Five Poems from Rose – Editor’s Pick

Satellite Beach

Sunshower days 
foretelling magical 
nights.

Moonbow risings
spray of mendicant 
waves.

Heaven’s inner gates  
thrust wide open by
beams of liquid light.

Creatures with supefluous
bodies finding stress relief
in seclusion and separation.

The problem of death solved
in the peaceful coexistence 
of body and soul.

All come to Satellite Beach.

Others too, with numerous 
names, infinite charmed 
form, diaphanous beings.

Opaque beings, human and
higher. Lower winged figures
playing framed drums.

Hellish sorcerers with
infuriated mouths. 

Immortal birds, red 
dragons, demigods.

All come to Satellite Beach.

All forget their fate refuse
resistance against nature’s
works.

On that night when day 
is sunshower at
Satellite Beach.
Uirapuru, Amazon Wren

The bird that is not 
a bird sings 
the songs
that a bird 
cannot 

The bird that is not
a bird sings
with great 
clarity and
timbre

The bird that is not
a bird sings with
pace of power 
and lyrical
delicacy 

The bird that is not
a bird sings with
delirious harmonies
whistling litanies
intoxicating trills
dazzling chirps

then, a pointed
silent refrain. 

The bird that is not
a bird hushes the
rainforest when
the premature 
spring cascades

The wren of all pubs
sings of serenity how
he discovered giant
canopies veiling
solar rays

How he learned through
trial and error to calm 
his mind with song

The king of love 
has mastered the
tupian tongue,
twitters with ease
of breath:

“Casa Suja, Chão Sujo”

Kings and queens seek 
a sprig of his feathers,
one fragment of his nest,
his wishboned relics to
keep locked in chests
of drawers

The musician wren
warbles legendary 
cantigas of luminous joy
that awaken stunned hearts
and vagrant snakes on 
treetops

Solitary bird, with low
belly, perches faithfully
on evanescent branches 
of colossal andiroba

The soloist finds comfort
in its own lifted chest
evokes symphones
with one breath 
recites poems
of tonal purity:

Uirapuru 
Solo,

Maverick, 
Op. 26. 

Serenader of the lower Amazon
gives indelible vanilla scents to
the cumaru makes the cupuaçu 
fruit less pungent
.
The bird that is not
a bird sings because
disquiet hearts doubt 
all notions of
everlasting 
happiness

Because mortals
do not know how
to claim their
own how to create
permanence

The Butterfly Lovers’ Erhu Concerto

They appeared from
A lacrimoso cocoon
 
In a subway
cloister rushing hours
 
on the eight street line
A Penoso adagio
 
 Performed by
A sphinx man
 
Unseeing face
But playing
 
as multi-armed asura,
the demigods 

a strange stringed-
long neck violin.
 
Like when someone chooses
With a high note
 
To end the edges
of time.
 
A fallen traveller 
transformed 

into an entranced
tune
 
As the coins cascaded
On the musician’s instrument case
 
All those who entered the train
Could see a pair
 
of Yellow River butterflies
flying over the dark hours
 
In fast frenetic cadence
In such natural
triumph 
Rain’s Spiritual Frame-Drum, Daf
for my Sufi Master Safer Efendi

Thrashing
On the glass
 
the rain
discovers
a surprising
tempo of calm
 
On the edge
On the center
Of the window
The rain
 
strikes
its finger tips
loud and sharp
 
The rain
Soft and obtuse
Strikes its finger tips
 
On the glass window
Daf-like translucent
Goat skin Membrane
The large frame-drum
 
A slippery surface
As happiness
All around
 
The rain rhythm
Interspaced with
sounds of shimmering
rings inside a spiritual
framed-drum
 
 striking
its rain finger tips
loud and sharp
Soft and pervasive
Against the glass
 
The intermittent
mute flashing
Lights
 
from portable
Thunders afar
secluded, restrained
 
when the rain
ceases
to be rain
 
Ah!
to be just a heart
That can’t take
Any form or shape
 
Quiet, solid, bare
Alone
Without the rain
 
Inside which
I came to see a happiness
Always there.
Jesus Bird
Wattled Jaçanã,
 
 Jesus bird
Walks on
the wetlands.
 
The solitaire
jaçanã 
with undivided attention
 
Walks over, tiptoeing
with long toes the aquatic weeds,
 
floating camalotes
of water Hyacinths
 
Jesus bird
Walks on
the Victoria regia,
 
the giant round carpet
avocado green leaves
 
to scent the
white fruity lilies
fragrance?
 
Jesus bird
Walks 
the way the moonlight
Walks on the bayous,
Pantanal ol’en sea.

*****

Roseangelina Baptista is a Brazilian-American poet based in Central Florida. A medical doctor of Portuguese ancestry, she opted for a literary path instead.

As a self-translator she explores the linguistic perspective of bilingualism as a literary phenomenon. Her poems appear in The Joao Roque Literary Journal, Adelaide Literary Award Anthology, IV Antologia de Poetas Lusofonos na Diaspora.  As a member of the Space Coast Writers’ Guild Poetry Committee, she has launched a series of initiatives to promote local poetry.  Her interests also include Suminagashi paper marbling, meditation, and Sumi-e paintings.