13 May 2019

I feel

I feel so strongly the scent of yearning we feed on its juice and pulp invent comics with us as the heroes

I feel like a dead dolphin disgorged by the ocean we yearn for days with a sunny smile

you are my protein and water a surrogate quenching the acid of life dancing on the waves with another dolphin

-why do we like to escape into solitude?

O feel Katarina Lavmel (translaton Graham Crawford)

13 May 2019

On the cliffs

On the cliffs of the Algarve we breathe – deeply
the wings of the untamed wind
and dreams cease to be merely waves
I let the ocean lift you and I
without maps, compass or the compromise of buoys

we count no more the lanterns in the sky –
the night is no stranger even to lost seabirds
we sail in triumph with sheets unfurled
pushed through the morning mists

behind the cliffs thoughts swirl
too much carbon dioxide –
ecologists rebuke us (mercilessly)
for these flames that blaze
without limit sparking in our hearts

Translation Graham Crawford
Anturaż, FONT 2019

13 May 2019

You don’t know

Anna… with the big heart and beautiful soul

You don’t know that I smooth your dream
curled up tight in bed
hair straggled across the pillow
like a skipping rope tossed on a playground

when you were five
wise eyes kept asking

thank you for the time you give us
so I might return to answer
find a strong me in you
and the defencelessness of an embryo
might close us up in a box and carry us
up to the attic

and take me by the hand – as before

Translation Graham Crawford
Anturaż, FONT 2019

13 May 2019

Which colours

For Kamila…who looks, sees, feels

Which colours to label the emotions
when your daughter gives you a book
titled You’re wonderful

with the dedication I love you
all life’s dilemmas dissolve
and a golden rain descends
you fall asleep as if drugged
as the scent of sweet peas once
a smile remains on your pyjamas, skin and bedlinen
to lead you by the hand through the day

you awake – a tree covered in buds

Translation Graham Crawford
Anturaż, FONT 2019

13 May 2019

The ten commandments at forty

The ten commandments at forty

just don’t stiffen up

laboriously build muscle tissue
and intellect at the gym

go against the flow –
counter to the curious drivers

raise people’s blood pressures
and tolerance levels

if torturing your brain
use a book – not a soap opera

cool the intellect without getting cold feet

ignore flab and cellulite

complexes – apply balm
but only at their funeral

believe in the poor man
with the swollen face

love others without illusion
like your reflection (furtively)
in your compact mirror

Translation Graham Crawford
Anturaż, FONT 2019

13 May 2019

Spell from the ocean

Spell from the ocean

and I shall
caress her
honour and respect her
lyrically and non-lyrically

she is the one
plucked from the waves of dreams in Tavira
carried here by the ocean

a musical shell
a non-Aphrodite
my uncybernetic love

Translation Graham Crawford
Anturaż, FONT 2019

13 May 2019


Mishaps the psychologist blocks my fears
the psychiatrist befuddles my unease
I do not toss these feelings at them
though like chains
they drag me across the flagstones to the abyss

I have given up burning bridges
yet the town still breathes smoke
the tablets have sharpened my eyes
to the kids from the high-rise estates and the brief idyll
once they’ve eaten sweets off strangers

parents helplessly spread their arms
the fridges are almost always bare
morning – eight sharp
the bus stop teems with corpo-people
with bags stuffed full of cyber-worlds

the estate observes – this woman –
world champion of mishap
(this title is perpetual)

on a triple dose
my depression carries life
into an extra-planetary space

I gaze into the foam and the waves
I shall breathe deeply

at the bottom of the ocean

Translation Graham Crawford
Anturaż, FONT 2019

13 May 2019


Ocho why does the tango have no limits –
beginning or end
perhaps it’s a binary system?
(like a grizzly and a ballet dancer)
you know only a few steps
yet he spins you mercilessly –
you whirl
toes stepped on you freeze momentarily
you submit to the velvety gentleness
let it lead seduce fate

we mark out moments in dance
that glint in the eye
breath like a hummingbird’s flight

I trust…
what matters is to be in your arms

Translation Graham Crawford
Anturaż, FONT 2019

13 May 2019

I didn’t see you coming

I didn’t see you coming

today I saw with my own eyes
wading though files photos mails
I waded through overgrown smses
gazed into eyes like gills
and I thought: healthy

pink lips like spawn in a cavity
promised much –
a body to equal the intellect

once in the Venetian square
fathers offered their daughters for sale –
hawked them… in the name of their happiness
now they happily offer themselves for auction
all it takes is a few crafty clicks on Photoshop

today I saw you with my own eyes
pushed through the paths
(desires and delights)
scents I desired to feel
to discover under your skin and wrist
parting the folds of the dress
to smooth the pulp
squeeze out pips of sensitivity
touch the core of the promise

today I saw you with my own eyes –
there was an emptiness

barrenness in a shell
like the files of words mothered by

Translation Graham Crawford
Anturaż, FONT 2019

10 May 2019

What if… the moon was the size of a pixel

What if… the moon was the size of a pixel
it would be as large as a dull-witted man
(a drop of blood on the skin)
dangle upwards, like Neil Armstrong
and the gold glow of such a moon
would warm me
as if you were physically beside me
are mirages real? the iguanas are near
with glasses on or without
do you feel? – it’s a rosary
from Fatima the scent of the sandalwood tree
will embrace in the night
more than just our fingers

Translation Graham Crawford