Um poema para a Ester

Imagino para ti

Que tornes noites de insonia 

em dias que escolhes ver o sol nascer entre as montanhas 

Aconchegadinha em casacos e chapeus de conforto 

Imagino para ti

Que vivas as montanhas la de cima em dias de sol com neve branca que reflete a luz de esperanca que tanto procuras.

Imagino para ti

Que escrevas e vivas todas as emocoes em lugares dentro de ti que ainda nao exploraste. 

E que depois te maravilhes com uma folha a flutuar no lago.

E com um passaro simplesmente a abrir as asas, porque tu sabes e aprecias a sua escolha para voar dali para fora!

E bebes agua consciente que fazes parte do seu ciclo e pertences ainda mais ao mundo natural. 

Rusty Tyne Bridge

Magnificent patterns 

Of rusty metal

Decorate this bridge

Weakening it’s structure 

Loosening it’s bolts 

Telling a story of wear and tear

Showing pride, like tattoos

But they happen to be scars

Of a battled past

Time in itself does that…

Generations cross it 

Each of them carrying more

Unfelt imperfections 

And unhealed cuts and bruises.

How long can this bridge go

Without rejuvenating;

Without love?

I risk to cross it

I walk towards you

In fear of falling 

In fear of the bridge

Not taking my heavy heart…

Fast waters underneath 

Threaten to wash away

Memories and emotions

And take me away

Into the depths of the oceans. 

It’s okay if so.

I’ll turn into an octopus 

Dancing in the floating waters

Splashing sand like glitter 

Changing colours like clothes

And collecting precious rocks.

(26.05.2024)

Margarida Ventura

A Lassie’s Envy

I stand with my eyes closed 

Imagining your breath slowly steaming my eyes

The moist breeze in my neck 

Makes me shiver and get closer for warmth and comfort 

Longing your touch 

Longing your voice saying my name

The bottle of whiskey steams too 

In your breath of appreciation.

I’m jealous!

I don’t taste like peaty exotic honey. 

Do I make your lips tingle like her?

Please swallow me in slow sips, 

In between the fast chords of your guitar, like you do to her…

Take your time in my sweet lips too

And then leave me again…

Put me down on the table, waiting for another thirst spell! 

I’ll just be watching you play. 

In the dark cold nights of deep introspection, 

You can swallow me in big gulps 

I’ll make you dizzy and dazed, 

With lost loose thoughts of ‘maybes’ and ‘what ifs’. 

I’ll make you feel better.

But I know I just won’t wash your throat with the same warmth 

I know I just won’t make you long for me the same way. 

(A poem for a Burns Night competition for Malt of whiskey- submitted on 28th January 2024)

The Arms of the Tree

 

I want the arms of this tree

To hold me so tight that it stops my breathing and my brain and heart slows for a second.

To hold me so tight that even if I fight to go, it just won’t let me and it tells me to stay.

To hold me so tight that it renews my breathing with new oxygen it produces. 

To hold me so tight that, eventually, I just rest there, still… waiting for the apple to fall on my head in a late summer night. And the skies and the weather change around me. And I’m still there, and the tree is still there. 

I want the light of this moon, to be like the light in your eyes when you look at me. 

Not necessarily as bright as the stars, but at least the reflection of my own light and proximity to you. 

I want to feel the multiple branches embracing my fears in the stillness of the night… so my body finally feels safe. 

By Margarida Ventura 

Grief

Today my baby would have been walking; wobbling with confidence across the room. 

They would be talking some words and simple phrases filled with meaning and mistakes, given their raw interpretation of the world. Like a poet, trying to make sense of life with words…

I would be laughing and cherishing them with all my heart.

Instead… I make shapes of hearts with my hands, where your short life was…

I hold my belly with the same gentle care I held you. 

I cuddle my body that failed me, the same body I have learned to love again. The body I dance with, creating beautiful shapes in the air… The body that runs and skates around to try to find joy in life. 

Today I’ve cried, but I know I will also laugh. 

Dear cake tin (Poem)

Dear cake tin

You carry sweetness and love 

Backwards and forwards

You have visited many houses, 

but always return home, 

from a couple of pleased hands and a smile

In a box, a magic potion of ingredients have been mixed and baked into treasures of flavour 

You must have your own favourite delight

But you’ll carry any experience the same way as any other, with strength and care, 

Light in weight and heavy in experiences

I wish you always full of wonders and never with deceiving emptiness.

Margarida Ventura

Performed on 25th June at Mosaic Tap

Lego pieces

Human connections…

They break you and they build you 

in no apparent order…

Every time you have to put the puzzle pieces together,

You get better and better at it.

The Lego pieces are shattered on the floor…

And hurt my feet as I try to move forward. 

Ouch! 

But the more I build, 

The less pieces are left behind to hurt me, over and over… 

I am building my puzzle with a solid foundation… 

So, when the elements of life try to knock it over, less pieces will leave my construction!

Only some, or none will be falling!

And I’m still whole and recognisable!

I can then walk without worry of pain, 

Without worrying about my pieces left behind on the floor… 

I’ll just move forward at my steady pace, passionate for life and hopeful for the future!

Margarida Ventura

10th August 2023

About another heartbreak…