Thursday, October 29, 2015

Mother is the Maker

Mother is the maker
of marrow and milk:
the strength of bones,
the soft of silk.
Her sweetly singing morning graces
bless the faces of the loved.
Resting, nesting, loved.

Mother is the maker
of moral and mind:
the reason in virtue,
the rightful kind.
Her timely, true compelling voices
guide the choices of her loved.
Reaching, teaching, loved.

Mother is the maker
of memory mine:
the place of creation,
the power divine.

Bless the maker of mothers, loved
and bless my mother, maker, loved.

DGM, 10 May 2015
(written for my mother on mother's day)

Escrever

Necessito do que é escrito.
Este conflito dentro de mim.
Sim.
Insatisfeito em meu peito
Dá me jeito das canetas
Para inventar planetas.

DGM, 2014

Tuesday, October 27, 2015

ACME

Jeff says
the definition of ACME is excellence.

So I say:
Whack me!
Try to crack me with your wacky mathematics.
Stack me against the odds
because rods and cones deceive
but if you believe and back me up
I will still be here
making my career of questions
and solutions to this pollution of problems in our world.

They rack me with torment,
a torrent trying to attack me.
But track me because I’m going far.
As you pack me with power
the knowledge of the hour
will devour the competition
as I petition for more repetition.
Smack me with problems resolved recursively.
Smack me with problems resolved.
Smack me with problems.
Smack me with.
Smack me.
Smack.
Sack me if you can, but my plan
is to rid the world of wrong
with songs of algorithmic melodies
both beautiful and brave
they will save time, money and lives.
Practice is my path of choice
toward the quiet voice of quality
calling me to come and finally see
what I can be.

So bring it on!
Hack me
and make me better
by being truthful and ruthless
rigorous
defined
and intense.

Welcome to the ACME of excellence.

—DGM, 30 April 2015

Saturday, March 21, 2015

13

Saudades


Devo prestar atenção
Porque em corpo estou aqui.
Mas o coração me leva
à terra de Moçambique.


—Míler, 1 Março 2015

12

Erro

em erro te apanhou
quer dizer apanhei
eu não sei que falei
ainda mais que falou

—Míler, 2014

Este é meu segundo poema estrito na língua portuguesa.

11

Criação


Sou Cientista
tentando criar a beleza.
É muito mais difícil criar
do que é pra achar


Mas agora, epa!
Basta criar uma beleza
só para dizer que a fiz
com minhas mãos.


Prontos.


A vida do cientista é assim mesmo.

—Míler, 2014

Este é meu primeiro poema escrito na língua portuguesa.

10

Uma boa pintura

Começávamos
e andando transpirávamos
o rumo à nossa frente
que custávamos a mente
de repente se arrebentou
e logo repousou
nos corpos que habitávamos
pois, então descansávamos
e ficávamos
essa obra de mestre
no rumo silvestre.


—Míler, Fevereiro 2015