Sunday, July 31, 2016

I Cannot Collect Butterflies.

I had a grampy who taught me my first hobby-butterfly collecting. Ironic on so many levels because he was a conscientious objector during WW2, and yet, he adored the brutal art of preserving beauty and making it your own by spearing the heads of butterflies with pins and letting them writhe to death in a tailor-made showcase, in appreciation of Life. He was very careful not to touch the wings, as that would damage them. He also played the chapel organ for forty years in the small village where he was the patron of the village pub- as I said ironic on many levels.

As much as I would like, I cannot collect butterflies-the true appreciation of something like a butterfly, is to see it free, where you know it is happy and not trapped in a place it should not be.
(Gerry Aldridge ©2016)



Saturday, July 30, 2016

" A paz que eu sinto "

" A paz que eu sinto "

A paz que eu sinto
Quando meus poemas abraço
Descrever eu não consigo

É um isolar do mundo
Um estar á parte
Um sentir
Todo ele forte,e profundo

É um querer estar só
Ouvir a gota da chuva
Fria
Na noite escura

Lá fora,
Indiferente,suave
Uma folha cai
Hó!Deixá-la cair......

Meu rosto
A luz da vela ilumina
Cúmplice de meus sonhos de menina

Só a beleza da natureza
Á minh'alma sussurra......

Minha mão,a pena acaricia
Quantas vezes num dilema
Solto-os ao vento
Os meus poemas
Guardo-os no coração,minha poesia? 
(Ana Beatriz Carvalho ©2016)
 Nasci em Angola na pequena aldeia do Mavoio,no dia 7 /1/60.
Vivi no Lobito e em Luanda.
Trago na minha memória a minha infância feliz e os aromas de África.
Vim para Portugal com 15 anos.
Sou casada.Vivo e trabalho na zona de Cascais.
Defendo a causa animal e não consigo ver alguém passando mal sem que isso me afecte.
A arte sempre me tocou.Escrevo porque é uma forma de libertação de emoções que há muito guardo em meu coração.

Friday, July 29, 2016

Imagine showing your real self.....................

'Imagine showing your real self......
Who would that be to?'
(Gerry Aldridge ©2016)

'You do not have to know anything to be educated'

I think one of the greatest lesons I have learned in my humble fifty years on this planet is-
'You do not have to know anything to be educated' but because my mind rambles, I am already questioning what I wrote because some things are contextual and can mean everything. while sweeping generalisations, mean bloody nothing. Mmmmm refer to previous post-Poem called Mmmmm

Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Truth- FB turned Blogpost :)

Well, I will not sleep, so I might as well write- thinking about truth..I was never afraid of that, which greatly disturbed my awkwardly British family-Perhaps this should be a blog post lol- anyway 
Truth
If you want the truth,
Always ask in the morning.
By the evening,
We have all
Rationilised everything.
(Gerry Aldridge)




Monday, July 25, 2016

Mmmm

This is a poem called
Mmmm
Mmmmmmmmmmmm
Mmmmmmmmmmm
Mmmmmmmmmmmm
Mmmmmmm

Mmmmmmmmm
Mmmmmmm
Mmmmmmmm
Mmm (No Commas, or full stops)
It has been one of those days,
I am sure you can fill in the verses
For yourself.
(Gerry Aldridge ©2016)




Sunday, July 24, 2016

Saturday, July 23, 2016

Metaphorical Masterpiece

I am experimenting, no disrespect to Fernando Pessoa, but I added a verse to this metaphorical masterpiece-
Ah, todo o cais é uma saudade de pedra!
E quando o navio larga do cais
E se repara de repente que se abriu um espaço
Entre o cais e o navio,
Vem-me, não sei porquê, uma angústia recente,
Uma névoa de sentimentos de tristeza
Que brilha ao sol das minhas angústias relvadas
Como a primeira janela onde a madrugada bate,
E me envolve como uma recordação duma outra pessoa
Que fosse misteriosamente minha.
And then I saw it.
A sparkle and a glint of hope
Dispelling all despair.
It was the thread
Of a spider’s web
Still connecting me to you.
It stretched beyond
The ocean and the sky,
Who knows perhaps even infinity?
(Gerry Aldridge ©2016)


The Awakening

Have you ever woken up
In the middle of the day,
While you were still awake?
A split second of clarity,
And you see where you shouldn't be.
You are in the wrong place
Entirely.
(Gerry Aldridge ©2016)




Friday, July 22, 2016

Life Is A Trip.

Life Is A Trip.
Call me Alice-
The one in Wonderland.
I eat a piece of this cake
And watch myself 
Become too tall.
I nibble the other
And feel shame
When I get too small.
I hope one day
I find the right amount
To make me
The same size as
You.
(Gerry Aldridge 2016)




inspired by Fernando Pessoa- Poema de Amigo Aprendiz

Sunday, July 17, 2016

Amigo

Why is it that when I google friendship and loyalty, all I get is animals and children? Makes you wonder whether growing up could perhaps be more accurately defined. .

Amigo

1. 
Amigo, toma para ti o que quiseres, 
passeia o teu olhar pelos meus recantos, 
e se assim o desejas, dou-te a alma inteira, 
com suas brancas avenidas e canções. 
2. 
Amigo - faz com que na tarde se desvaneça 
este inútil e velho desejo de vencer. 
Bebe do meu cântaro se tens sede. 

Amigo - faz com que na tarde se desvaneça 
este desejo de que todas as roseiras 
me pertençam. 

                               Amigo, 
se tens fome come do meu pão. 
3. 
Tudo, amigo, o fiz para ti. Tudo isto 
que sem olhares verás na minha casa vazia: 
tudo isto que sobe pelo muros direitos 
- como o meu coração - sempre buscando altura. 

Sorris-te - amigo. Que importa! Ninguém sabe 
entregar nas mãos o que se esconde dentro, 
mas eu dou-te a alma, ânfora de suaves néctares, 
e toda eu ta dou... Menos aquela lembrança... 

... Que na minha herdade vazia aquele amor perdido 
é uma rosa branca que se abre em silêncio... 

Pablo Neruda, in "Crepusculário" 
Tradução de Rui Lage 



Saturday, July 16, 2016

Sunday, July 10, 2016

Poems are not absolute truths

Poems are not absolute truths, they are a moment, but when somebody wrote to me challenging something i had said in a poem, it actually made me want to rewrite it because this person's words were so intelligent and true. Instead of rewriting the poem, I will turn it into a dialogue. Thus the poem becomes kind of organic as it becomes alive. Here is the new version-
First-Words are not beautiful, it is the romantic connection between feelings and metaphors that moves us.
Afterall, what is a word,
If not a squiggle
Gasping for meaning?
Second-I thought words were beautiful and when the words made my heart thump I thought it was because of beautiful words....not my head playing tricks with my heart......Naw words are beautiful, letters are just squiggly lines.
(Gerry Aldridge and Mary Campbell 2016)


Friday, July 8, 2016

Words are not beautiful

'Words are not beautiful, it is the romantic connection between feelings and metaphors that moves us.
Afterall, what is a word,
If not a squiggle
Gasping for meaning?'
(Gerry Aldridge 2016)




'If I erase everything in my head, does it mean I will lose my mind?'

Today I tried rubbing out some thoughts I had written down and I managed not to damage the paper. But, the words were still there, etched in my mind, and erasing them only made me remember them more. Now, I am sure they are stuck there forever and the paper will be misused again.
'If I erase everything in my head, does it mean I will lose my mind?'
(Gerry Aldridge ©2016)

Thursday, July 7, 2016

Não deixem o poeta morrer!

      This is a friend of mine, who I recently discovered writes poetry.
I would like to thank her for sharing her work and I hope she comes back soon. :) :) :)


        Não deixem o poeta morrer!
Não deixem o poeta morrer!
Eu não sei fazer a rima

Mas na poesia tenho estima

Eu sinto a pena do poeta no peito
Um turbilhão de emoções
Que se tocam,encontram e desencontram
Num soneto quase perfeito

Eu sinto respeito

Pelo poeta,profeta
Que em si carrega as dores do mundo
num sentir todo ele raro e profundo

Há quem não o entenda
E o tome por desgraçado,o coitado!

Enganem-se os que não sentem
Pobres dos que não vêm

A grandeza desta alma
A pureza de o ser
O sofrer
E assim mesmo
Continuar a amar a poesia

Não deixem o poeta morrer!
         (Ana Beatriz Carvalho  ©2016)

Florbela Espanca, in "Diário do Último Ano"

I do not believe in coincidences, but it is a coincidence I discovered this book today. 




Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Real Holes.

I do not want to be one of those poets who writes sad poems when he is down, or happy poems when he is up-I write thoughts, past and present and they have no actual reflection whatsoever of my present mood- And yes, I exaggerate pain and happiness to write a good poem- although I have to have felt it once at least in my life-past or present ;) Lol, yes, I have a dark one coming up :)
The True Meaning Of A Hole
A hole is not a real hole,
Unless it is a black hole
And is constantly sucking
The life out of you.
(Gerry Aldridge ©2016)
It is like the word miss- to truly miss is to be constantly emptied.


Bliss.

Bliss.
A gust blew down
And daffodil petals
Rained upon my hair.
They melted on my shoulders,
Becoming custard tears.
So warm they felt 
And sweet they tasted,
It took away all my fears.
(Gerry Aldridge ©2016)
Google translate-,,,,
Felicidade.
Uma rajada soprou
E pétalas de narciso
Choveu no meu cabelo.
Eles derretido sobre os meus ombros ,
Tornando-se lágrimas de nata .
Tão quente que sentiam
E doce que provei ,
Ele levou todos os meus medos.
(Gerry Aldridge ©2016)







Tuesday, July 5, 2016

The Beautiful Convenience Of The Forgetment Of Life.

The Beautiful Convenience Of The Forgetment Of Life. 
A past is only such because it is remembered, If you forget your past, it will perhaps be somebody else's, but yours it will be no more-
Reply to the Above
-But I saw you there! I clearly remember.
Reply to the Above
-Well, I have erased it, So I suppose it is my past no longer. Keep it, it's yours.

(Gerry Aldridge ©2016...work in progress..)

Sunday, July 3, 2016

An Overbearing Heart

An Overbearing Heart
I can't remember the last time my heart stopped beating....
I wish it would,
At least rest a while,
So I do not explode.
(Gerry Aldridge © 2016)



Saturday, July 2, 2016

The Door At The End Of The Hall-my favourite port of call

As a bird
I knocked at that door-
The one at the end
Of the hall.

Now all I do
Is make noise outside,
Hoping she won't
Hear me at all.

Lest I fall off my bike
And hurt myself-
I know she will come
If I call.
(Gerry Aldridge © 2016)