13T12:30:00.000-03:00

(after Sei Shōnagon)

Swings. Following paper boats on streams.
Chasing crickets. Playing hide-and-seek.
Drawing watches on your wrist with a pen.
Pulling off ladybugs’ wings so they stay.
Halley’s comet. Pineapple coconut cake.
Time spent with grandparents. Writing letters.

NaPoWrimo Day 13 poem, for a prompt share by Amy Kay

Instructions on how to forget

2020-04-13T11:36:00.001-03:00

Lie in the backyard
late afternoon on
a sunny spring day
and watch the clouds go.

Napowrimo day 12 poem, for a prompt share by Amy Kay

Toys on the planet Earth

2020-04-11T13:25:00.001-03:00

(After Naomi Shihab Nye)

When it is safe again to
leave the house, I want to hear
the names of all your paper dolls
and see your bedroom
in the new address.
We will make up silly songs,
dance around the house,
reread favorite books and
make new imaginary friends.
We will sit in the yard and
drink pretend tea, dig a little,
dream a lot - will you
teach me your secret recipe
for mud cake then?

NaPoWriMo day 11

I am no longer shaken by the mention of your name

2020-04-10T23:58:00.001-03:00

It took me more than four years

because I could not follow the

schedule. Some days you wake

up late and miss the bus, you

forget to take your pills, you

don't pack any lunch, you get

home so late you skip shower

and evening prayers, but yes,

Aldous Huxley was right: all

you need is sixty-two thousand

four hundred repetitions to turn

a lie into a truth.

How little we know

2020-04-09T23:37:00.002-03:00

the litany of sweltering days

to sit out in the yard

under the shade of the avocado tree

drink freshly squeezed lemonade

wait for the neighboring insects to

cry out the terms of rain.

now we go through soultry,

nameless seasons unaware of

closure, we search the sky for

clouds only a few of us can name.

nothing would make us happier

than the song of cicadas.

NaPoWriMo Day 9 - prompt by Christina Thatcher

The old man who cried wolf

2020-04-08T21:15:00.001-03:00

(after Pablo Neruda)

And does the father who
lives in your dreams
die again when you're awake?
My dad has already made up his mind.
He leaves this world little by little
taking a small sip of unconsciousness
two or three times a week
so we don't discover his plan
to go without a goodbye.

Today's poem is based on a prompt offered on Instagram by poet Amy Kay. The idea was to use a question as first line and then answer it in the rest of the poem. I have used a question asked by Pablo Neruda in his 'Book of Questions", which I was introduced to a long time ago by a dearest friend.

I built myself a little triumph

2020-04-07T16:53:00.002-03:00

I said 'enough'.
the letters
clinged to my tongue
furiously tight
and I held on
to those two syllables
loving them
for an entire minute,
before releasing them
gently and walking away,
no breadcrumbs to
bring me back.

NaPoWriMo Day 7 - prompt by Christina Thatcher

To move on tracks of boundless generosity

2020-04-06T14:09:00.003-03:00

Growing up

my father honored

every house we lived in

by planting a vegetable garden.

We had twelve addresses,

we wanted to grow friendships

not cherry tomatoes, we were

such silly kids, my sisters and I.

Orphaned by the age of five,

it would take my old man thirty years

to trust a plot of land

and put down roots.

The Poetry Society - NaPoWriMo Day 5 prompt

Out of reach and fading

2020-04-05T19:03:00.000-03:00

It's been nearly fifteen years now
Portugal stole you away
and installed you by the shore,
lighthouse number fifty-four
pulling drunk sailors off reefs.
I, who have poorly learned to swim,
who have seen the sea only once,
who still struggle to find my North,
may never again lay eyes on you.

(a Tanaga poem)

2020-04-05T14:15:00.003-03:00

You die again, in a dream.
I wake up to fresh pancakes
and undisturbed cirrus clouds.
I won’t bring you back this time.

Cuyahoga Library asked of poets to try the Fillipino Tanaga poetry form today, consisting of four lines of seven syllables in each line. Originally, the rhyme was the same for every line (aaaa), modern rhymes range from dual rhyme forms (aabb, abab, abba) to freestyle forms. Tanagas do not have titles traditionally.

The great unknown

2020-04-04T16:59:00.001-03:00

I have wasted so many wishes that
shooting stars stopped looking for me.
Then I stopped waiting for them.

I care a lot less now about
the trouble outside my window,

I sit in the living room with
my thoughts and emotions.
So many reasons to be grateful.

PAD Challenge day 4 prompt asked of poets to write a 'wish poem'.

Text(ure)

2020-04-04T03:48:00.001-03:00

Careful what you write out.
Each word carries weight.
Not all words make it poems.
Many are subject to confusion.
Some are material to altercation.
Only a few of them make amends.

Today's prompt comes from Christina Thatcher's list. She asked poets to write a poem which included a telephone or another piece of technology. My inspiration was the smartphone and the exchanges we have over Whatsapp especially.

How I stopped writing

2020-04-03T20:06:00.000-03:00

We visited the Red Shift once together,

do you remember?

Do you remember faltering into the darkness,

groping uneasily along walls, the sound of

the red liquid running down the floating sink drain

growing louder, as we moved closer?

Cuyahoga Library, which shares some of my favorite NaPoWriMo writing prompts every year, asked poets to write a poem that is an apology to your muse, explaining why you aren't there writing oftener, better, more clearly, passionately, universally, and/or eternally. This is it. The Red Shift is an installation created by Cildo Meireles at the Inhotim Museum.

Flow

2020-04-02T12:39:00.001-03:00

Every day is a good day.
you open your eyes,
you step into a new world,
never the old you.

PAD Challenge - day 1 prompt

Grounded

2020-03-17T19:49:00.001-03:00

this is how we slowly forget.
things, people, days -
they move around us.

we need to be somewhere.

we walk past them,

always looking the opposite way.

we take pride in busyness.
we mistake it for purpose.

too busy to acknowledge
one another's presence.

too busy to request
one another's stay.

Errands

2019-04-05T23:20:00.001-03:00

Please,
Remember being young,
Remember being yourself,
Remember being loved,
Not all memories are bitter.

(Napowrimo day 5, A to Z Challenge)

Remedios Varo

2019-04-04T12:26:00.000-03:00

Character, Remedios Varo

Picture this:
what if every woman burned as a witch
was reborn as a wolf,
every woman imprisoned in a memory of violation
was transmuted into an eagle,
every woman once told she wasn't good or pretty enough
was converted into a firefly,
every woman cut in a half
grew into two strong, fearless women
and they danced and laughed
in misty forests around bonfires,
wolves, eagles, fireflies, women
until it became impossible to tell them apart?

(NaPoWriMo day 4, inspired by The Imaginary Garden with Real Toads and the PAD Challenge)

(Remedios Varo was one of the few acknowledged female surrealist painters of the first half of the 20th century. She was interested in all things magical and was an avid believer in the inter-relatedness of all things and people. She used art to to revolt against Catholic practices and to express her feminist beliefs.)

Come find me

2019-04-03T23:15:00.000-03:00

Whether the years
between your hand and mine
are one or seven
and we still wait like children
whose faith in dreams is
unwavering.

(NaPoWriMo day 3, for the A to Z Challenge and napowrimo.net)

Before saying we understand all the fundamental physical forces in our universe

2019-04-02T17:04:00.001-03:00

People in the Middle Ages thought the Earth was flat,
that bees were little birds and that
evil spirits lived inside Brussel sprouts.

Until the 1920s, the universe was believed
to consist only of our galaxy.

When I was in elementary school,
I thought camels stored water in their humps,
that carrots would improve my eyesight and that
an earthworm cut in a half would grow into two new ones.

Before 1991 there were 9 planets in the solar system.

Before 2004 eight glasses of water a day would keep you hydrated,
before 2005 stress could give you an ulcera,
before 2006 you would experience taste in different parts of the tongue.

Last year scientists discovered the Great Barrier Reef has been bleaching
for the past 400 years.

What else may we have got wrong?

(NaPoWriMo day 2, for the A to Z Challenge and napowrimo.net)

All of a sudden

2019-04-01T07:10:00.002-03:00

You are no longer alone
you gave someone a key
you wake up at five to wait
for the first sight of the sun
and he is sound asleep
you like your life
you do what you love
you pay your debts
you have just got a
washing machine
you sleep eight hours a night
and hardly ever have a
bad dream.

(NaPoWriMo Day 1 - for The Imaginary Garden, A to Z Challenge, @skypoet prompt over on Instagram and the PAD April Challenge )

Conversation between two hippos

2017-10-09T20:40:00.000-03:00

I am told sometimes,
people are better loved from afar.
Proximity, I hear,
only evidences our frailty.

Yet, here I stand
across from you
craving closeness,
willing to love you

scars and all.

(Conversation between two hippos is originally the title of this display that has just opened at the MET.)

Don't go out in silence

2017-07-17T11:15:00.000-03:00

She leaves one full moon
one cold winter afternoon.
I hug her less than I wish.
I hug her more than anyone else I
have ever had to let go.

I have left quite a few people
go without a word.
I was never taught the
protocol for farewells.
There is a moment

before two paths diverge,
a season sets.
You hope people can read
your love in things other than
words.

(To Julie Ana Abreu)