idembookspublications.blogspot.com
//////////////////////////////////////////////////////
In a lush landscape jagged words do not cut through;
they are mere cavities in a mute soul,
and the creatures that live there can but befriend you.
You know what’s true.
Leonor Hipólito / 2024
audio
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1sal4xC4aXI4uXjeEARqnc2qcr-_jsZGC/view?usp=sharing
______________________________________
______________________________________
na mesa
apenas três cadeiras
um tampo inclinado
uma perna vacilante
um vértice de esguelha
alguém a espreitar alguém à espreita
momento inerte
triangular ao mesmo tempo
o rosto da manhã
apoiado num cotovelo
Leonor Hipólito / 2022
______________________________________
Quiromancia
(observações poéticas sobre gestos)
Quero contar-te um segredo.
(Bem sei, segredo é muito falado.)
( )
( )
( )
( )
Leonor Hipólito / 2021
______________________________________
It is the act of love to provide
and it is an act of love to set free.
The act of love is life thriving;
this seems to be its constant and its only condition.
Leonor Hipólito / 2024
______________________________________
180º / reflexão 23
Aceda ao link para ler esta reflexão:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1on9b0JHVGAzZ_g4cfC2-GjMP0c3scYuJ/view?usp=sharing
______________________________________
______________________________________
Nós
(Eu fora de mim)
É a pureza que eu quero, a pureza,
não do destilo ou da simetria e da beleza postiça,
não da raça, da escala ou da linhagem interminável de
traços exímios.
Quero o que vem antes do cultivo e do perdão.
O que nasce naturalmente e não se culpa por isso.
Os rios antigos, os verdes vivos, o desejo sem artifícios,
o que vem de rompante como um clarão
e desfaz qualquer possibilidade de altivez.
O que eu quero não tem cor nem iluminação específica.
É tão magnificente quanto sóbrio e pequeno,
tão ébrio de nada quanto de tudo.
Leonor Hipólito / 2023
______________________________________
______________________________________
180º / reflexão 19
Aceda ao link para ler esta reflexão:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Mx_6Pvv1e2qlqTu9byC4FdEkgS_E2X9c/view?usp=sharing
______________________________________
Detour (págs. 14, 15)
______________________________________
Interlude – Relapse
audio
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Czs68WGtGNMK9EWRb0EA93sz6nM1kTP0/view?usp=sharing
______________________________________
180º / reflexão 17
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1qcmc6cA7s7n2dO7mV1hQRUd-BdVH8MXt/view?usp=sharing
______________________________________
Love
Click here to read this text
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1cD5fGt4ycEtIeA80nIdFQ-7PTnEjEhJv/view?usp=share_link
______________________________________
Frottage 02 (págs. 12, 13)
____________________________________
Frottage 01 (págs. 32, 33)
audio (poema pag.9)
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1vwZNgkOF8FaNsvsdbzU79zMRotZB9awo/view?usp=sharing
____________________________________
Words of negotiation
Click here to read this text
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1ktMIK_7U4txBsgdMwyjPEMkHiHD_fo1j/view?usp=share_link
______________________________________
Era já noite quando acelerei o passo;
estava mais viva.
Tudo parecia simples.
Mais simples.
Mais.
Na escuridão, via muitas coisas
e coisa alguma.
Então, determinei decidir.
Estava claramente sem saber,
apenas mais viva. Mais íntima do mistério
que dá nome às coisas,
mas que em nada se desvenda,
nem a mim,
que num encontro com nada encontrei
a matéria-prima da promessa.
Leonor Hipólito / 2022
______________________________________
180º / reflexão 16
______________________________________
______________________________________
______________________________________
Plus and minus
Click here to read this text
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1XyaWF2P-ztS0PNUzvpFtZ-5vlbOjZI7y/view?usp=share_link
______________________________________
180º / reflexão 14
______________________________________
For trees to grow high they have to go deep
Click here to read this text
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1UgeFgYPho1oFu31JYDHR9V0-VvXLcsas/view?usp=share_link
______________________________________
na minha incompletude
ainda assim serei
pessoa animal mulher criança
cores modos e o vigor das ancas
dança macabra a formar um círculo na vida
fecunda
mudança
Leonor Hipólito / 2021
______________________________________
Pena de Pavão (contra capa)
audio
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1DMPiePoOhz8fYFpUPxCA2qVSZ7EDn8UQ/view?usp=share_link
______________________________________
______________________________________
180º / reflexão 11
Aceda ao link para ler esta reflexão:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/12YdIdV4GWpxmXL1yAehB290Y_iXrsns9/view?usp=share_link
______________________________________
It isn’t death the threat
but the act of killing:
The horror facing despair
immeasurable
that no one can’t ignore.
It isn’t death the sentence
but soul’s dread of the living.
Life needs attention:
Look in the eyes of the giant.
See through the magnifying glass.
The remaining act is a droplet of ancestry
in the mercurial waters.
Leonor Hipólito / 2023
______________________________________
Who's the future?
Click here to read this text
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1ewP-YDevTFeSDezSgkMEKiqdCbl6Lczy/view?usp=share_link
______________________________________
Mapa-múndi
Que o choro seja a linguagem da alma,
a lamentação, a da dor,
a prece, a do namoro,
o silêncio, a da união,
o grito, a da manifestação,
o suspiro, a da agitação,
o vómito, a da discórdia,
o beijo, a da pacificação,
a fala, a da decisão,
o canto, a do diálogo,
e o gesto, esse traço que tudo sublinha,
a de ambos lembrança e esquecimento.
______________________________________
______________________________________
Tons de vermelho
Leonor Hipólito / 2022
______________________________________
A poesia é um colar de palavras
em volta da indescritível extensão da vida
e do seu sentido.
Nessa ausência de explicação,
as palavras são os nós, as pausas,
que seguram o nada num fio interminável de silêncio.
Para sentirmos.
Leonor Hipólito / 2023
______________________________________
180º / reflexão 10
Aceda ao link para ler esta reflexão:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1mZDx_64DNXYaOwgRec1IQoTwhGyGA35o/view?usp=sharing
______________________________________
Sem se fixar, afirma-se.
Não há como ser de outro modo.
Como?
Se se fixando há de ser solta?!
E o desconhecido tem o seu rosto.
Traçam-se linhas na palma de uma vida
para que siga sem andarilho.
– Vá, livre!
Expoente entre muitos? Não mais que os vivos,
caminhando sobre um estofo de veludo obscuro.
Leonor Hipólito / 2022
______________________________________
Elo perdido numa tarde
elanguescida entre plissados de talvez,
gestos selados, ou transviados do seu sentido?,
e paredes espelhadas a mistério
num quarto de hora sem bónus.
Tarde circular
nos lábios de uma vista distante,
que não importa que seja – não volta!
Leonor Hipólito / 2022
______________________________________
180º / reflexão 9
Aceda ao link para ler esta reflexão:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/149di9kKxpgjTRFb4ZtRLSNLn-prCpTsK/view?usp=sharing
______________________________________
______________________________________
I dreamed of Nature.
It was all we had.
Now
I have a dream.
Leonor Hipólito / 2022
______________________________________
How close are things to each other?
How close are you to things you like?
How close are you to liking?
How close are you to becoming things you like?
How close are you and things alike?
How close are we to each other?
Do you know how close?
______________________________________
audio
https://drive.google.com/file/d/17TXCVFI-ZlDN_aeZ_S2HIr9uSTCkZXtK/view?usp=share_link
______________________________________
No bolso guardo o vento
a tua voz
o anoitecer
a despedida
e um quartzo rosa.
audio
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1YLVQaWvL9ofwApf26wBShxqiDPTWrRJA/view?usp=share_link
______________________________________
A união, rebelde a si própria – um ser sem limites; invisível, esvoaçante,
fumegante, esbracejando, rugindo à procura das suas vestes: fibra, osso,
nervo, membrana, cartilagem, carapaça, pelo, pena, e um dia que se respira a
si próprio.
Com noite e voltas no âmago, nauseada com o vapor da sua ebulição e
fantasia, agita-se; compõe-se, desconjunta-se, parte deixando apenas uma
falange na terra. O suficiente para despertar histórias – outras vidas.
Leonor Hipólito / 2022
______________________________________
audio
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1WePrczwewgecprXEOPDsAKbpezJDAglq/view?usp=share_link
____________________________________
Life is not an object.
Living beings are not objects.
To desire is not to objectify, it is to long for recognition.
But when life, living, being, longing become frustrations 'objects' are all around.
And they fall and crack; they are hostile to us.
Leonor Hipólito /2022
______________________________________
180º / reflexão 8
em diálogo com um poema de Emily Dickinson
Aceda ao link para ler esta reflexão:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1U8SNnDLBVcgv5UZBIs6B3jSy1SVcxeHT/view?usp=sharing
______________________________________
Ultraviolet
We close our eyes and hope for things to change.
And they change.
We open our eyes and hope to see change.
And change unfolds.
We wish,
We desire,
We long for it.
And we change.
We change even when we do not want to.
Change can be perceived as that what is constant and invisibly present perpetuates itself.
When we see through the thin membrane that holds our understanding of it, we can feel a fleeting sense of happiness.
______________________________________
180º / reflexão 5
Aceda ao link para ler esta reflexão:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1ny5_hZLRQejZSP9tswPYBFGvN3Qc0IN_/view?usp=sharing
______________________________________
______________________________________
Que sombra terá o céu?
Não falo das nuvens.
Falo da figura que a nossa imaginação pinta,
num sem-fim de esforço,
para se colorir a si própria;
dessa forma que anseia por seu corpo.
_____________________________________
______________________________________
180º / reflexão 4
Aceda ao link para ler esta reflexão:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/16pC0wNxUX3Sh_Wok75U6QdKlZB3ZByhY/view?usp=sharing
______________________________________
Uma borboleta voa,
rodopia, aparentemente, aleatoriamente.
Observo como desenha no ar,
como desenha o ar,
como, simplesmente, desenha.
Nada vejo desse desenho,
mas sinto que sugere um segredo.
E que se junta a outros
e que, todos os desenhos juntos, serão um dia os traços de uma nova existência.
De um novo mundo a que chamamos realidade?
Observo-a como se observasse a mim própria,
Leonor Hipólito / 2020
poema#11 publicado no livro Pena de Pavão
http://idembooks.com
http://idembookspublications.blogspot.com
em diálogo com um poema de Luis Carrapato
______________________________________
Sorte
Meio dia para conter toda uma vida de espera.
Há muito que espera.
Agora, em meio dia se completa.
Assim é um encontro.
Leonor Hipólito /2022
______________________________________
______________________________________
Fragmentos de um poeta (poema 2)
ainda aqui estou.
Menos por sobrevivência,
mais por vício.
ou deixar os corações dilacerados
e as páginas dos livros manchadas de lágrimas,
escrevo, de muitas maneiras,
mas por senti-lo.
Leonor Hipólito /2021
Aceda ao link para ler sobre o projeto Fragmentos de um poeta
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1wsmFMLbn9w32eIQqUk7PRHJbl5zdpLW-/view?usp=sharing
Click here to read about the project Fragments of a poet
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1QjjlVcQp9JqnSCV5za9E5rwBP8gdF6W6/view?usp=sharing
______________________________________
Resgate do inverso
____________________________________
Metamorfose do olhar
Um rouxinol entrou na minha casa.
Deu voltas perdidas e acabou na minha mão.
Aflito, deixou-se ficar.
Seus olhos fechavam e abriam, seu bico tentava sorver o ar.
Por fim, o calor do meu gesto restitui-lhe o canto.
Vida aflorou no seu pequeno corpo e peito palpitante.
Naquele momento, fomos um.
Logo de seguida partiu.
Leonor Hipólito /2021
______________________________________
Bem no início do crepúsculo,
quando os pássaros se ocupam a desenhar o céu,
largo a minha tristeza;
troco-a por um pedaço de cor à volta dos meus braços
e dou as boas-vindas ao que vier.
Mas logo a seguir questiono: a quê?
É no lusco-fusco que os meus sentidos se avivam
e todas as minhas tensões se vão.
Quando estás mais presente que nunca...
e eu caminho sob o céu violeta,
e as luzes da cidade ofuscam as estrelas, que mesmo assim consigo imaginar.
É neste estado de transição
que decido não querer decidir,
mas ser todas as tonalidades de rosa
/
In the very beginning of twilight,
when birds make the sky into a drawing,
I can briefly dismiss my sadness; I exchange it for acceptance.
Acceptance of what?, I soon inquire.
It is in the twilight that all my senses awake
and all my tensions dissipate.
When you are more present than ever...
and I walk under the violet sky,
and the city lights disguise the stars that I can imagine anyway.
It is in this in-between state that I decide I don't want to choose.
I want to be all shades of pink
and have nothing to regret.
Leonor Hipólito /2019
______________________________________
There must be a twist, an edge where I can see the other side, the front and the reverse in one single glance. There must be a tip to find, a corner to bend or perhaps to mend. A surface to walk on and to fall from. A line on which I can hang my thoughts whenever I feel tired and from which I swing in times of happiness.
There must be opportunities that I will expect amazed, surprises for which I will keep my eyes veiled and movements I will enact fully conscious.
If I walk will I defy motion?
Leonor Hipólito / 2011
poem published in the book Beyond Emotions
http://idembooks.com
http://idembookspublications.blogspot.com
Leonor Hipólito / 2020
poema publicado no livro Pena de Pavão
http://idembooks.com
http://idembookspublications.blogspot.com
Click here to read the text
Leonor Hipólito 2016/17
excerpt of the essay published in the book Looking at us looking at us
http://idembooks.com
http://idembookspublications.blogspot.com
______________________________________
Que permanecendo sem ser será
Silenciosa,
Desperta no alvorecer de cada sopro,
Abrindo janelas de vento, despindo fantasmas de ontem,
Sua domesticidade.
Então feroz, descobre-se nos pensamentos revoltos,
Nos dias e noites, sempre e por ora
Nos corações; Portas que batem estremecendo a terra
Solta, transforma-se.
De passo rebelde, sadia e caprichosa
Caminha sem remorso,
Recusando inspirar razões, pó, tijolos de história
Sobre folhas carcomidas por seres que mastigam, remoem, engolem
Leituras na escuridão sôfrega que a sua respiração sossega.
Eterna, silenciosa. Ostenta novo traje,
No alvorecer de cada sopro.
/
Without ever being becomes
Silent,
She awakes at the dawn of every breath,
Opening windows of wind, undressing ghosts of the past,
Her domesticity.
Then feral, she finds herself amongst untamed thoughts,
In days and nights, always and for now
In hearts; Slamming doors that shake the Earth
Free, she transfigures herself.
Defiant, lively and capricious,
She moves forward without remorse,
Refusing to waist her breath on reason, dust, bricks of history
On foliage eaten by those who keep chewing, ruminating, swallowing
Views from an insatiable gloom that she naturally appeases.
Eternal, silent. She flaunts a new garment,
At the dawn of every breath.
Leonor Hipólito 2017
______________________________________
______________________________________
The back of beyond
Late that evening,
Curtains hid scenes with other surfaces;
Expectation communing with distance, and I – a speck of space stretched beyond the limits of my chest
Moving forwards, with many other bodies
Emoting.
Like ice, floating in the waters of a river
Now loose fragments, oscillating through my eyes
That glaze seemed to hold feelings.
I wondered what would have happened if I had done what no one expected?
Blending in with the spaces in-between?!
I didn’t!
I remained suspended by the thread of no-nonsense
It was too late to change position, after all.
On the last page of my writing pad I wrote: Living demands taking position.
Leonor Hipólito / 2017
poem published in the book Writing Pad
http://idembooks.com
http://idembookspublications.blogspot.com
A while long enough to forget my worries,
They are powerful in concealing their subterranean nature,
Exuding calmness from a whirlpool of emotions,
Stirring my dreams, their longing?
Beneath the impeccable vitreous surface — They mirror
Nothing but a fantasy, having the colour of this poem.
They are also blue and bright.
Leonor Hipólito / 2019
_____________________________________
Leonor Hipólito / 2014
+ in http://elsewhereleonorhipolito.blogspot.com
My tongue – A stranger,
Blind to the margins of your target,
Hidden behind your manners,
It claims nothing but surprise
Acting.
Leonor Hipólito / 2017
poem published in the book Writing Pad
http://idembooks.com
http://idembookspublications.blogspot.com
O desejo, inerente à experiência humana, é um sentimento que nos move, por vezes dominando, que nos vitaliza, ou então definha ou mesmo aniquila. Sempre transformador, é para mim movimento, ação, projeção, subtração e adição ao mesmo tempo. Modela forma, corpo, rosto; amalgama-os, recria-os.
É a procura de algo que nos possa completar. Por conseguinte, é um sentimento que defino por movimento na direção da mudança. Que nos lança para a constante busca do sentido da nossa existência, projetando-nos no outro, fazendo com que reconheçamos no outro uma parte de nós. Mostra-nos que nos falta um pedaço e que, perante essa evidência, aspiramos encontrar o que ainda não somos, como se nos completássemos apenas com a mudança que traz consigo e, nesse nosso movimento em direção ao que pretendemos vir a ser, nos encontrássemos com o que em nós anda perdido.
It is a feeling that impels us to search for what we feel we are missing, presenting us the one we are yet to become. It is, therefore, a feeling that inspires reinvention, propelling us to question our own sense of being, and reflecting back to us the other we may recognise as complementary.
Falsa mudança
Em mim o tempo acelera, como se quisesse dizer-me algo de urgente sem que eu me aperceba o quanto demora a fazê-lo.
Leonor Hipólito / 2016
poema publicado no livro Sem retorno
http://idembooks.com
http://idembookspublications.blogspot.com
______________________________________
Quando o teu olhar se desvia sei que devo parar por aqui. Então afasto-me, consciente da distância que nos une, para poderes representar sem ser visto, por entre o meu espanto e a cortina opaca dos teus actos. Faço-o sabendo que é nesse intervalo que o nosso intento se despe.
Leonor Hipólito / 2017
In my tea, three spoons, please!
Honey drips
loose are the words...
Sweet drink, sweet talk...
Hesitating gestures
cradled cups.
My spoon swirls
mixing my thoughts as I speak
and the clock nailed on the wall
points out: got to go, got to go!
Leonor Hipólito / 2008
Poem published in the book überstein
http://idembooks.com
http://idembookspublications.blogspot.com
Around the landscape of your eyes
In the hide-and-seek of time,
Around the landscape of your eyes,
Walks the other with your steps,
Unfamiliar,
In disguise.
The stranger dresses the night,
Faceless,
Secretly,
His shadow, into your sleep
A curtain of mystery unfolds.
Leonor Hipólito / 2016
poem published in the book Looking at us looking at us
http://idembooks.com
http://idembookspublications.blogspot.com
______________________________________
In my neighbourhood birds make nests with my hair.
Leonor Hipólito / 2016
poem published in the book Looking at us looking at us
http://idembooks.com
http://idembookspublications.blogspot.com
______________________________________
Object for dreams
Sometimes whispers form my words
Sometimes is the absence of your words
Between me and you
Silence
Flirting with my thoughts
Stretching my soul
A breath of quietness
Promises
Dreams
______________________________________
Para sempre
Não preciso de frases, encontro-me no teu rosto.
Nessa renda de silêncio onde não guardo nada,
apenas o olhar,
transparência da minha sede.
O que não falas procuro na tua língua,
afluente e margem.
Ficará sempre tudo por dizer.
Leonor Hipólito / 2016
poema publicado no livro Sem retorno
http://idembooks.com
http://idembookspublications.blogspot.com
The sun stands still, burning like a bulb hanging from a ceiling. An endless ceiling that covers a crowd of people.The people move slowly, like their shadows on the pavement. Neither looking ahead nor having an attentive interest towards what surrounds them, they gaze at their own steps. Some count them, some don't even feel them. They move to somewhere. Nowhere.
Their feelings seem to be unstirred. Their moods black. Doomed by the sunset about to happen.
Anonymously for some hours the mass condenses in the city centre like a drop of motion about to evaporate. As the hours roll along, their shadows elongate, losing contours, fading away until they disappear.
The night erases the day and with it the steps they have traced. Steps that did not reach further than yesterday.
Leonor Hipólito / 2011
poem published in the book Beyond Emotions
http://idembooks.com
http://idembookspublications.blogspot.com
______________________________________
My fantasy is like the sweetest beast. It smells like earth and it is warm. When my hand strokes its fur I feel at home.
Leonor Hipólito / 2016
poem published in the book Looking at us looking at us
http://idembooks.com
http://idembookspublications.blogspot.com
______________________________________
I am thirsty,
in this deserted land of minds
A plant with thorns
My thoughts like droplets thrive
Shallow depths, this Land
stolen from the well of Life
Without words to seed the soil
Without whispers to bring the fortune
I am thirsty,
in this deserted land of minds
No one
is all around
Like a plant
in silence
holds the ground,
I close my eyes and drink the water
Leonor Hipólito / 2015
poem partly published in the book Writing Pad
http://idembooks.com
http://idembookspublications.blogspot.com
Red rugs
smuggle dirt
behind the shoulders
eyes can't see.
Flags with flowers
blind the windows.
Curtains are walls
without ears.
Does anyone fear the wind?
In the streets
blue balloons
fake the sky.
Pierced by the needles of the trees
hang a few.
The parade amasses
black suits.
Night.
On the sloping side of the hill
the rock is hard.
Leonor Hipólito / 2015
What no longer serves a purpose change it. I would call that a mindful revolution.
Leonor Hipólito / 2015
______________________________________
Art is not an idea or a story upon which one identity is formed.
Arts is not the expectation of a position and its assurance.
Art
is not an image to associate to or separate from. It does not limit
opinion or define trends. It does not complete what is in progress. It
does not claim to explain the indescribable. It does not pretend what it
is.
Art is potential through which we can envision the unseen.
Leonor Hipólito / 2015
______________________________________
One can either opt for stepping forward or leave everything behind.
I guess I'd reached a state of borderline.
Leonor Hipólito / 2008
poem published in the book überstein
http://idembooks.com
http://idembookspublications.blogspot.com
______________________________________
Ao olhar para ele sorri,
como se o canto dos seus lábios puxassem os meus.
Leonor Hipólito / 2011
______________________________________
Romance
I am spiralling around a fantasy,
holding it so to be my frame of mind.
Faint is the picture
and formless are the feelings.
Call it romance.
Leonor Hipólito / 2007
______________________________________
Domestic
Tools, with limbs and mouth,
grasp and bite the desire
Fanged fork
Bifurcated knife
The hot air stirs the blood
In a large basin feelings are held between the crust and the fluid
A cloth with a fissure respires
Routine in the routine
The mind, a frame
Home,
golden gate without knob,
private landscape of life.
Leonor Hipólito / 2013
poem published in the book Looking at us looking at us
http://idembooks.com
http://idembookspublications.blogspot.com
______________________________________
My everything is nothing but a dream
I know is flesh, blood, me.
Leonor Hipólito / 2006
______________________________________
Legacy
(waiting)
– words to be told
Anticipating
Piled (together)
no image
There's my landscape.
Leonor Hipólito / 2014
______________________________________
_____________________________________
(hours in a row)
immersing into a vision
that seems possible to hold (to be told)
The surface of the paper – scratched –
Leonor Hipólito / 2014
______________________________________
Não tenho nada a dizer
a não ser o que sinto
quando omisso
o meu pensamento vagueia à procura de ti.
Leonor Hipólito / 2012
In Preto
______________________________________
The warmth of the morning's breeze announced the arrival of a pleasant day.
The sky, plain and bright like an enormous mirror, reflected my mood as I drove to work.
The hours passed and the night smoothly appeared.
Suddenly I awoke.
Leonor Hipólito / 2008
poem published in the book überstein
http://idembooks.com
http://idembookspublications.blogspot.com
______________________________________
Corpo vestido de corpo,
disfarçado com a pele de outro,
descosido da sua forma,
sem morada.
Várias identidades
numa só personalidade.
Corpo que não o é
porque não se revê no rosto
que o olha sem hesitar,
porque nos seus gestos
o dedo aponta
para a cicatriz que não sara,
que nele se aloja
e o faz sentir.
Existe.
Precisa.
Corpo sem outro
para além dele próprio.
Perdido na ilusão
que lhe revela a verdade.
Sem propósito,
espera por si.
Leonor Hipólito / 2012
poema publicado no livro Preto
___________________________________
Thin line
There is a thin line between the steps
spinning
back and forth
Weaving the old with the new
Between the fingers from where gestures depart
This line,
thin, but not fragile,
twists in loops
Endlessly
Sometimes it thickens
Sways by emotion
Leonor Hipólito / 2012
______________________________________
like a bird nest – skilful in deed and hairdo.
I keep a little bird nest inside a round box.
It was found empty in the woods,
handed to me as a gift.
I wonder which flock of little birds had lived there.
Tiny, feathery, branchy home – mesh of delicacy.
Sometimes, I hold the box in my hands.
Open it carefully.
Let my thoughts fly.
I saw her the other day again.
She had long strands waving free.
Leonor Hipólito / 2014
______________________________________
In-corporation
I attempt to draw myself
At first, I draw my head,
curve after curve
A circle
A line
My throat
I reach the lungs,
a sketch of leaves in the Autumn
My trunk is thin and long, two lines - parallel
At last, I reach the base
I trace a road of lines,
intricate patterns forming my ground
Finishing my drawing
Before my eyes
I contemplate
the tree I am.
Leonor Hipólito / 2006
poem published in the book Looking at us looking at us
http://idembooks.com
http://idembookspublications.blogspot.com
______________________________________
Human patterns
A moment of silence,
An intermittent but endless line of silence.
A blank space our mind can fill in with thoughts.
Stories embodied in fragments of repetition,
Memories looped in a waiting line.
How many seconds make a moment?
We might fold the line into a circle while time keeps slipping away.
Leonor Hipólito / 2008
______________________________________
Cicatriz na folha de um cacto;
estigma profundo
corta a suavidade ao toque.
Na tenra superfície
complacência sulca em forma de palavra
o que alguém não encontrou no silêncio.
Leonor Hipólito / 2012
______________________________________
Time flies while I am thirsty
Searching for an excuse to fill in the pause I make.
I try to match my slow-moving mind with the turning of the hours which give me no boundaries but demand objectivity.
My attempt to fit moments into a logical sequence slips off the hands of time.
I
fold each moment separately or together according to their dimensions
and orientate my next steps from the lines of their folds.
I am tired.
Time keeps flying while I am hungry
Tiptoeing
Searching for a trick to catch it
But if I won't
Time will remain where I am.
Leonor Hipólito / 2011
poem published in the book Beyond Emotions
http://idembooks.com
http://idembookspublications.blogspot.com
______________________________________
______________________________________
Lab
Leonor Hipólito / 2009