This collection contains original work inspired by the volcanic and verdant Portuguese Archipelago in the wonderful wilds of the North Atlantic Ocean and the beautiful creatures who inhabit them. Bem vindo!
Summer, Azores, 2019
The days were long, full and lush.
I sucked intently at the breast of this little world
for each drop of nourishment offered.
An intoxicating brew,
numbing the senses
to all the superfluous—
enabling crystalline focus
on worthy subjects only:
sunrises, sunsets.
moonrises, moonsets.
singing birds, crooning cows.
crashing waves, warbling cagarros.
Friendly “bom dias”, “boa tardes”
and “boa noites” from the passersby.
Happy toots from passing trucks selling fruit
or crusty provisions straight from the padaría.
The bells of Nossa Senhora de Conceicão
announcing the passing time with their old world din.
These were—
precious and hallowed moments,
insisting frequent remembrance—
often joyous,
at times mournful,
but always grateful,
for the gift that was—
Summer, Azores, 2019.
INQUIRIES
Though I am not there, life goes on.
The mighty azure surf rolls in-and-out
The sun’s long arc creeps from horizon-to-horizon
The cagarros arrive at the warming and say goodbye when it is time
The fruit truck toots its happy horn while passing-by
The yearly feasts are observed and locals make merry
The whales still know what they know and keep it all to themselves
. . .
The wind whistles through my shutters and hums across our fields
The mantle clock faithfully ticks-out the lonely hours
The hydrangea buds, blooms and blows away
INQUIRIES
Fado
(Portuguese for Fate)
The moth has fallen in love
with a streetlamp. And
why not? His dazzling attention
is craved by many. Surrounded nightly
by scores of fluttering
Jezebels. But this evening
he shines only for her.
All through the dark she undulates
to and fro his glow. A lusty mid-air tango
powered by lux amorous.
But—
This is not their first dance.
Invariably—
The Fates will have their way.
The sun starts its rise
as his lumens begin to dim.
The light-warmed air cools around them
and galos crow-out last-call.
Dawn slowly creeps-in
whilst he in his candelas
softly sneak-out. Parting
their wooing-ways as-always.
And so it goes with love
and wattage.
INQUIRIES
Portuguese to English for “Saudade”
Melancholy
Longing
Sadness
Heartbreak
Worry
Nostalgia
Resentment
Fury
LOVE
Anger
Frustration
Jealousy
Pining
Anguish
Heartsick
Grief
Missing
Desperation
&
Has there ever been a word
translated less sufficiently?
INQUIRIES
BALEIA
(Portuguese for Whale)
What a word—
three magnificent syllables
itself a song emanating from the deeps
Gorgeously denoting all that lies beneath—
an underworld festooned in mystery
dreamily carrying-on in their watery ways
Whilst the interloping twinkle from above—
rings out like a cerulean telephone
insistently calling from that upper place
Huddled in buoyant anticipation—
patiently and impatiently preparing
to greet the great ambassador
BA—
LEI
A
In Memory of Captain Carlos
those who are born of the sea return to the sea
The good captain peers
Over his wheel and bow
Looking weathered but unfazed—
Like the battle-tested basalt rocks
Sheltering the quiet port.
those who are born of the sea return to the sea
He looks back at his crew on the pier
Issuing a grateful nod
And an implied até logo—
Proceeding steadfastly
Into the fraternal North Atlantic.
those who are born of the sea return to the sea
With every nautical inch
Once calm waters grow unquiet
Turning dark blues into dazzling topaz—
With every break and crash
That never grow old.
those who are born of the sea return to the sea
Broken loose from the green island
The captain instinctively sets course
For someplace new but not uncharted—
São Miguel looking smaller and smaller aft
On the horizon the beatific beacon brightly beckons.
those who are born of the sea return to the sea
Sneaker Wave
____________________________________________________________________________________
Because nobody saw it coming
When the unthinkable no longer is
The future consumed by the present
And all that remains after the breaking—
Swiftly relegated to the past
INQUIRIES
Fantasia on a Pizza
The warm kitchen lights of “Fantasía Pizzería” have just gone-off.
Empty bottles of Jardinette and Maré Cheia
are carefully scrapped by Samantha
and Germana resolutely closes the red, blue and white gate.
But the steadfast embers in Aurelio’s oven burn-on.
Quietly sharing stories in the placid dark
of the evening that was
and glowing rumination on the meals to be.
Merry patrons stroll back to seaside cottages
on bellies full of amity and joy.
Accompanied by airy swells fresh-off the North Atlantic
infused with savory incense from chattering cinders
nostalgically and reverently inhaled by all.
As each of their tales go-on.
G P S
THIS IS
PRECISELY
WHERE
I AM
SUPPOSED
TO BE
RIGHT HERE
RIGHT NOW
AND
I AM
GRATEFUL
G P S
IS THIS
PRECISELY
WHERE
I AM
SUPPOSED
TO BE
RIGHT HERE
RIGHT NOW
AND
AM I
GRATEFUL
INQUIRIES
Dangerous Sun
I caught my first Azorean Cold
From an impetuous embrace
With a dangerous sun—
Both warm and frigid;
An unprotected weekend fling
in the teeth of temperate winter;
A fickle lover—unamused
By summertime whimsy.
INQURIES
HOME
is where—
my heart is
is where—
your heart is
is where—
our heart is
is where—
the heart is
well—
home.
INQUIRIES
The Mystery of Life?
I do not have to know;
I only have to be.
I do not aspire to know;
I only aspire to be.
I do not need to know;
I only need to be.
I do not desire to know;
I only desire to be.
I do not dream to know;
I only dream to be.
I do not live to know;
I only live to be.
INQUIRIES
SUNRISE
The first brush stroke
On the canvas of today.
The potential
Is almost beyond mind’s eye.
Am I open
To this opportunity?
Or restrained to
Solely painting-by-number?