Wednesday, February 11, 2009


i fear him...

my heart stops before i give in.
my head rules over my every move,
my every trace of feeling.

but the written words

the written words...

he walks in holding peace and understanding.

he's tall.
he's not.

he brings me faraway lands and desires,
struggles and visions i held secretly within.

he's quiet.

he says no word,
and watches me from afar.

it's late.
it's late and it might not snow tonight.

what must we do with all the clouds left behind?
what statues of thought can we build in-between?
and then how, how to break them?....

my heart stops halfway,
turns back.
my head leads the way.
as if by accident,
protecting what is not seen.

yet he sees it...

he sees me.

he watches from afar.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

in-between silence(s)

" is it right, my love, is it right?

are you happy inside your eyes?
can't you see your lover
fall apart in her silk threads?

in time the hunter will find
the trail of blood

i see you alone tonight
when will you tear down?
love will save you

try not to starve yourself of love

- feed your hunger

is it right, my love, is it right?

it's a question with no reply
i am sure of longing to be on the open sea
to feel the comfort of the mist
upon my cheek

no, i'm not crying

lose me in your memory
turn your head

let me become a part of it

let me become a part of it

(...) "

it didn't start that way...

it never does.

a more tender
more thoughtful
more heartfelt gesture gets my attention,
draws me in,
makes me feel special,

and the game begins.

suddenly i am touched by rules i was not explained,
that i do not understand,
yet somehow invade my whole life and its surroundings.

and i can no longer smile what i feel,
i cannot hug too tight,
i cannot look deep into their eyes.

the next square to land on is unknown.
i place myself on it with all the care and honesty i can,
all the fear i hide,
all the love i do not know
- my hands clenched behind my back..

yet i always seem to mislead myself.


i'm in every place
all over the place(s)
in what i feel.

and i don't know
i won't find out
what flows around.

where it starts.

where it ends.




and it will always be
a hand held
(too far)

(first image:
noose, by cynthia zordich
last image: (c) ana nicolau)

Tuesday, October 21, 2008


my body took my soul for a drive.

the sun was beginning to set
and somewhere across the world someone's wish for a new day,
a new chance,
a new start,
was finally coming true.

a flock of birds flew past as i turned down the road that would lead me to my next moment of now.

another bird passed by
right in front of my eyes,
filling me with his own essence
and the amazing wonder of all.

the unborn poppies
as i rolled down the window
to let in that field of coloured sea.


my body took my soul for a drive.


they rescued me.

Saturday, October 4, 2008


the world is immense

and i have no home.

suddenly it hits me,
the unbearable reality,

when all i touch turns to gold
and all i love is out of touch

and i'm forever lost
in this labyrinth i created
for my own daring.

i don't like it
this way.

i don't like it

when i see myself

from the distance

and it feels


and haunted.


nothing but shadows

beyond the deafening silence.


but timeless



" every night my dream’s the same.
same old city with a different name.
men are coming to take me away.
i don’t know why but i know i can’t stay.

there’s a weight that’s pressing down.
late at night you can hear the sound.
even the noise you make when you sleep.
can’t swim across a river so deep.
they know my name 'cause i told it to them,
but they don’t know where and they don’t know when
it’s coming,

it’s coming.

there’s this fear i keep so deep,
knew its name since before i could speak:
aaaah aaaaaah aaaaah aaaaaah
they know my name 'cause i told it to them,
but they don’t know where and they don’t know when
it’s coming,

when it’s coming

keep the car running

if some night i don’t come home,
please don’t think i’ve left you alone.
the same place animals go when they die,
you can’t climb across a mountain so high.
the same city where i go when i sleep,
you can’t swim across a river so deep.
they know my name 'cause i told it to them,
but they don’t know where
and they don’t know when
it’s coming,

when is it coming?

keep the car running

keep the car running

keep the car running "

(image: desiree dolron, xteriors ix)

Friday, September 19, 2008

" pai "

"i miss you

i guess that i should"

(counting crows, raining in baltimore)


morning becomes dark and empty as i wake up to the day

to find the scratched hands and words

that have lost you along the way

would you have stayed if i'd dreamt harder?

could you have had another try?

in dreams reality is kind

and pain no more than a sigh


today only i will be a child,

with no possible time lapse

no shame or masked fears

- i miss you always beyond this silence

this trail of memories

this blood of tears


("day comes up sicker than a cat
something's wrong that is that

mr. somewhere missing somewhere
never did figure just how much

a boat from the river takes you out
'cross the other side of town, to get out, to get out
you take the tide, any tide, any tide
like there isn't gonna be any tide

mr. somewhere missing somewhere
never did figure just how much

missing somewhere
never did figure just how much

a world like tomorrow wears things out
it's hard enough to get what's yours for now
and the hardest words are spoken softly
softly look, no hands upon

nr. somewhere missing somewhere
never did figure just how much

missing somewhere
never did figure just how much

now the milkman beats you to the door
that was once a home, home no more

mr. somewhere, missing somewhere
couldn't get the calendar to stop

missing somewhere,
never did figure just how much

missing somewhere,
never will admit just how much ")


(image by unknown author, sadly.)

Sunday, September 14, 2008

(in) alice's pain


suicide watch
is an intensive monitoring process used to ensure that an individual does not commit suicide.



i was sitting close to her, a seat between us, my hand reaching past it, over her shoulder, cuddling her till where my fingers could reach, wanting almost to go through her skin and reach inside, deep where the voices i could not hear shouted at her, voices no one could imagine, voices that would deafen her speech and mute her hearing;
and so the touch, the attempt of the touch, the touch desperate to reach inside, inside until my hands covered the mouth of those unfair and lying voices that pushed that firey-alice into the deepest hole in her,
away from everything,
from everyone,
away from everything that is
in life.

" you see..

i wasn't supposed to be alive by friday......"

she said it in a whisper,

knowing what is certain,

with no path to return.

and i had vertigo of her planned death.


she spoke through the crying that torn her breathing apart,
as if nothing left inside but the black of all her immense colours, that darkness of sharpened knives and swallowed pills
that lingered across years of injustice, hidden love, discouragement.

and i thought
i thought
that it isn't fair.

the scales becoming more and more uneven
without us knowing,
without us knowing the weight of every hour.

the weight of not recognizing oneself.

of losing
one is.

so tempting, just letting go.....

before my eyes she fell, and i knew she fell with her eyes closed, clenched as fists, and thus let herself go, not speaking to anyone, not even looking at us anymore, nothing of her but that little girl's body abandoned by herself and that quiet, chocking, painful cry,
that contaminated my blood with sadness and anger.

unthinkable not to hold the hands of one who carries in them their own present and raise them until they see, know, feel everything that is, can be, always, everyday, every minute, still, always, life.

i wanted to shake her and say stop, stop the voices, stop everything that's tormenting you, dive out of yourself if you need to because we'll catch you,
we will catch you,
just don't go.
not like this.
not before so much of you.

but she was just a little girl, curled up in herself,
tiny tiny,
tiny with fear and so grown up with pain...

scared to break her, almost...
as if a bird with broken wings.

with nowhere to fly to.

each moment...

the healing.



in the quietness of the night, she slept as one who surrenders to the rest of the arms of a home, a friend, a shelter.

in the tender light of day she held my hand and took me through her labyrinth of trees, all tangled in rusty knots of dark memories and flowers left to die by their own negligence,
and through the mist of fear i could see she looked this way.
at us.
from the distance.
she looked.

and we had to make her see.

so we told her of the lights that brighten the day,
the candles that go out so that it can come,
the night that rests, tranquilizes, pacifies...

let it come, peaceful.

and may the day be gentle on you..


let it.

what we think is only that,

a thought we allow to be.

life at its full is a sunset

a hand held in the dark

the sea.


(image by john tenniel)

Friday, August 15, 2008

(my) country of people and sea

" Everything chains me to the land I gave myself in:
the suddenly teenager river,
the light tripping on the corners,
the sands where I impatiently burnt.

Everything chains me with the same sad love
that is knowing life doesn't last long,
and in it I put hope and the warmth
of some fingers with remains of tenderness.

They say there are other skies and other moons
and other eyes deep with joy,
but I belong to these houses, these streets,
this love dripping melancholy. "

(eugénio de andrade, canção breve)


i see the way.

i know it complete, and i know where it leads.

to which sea of land and people of my own.

fear of shame?

shame of fear?

the same cold shiver going into the sea
- my whole life in suspended desire
for the awaited time of this dive of me.

more than queens and princes
i bring in my suitcase the fairies that know my wings
in certainty, dignity of just being.

i am all those i buried,
all those that were born inside
- tattooed seeds of constant change of tide.


i hear (myself) in the wind.

as if mine the name that someone.

as if calling dream to a life
that no one else
no one else


right now,

faraway and close,

i try humbleness:

i live.


(first picture: ana nicolau, selfportrait2007
second picture: eduardo gageiro
third picture: haleh bryan, dani-blue)