He’ll know

Rain will fall again on your smooth pavement, a light rain like a breath or a step. The breeze and the dawn will flourish again when you return, as if beneath your step. Between flowers and sills the cats will know.   There will be other days, there will be other voices. You will smile … More He’ll know


They are like a crystal, words. Some a dagger, some a blaze. Others, merely dew. Secret they come, full of memory. Insecurely they sail: cockleboats or kisses, the waters trembling. Abandoned, innocent, weightless. They are woven of light. They are the night. And even pallid they recall green paradise. Who hears them? Who gathers them, … More Words


Come to me in the silence of the night;     Come in the speaking silence of a dream; Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright     As sunlight on a stream;        Come back in tears, O memory, hope, love of finished years. O dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter sweet,     … More Lingering

I’d rather stop

This is not a good photo. I couldn’t get out of the car and attempt a proper photo, the letter box stands right by a traffic light and words on walls and urban equipments tend to vanish quickly, so you get them when you spot them. Pause and reflect on the [your / mine]  path  … More I’d rather stop

Be all this

Quiero que sepas una cosa. Tú sabes cómo es esto: si miro la luna de cristal, la rama roja  del lento otoño en mi ventana,  si toco junto al fuego  la impalpable ceniza o el arrugado cuerpo de la leña,  todo me lleva a ti,  como si todo lo que existe,  aromas, luz, metales,  fueran … More Be all this

Welcome song

Here’s your Mom, here’s your Dad. Welcome to being their flesh and blood. Why do you look so sad? Here’s your food, here’s your drink. Also some thoughts, if you care to think. Welcome to everything. Here’s your practically clean slate. Welcome to it, though it’s kind of late. Welcome at any rate. Here’s your … More Welcome song

Living by the sea

“When I die I will return to seek The moments I did not live by the sea.” Sophia De Mello Breyner Selected Poems, translated by Richard Zenith, Carcanet Press, 1997. Tour Guide

even though it isn’t mine

even though I feel at home in most places I travel to, even though I can’t wait to leave, even though it now looks mostly as a theme park, I sometimes can’t help but feel that Porto  belongs to me because I belong to it. References  Truman Capote

Não fora o Mar

Não fora o mar, e eu seria feliz na minha rua, neste primeiro andar da minha casa a ver, de dia, o sol, de noite a lua, calada, quieta, sem um golpe de asa. Não fora o mar, e seriam contados os meus passos, tantos para viver, para morrer, tantos os movimentos dos meus braços, … More Não fora o Mar