Poetry
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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…
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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
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New poem in Our Times
Poem – shooed out Visit the site here
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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 …
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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…
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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…
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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
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Atlantis – sang by Nancy Dutra
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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…
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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
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The Soul and It’s Worms
* A leaf follows my footsteps rasping its skin against cobblestone bleeds with every turn to be near ©1998 paulodacosta
