The blues affair

I met her where the light was weakening
an enduring twilight had settled on what
was re-lived in the memory of summer
moving out of the convention, tired leaves
in the soft breeze on its final breath.
We spoke of the past but not of the now
the present didn’t matter.
I saw her as a disappearing holograph
dying in the mist of life lived
past emotions could not awaken
she had gone to a place I could not follow
as her face was erased.

the avenue's trees 

What is with this month of May
the day is as cold as November 
the leaves on the trees are full
and green, yet among the mass
of chlorophyll, I see many yellow
and Auburn leaves.
It is as if the trees think of autumn 
has arrived and is prepared
for winter hiatus.
If I tell the plants it is because of
melting ice in the Arctic, they
will look skeptical and say
we follow nature's signal, this
year will be the shortest one
on record, except for the ano
of 1748, when snow fell in June

God and Austerity
The supermarket that calls itself Forum,
has a bell tower, but now, in time of
austerity, no one flocks to buy anything
when its bells ring every hour.
Sunday, when I drove my wife to church
the car park was full of vehicles
the bells didn’t
toll in vain; when I looked through
the window people were singing hymns.
When time is good, god becomes distant
But with economic times and threats
of a new war is looming, people turn to
an abstraction in time of an unsure future.
Mind, god looks after his flock, walking
around the car park, I noticed most cars
looked new, but if you have got it and want
to keep it a prayer goes a long way.

the shock 

72%  of the inhabitants of Israel
Approve of Netanyahu's treatment of 
the people of Gaza
One supposes their TV shoves the same
horror as we see  
It is as the people of Israel are beset by
an inner truth that destroys their soul
and lead them into self-destruction 
For, we need a long spoon when 
dealing with Israel

Fear and other things

I have recurring nightmares and tell myself
to remember the dream in the morning
but I'm unable to recall the gruesome dream
I think it is about nuclear war 
When a ******, I was often afraid of the ocean
especially in the Pacific, where waves look like 
the mountain that even unbalanced hangar ships
the ship on top of a watery mountain, then sliding
down, and in front of another gigantic wave,
will she be able to rise up again
I was in Nagasaki once, and by closing my eyes, I could
see when that Bomb was dropped as tableaux
of suffering people and death
Panic, where I lived before I came to Cascais, there was
a forest, I often walked there with my dog
but not far into the forest, one day, when thinking
about the mountain, what for lunch at the cafe
I ended up in the deep forest and lost by bearing
I think the dog sensed my distress and began 
walking, I followed,  every so often turned to see
if I was there until I recognized my surroundings
and bravely took charge 
This is not romantic of me, but I do not dream about
women in my life, except Teresa in
Trinidad, I remember her beautiful smile and stars,
light up the world was a good place, to think she was pro
Other women are fading slowly, and faces are in deep
shadow as they disappear from memory

a quiet walk 

In the graveyard, I walked 
I didn't take the dog in case she smelt bones
noticed even in death 
there are three classes 
I was drawn to the famous lies because
their place is more airy
big stones, with swada words in gold, nice
flowers and well-kept lawn
the dead middle-class people's graves were
nice to in black marble
I did come across a grave that told us 
the dead had been a chief engineer
he might have been a cruel person 
and would, if he could, be pleased that his
title mattered for his family 
The poor graves tucked in a corner 
overgrown grass hiding names, thistle too
had stings
They had something in common that made
them equal, death silence

Peace

A glorious morning in the bay of Cascais
seven coastal ships on a mirror.
Stilleben
Sunday, the crew are asleep
except for a cook who is up preparing
breakfast

This could be a picture of eternity
but a small motorboat breaks the mirror
leaves a white scar that heals itself

The sky is softly blue, and white clouds are
sun-flecked  and in no haste going anywhere
on this day of bliss