Armando Taborda's most commented articles

Roads of my country drive me back to dreams where I grew up before I die blind from the same unbearable light. Estradas do meu país levem-me de volta aos sonhos onde cresci antes que morra cego da mesma insustentável luz. In "SonhoGrafias", Universitária Editora, 2000 www.ipernity.com/doc/armando.taborda/album/31858

There are dogs everywhere hideous stinking four feet ordinary mongrels. Starved they look for grasshoppers and other flying jumpers' proteins. Shaky movement is on their decalcified bones and endemic mycosis colonially spreading from the feet nodules to other tips. For them to be on the asphalt of Bissau streets is to find the night in shadows of trees planted in craters and by night they remain there in tribes that have in common bellies crawling on freshness. T…

From the Arctic Circle comes an insidious wind God's blow destiny of death the cold paralyzes the body afterwards the being releases the soul. The fireplace warms the revived being at the flames' flicker the soul dances before coming back into the body. Do círculo polar árctico vem um insidioso vento…

Feel the hard and hot sun irradiating from the shop window's glasses and coaches parked on all lanes or sidewalks at the Benfica's avenue where I live close to the Park of Monsanto shades on the other side of the building's forest where the halo of passed rains refreshes my memory. Sentir o sol que irradia duro e quente dos vidros das montras e carroçarias dos automóveis estacionados por tudo o que é rua ou passeio na…

The sea is an ocean's arm and the ocean an earth's body spacecraft without astrolabe nor sextant neither science of sails winds and currents drifted in the infinity's tides looking for what seaport or yacht club for an intermediate stop in the space where everything happens as it was nothing? (to read the original Portuguese version please click on the figure) by…

(50 years later) To read the original Portuguese version click on the picture To read the English version click on www.ipernity.com/blog/armando.taborda/59512 where this same text was firstly edited Illustration by Fernando Grade by Armando TABORDA, in "VIOLA DELTA", Volume XLVII, Mic Editors & Authors, 2010 (1st edition, 2010; 2nd edition, 2018)

God appears through the music that transcends us overlapping the text poem context from the very thought in melodies sounds invisible rhythm universal anti-matter chaotic emotion surfing without any meaning through days and nights of our solitude. Deus revela-se na música que nos transcende e se sobrepõe ao texto poema contex…

Yesterday in the coronary-graphic' screen I saw ways of my inner body fat calcifications and other squeezes trying to prevent the catheter progression looking for my soul that after all I didn't see. Ontem no monitor da coronariografia vi caminhos no interior do meu corpo artérias pulsando sangue gordura calcificações e outros apertos tentando impedir a progressão do cateter à procura de minha alma…

I'm getting lost through crossed ways complex deflections infinite paths I don't come back nor I run away from future of uncertain ways complex fears infinite dreams. Determined I carry on and stumble I fall to the ground and stay moribund herald of the time being my face drowns in shade and the sun on my image's back already without soul through crossed wa…

Under cardiac throb the seconds' pointer sums the minutes of the hours at the life's screen measured by the watch even if time doesn't exist and cheats us covering the space escape in expansion. O ponteiro dos segundos em seu pulsar cardíaco soma os minutos das horas no mostrador da vida que o relógio de pulso mede mesmo que o tempo não exista e seja um embus…

From the to be or not to be discussion the liberty was still feasible. Obscurantist spikes germinated on the fields among tired arms of the classes struggle machines reaped everything. In the factory production graphs expressed the boss' exploitation soon after there were no graphs neither production nor boss. Cybernetics was ignored in the impasse either for budget deficit or by any growing excess of ignorance in the city.…

Amnesia sounds persecute your gutter's memory. Hybrid parables meddle in the allegro moderato of the initial daybreak fantastic inhibited suffered repeated and from being so beautiful the second movement still repeats the twilight at the madness' horizon. (to read the Portuguese original version click on the picture) by Armando TABORDA…

One hour of battery remains to write what I don't know nor if the time is enough. An allegory's project crosses my brain looking for a voice or a keyboard. Right now wording floats white cloud up above the closed mobile personal computer. (to read the Portuguese original version click on the picture) by Armando Taborda, unpublished text, 2009

Nightfall rumble imprecation to the sun solidity in the water's penury remains of useless prayer in the soul's disquiet dodecaphonic symphony at the homecoming. Rumor da tarde imprecação à solidez do sol na penúria de água despojo de oração inútil na inquietude da alma sinfonia dodecafónica no regresso a casa. by Armando TABORDA, in "PALAVR…

I am mystic not cabalistic support of signs numerals prior arranged serials to cover obscure intentions the naked truth is I am cabalistic of 0 and its null result which can't be defined because it's equal to nothing of any invented illusion. Sou místico não cabalístico suporte de sinais algarismos e séries previamente ordenadas para encobrir obscuras intenções…

"the supreme good of writing is the silence" (a taborda) Another book by one of the best Portuguese poetic voices. The author makes her incessant writing a redundant and vital act, in the systematic search for silence that pacifies and puts her to sleep. It's not that her life, that of others, and the environments surrounding her don't add frequent emotions to her skin (the music is recurrent), but the bitterness is perenial, and also the astonishement of still being alive. It's…

Speaking to me addiction while I write to me in comma's solitude hindrances of thought in dots' silence paragraphs of everything weaved in the game of words that we lose cause we repeat things that pressure the blood too much more than veins and the beds where we silently fall asleep don't belong to us. Vício de falar de mim quando escrevo para mim na solidã…

Painful reflections on fire the sky is an all time martyr in the landscape' silence over the horizon and our lifted heads saying a pray nobody hear asking the miracle everybody see. Reflexos pungentes ardentes o céu é mártir todos os dias no silêncio da paisagem sobre o horizonte e nossas cabeças erguidas rezando orações que ninguém ouve pedindo o milagre que todos vemos.…

The silence I talk about is not human only the astronauts know the wonder of the perfect abyss the solitude without fear the multidimensional mystery. O silêncio de que falo não é humano só os astronautas sabem do fascínio do abismo perfeito da solidão sem medo do pluridimensional mistério. by Armando TABORDA, i n "MANUAL DO DESPERDÍCIO", Ceres Editora, 1994 (post 1st edition, 2011; 2nd edi…

I suffer from goiter of silent things in the throat as a fire ball under clouds opacity I wish to cry out decibels that engrave Vergílio Ferreira in the explanation of invented emotions in generous narcissism that nothing adds to the nothing we have tiring and enervating destiny we get older repeated acts we die dangers answering to fear and all the rest everything else that kill us. Sofro do bócio das coisas calad…