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When he’s not in the garden, Joao Luiz pens poetry in English and Portuguese. Below are some of his collected poems. Let him know if you enjoy his poems and have any publishing connections!
| | Sunflower
By the old stone wall, Where chipmunks disappear And the garden bed’s undone, A single yellow flower Turns its face toward the sun.
Beyond the wall Are fields of cities And the whispering world of trees.
But here, While my garden counts the seasons Framed by the old stone wall, The grace of the sunflower summons, Grows alone, strong and tall.
Joao Luiz Vieira de Castro, 2005 | | | |
M. Parrish Sky
Sunday afternoon, Six o’clock. The sun burns away the sky Projects its glory On bricked facades and granite block.
Sunday afternoon, Before the blue rain. The sun blushes away the day Retains its winter melancholy On a cold window-pane.
Sunday afternoon, Almost dark. The sun drags the day away Reflects its glowing solitude On the wind-emptied park.
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Ignis Ardens Love is a ruby flower Burning ardent inside my heart, It's a pain that doesn’t leave scars, It is agony; it is clamor;
This love that tears me apart. If it were a sound, a song A profession of faith, A French film noir by Goddard
Maybe it wouldn’t hurt more than a warm tear Running down my face towards my mouth So thirsty for such love…
But this love is fire that ignites me, It is fever; it’s incandescent gold Inside this heart of mine rusty and cold.
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Of Flowers and Great Love
Drying flowers in a book Isn't so sad When the flowers bloom of a great love. Years inside a book, the flowers dry, Love doesn’t For the memories of a great love are always moist.
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Yellow Gladiolas
Carlos, The red wheelbarrow of your poetry Never rusted Under the summer rain
And the white chickens Still scratch around In the back yard
Where gladiolas Bloom yellow By an old barn.
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