POEMS OF ALBERTO CAEIRO – Volume 1

A free gift for National Poetry Day. My first collection of translations – from the amazing Poet who inspires me – Fernando Pessoa. “Acute as his own emotional life was, he nevertheless belongs essentially to the order of poets whose work is inspired, not merely for their own personality, but by the world of things and men outside them.” On Keats – highlighted in margins by Fernando Pessoa in a book in his Library.

Poems of Alberto Caeiro-Final (Click on me to download pdf)

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THE PURPOSE

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PRIVACY UPDATE OCTOBER 2019.  I found I had written a poem as a privacy statement, which I have now completed and added.  Nothing legal just simple words; enjoy! BACK TO THE PURPOSE! With this site I will bring together various writings, quotes, and poems that interest me and that draw together the themes of my writing.  Rather than write in a conventional way I want to use this site to draw together all the themes of my writing into one full integrated whole. Continue reading

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CULTURAL DEMOCRATISATION OF THE SUBLIME

A interesting essay in The Times by James Marriott (Deputy Books Editor) “Are we stuck in a time loop reliving the 60s and 70s“ discusses whether the ‘cultural wasteland’ theory, that our society is incapable of new ideas and trends which is gaining ground on the left and right, seems overly pessimistic” It got me thinking and I agree with his optimism: thanks for the stimulation James!!

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ONENESS

When all have power seeking ideology, what joins us,
Except the hatred of all others who have more power:
A self love overriding the human instinct of community;
…………..A oneness of a one language creating and breaking us,
…………..With the uniqueness of our onenesses trapping us all.

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I AM

The skull, the secret heart’s fuse,
the pathways of blood I cannot see,
the tunnels of dreams, with a Muse,
the viscera, the nape, the bony me.
I am these things. Yet remarkably
I am also the memory of a bee
and the setting sun’s loneliness in
scattered golden shadows, within.
I am one who sees the prow from land:
I am one of the rare books, the rhymed,
pages stained by the weariness of time;
I am one who envies those so planned.
Strange it is to be a man who weaves
words into a room in need of eaves.

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SHE IS

She is the light in my darkness
Taking me to places I could not see;
Her soft silent touch embracing me
Wrapping me and protecting me.

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I AM OUT

I am out, I am gone, I am now free:
I now feel the fresh breeze singing of the smoke,
………that no longer chokes me in the city I live.
I now smell the smiles from the touching lips
………that now release fully the words I live in.
I now hear the silent noise, through her, of those
………that crafted and shaped me where I live.

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