terça-feira, 13 de novembro de 2018

                                           Amor. Da minha vida
                                                            Amor. Da minha vida
                                                            Penso que não sabes
                                                            Se pudesse abriria teu sorriso
                                                            e morava nos teus olhos
                                                            e iríamos por onde fomos
                                                            em tantos dias
                                                            em tantas noites
                                                            em vontades absurdas
                                                            Das estradas que abrimos
                                                            Personagens onde somos
                                                            Cenário de um para o outro
                                                            faíscas do desejo
                                                            impulso do sentires
                                                            Sinto-te
                                                            Sentes-me
                                                            pedaço teu
                                                            Amor da tua vida


                                                                              São Paulo 13.11.2018
                                                                              Maria José Sales Calado
                                                                              Tela: Francisco Simões

terça-feira, 6 de novembro de 2018

                                     Digressão
                                                    Digressão
                                                    Digo-te vens
                                                    Vens, ver-me
                                                    De onde vens
                                                    Quem és tu
                                                    És porta entreaberta
                                                    Um cheiro de noite
                                                    De pele arrepiada
                                                    Corpo que estremece
                                                    nas minhas mãos
                                                    Abraço que encaixa-se
                                                    Ah! Em que rua tua vida
                                                    foi encontrar-se com a minha
                                                    E se asas eu tivesse que me
                                                    fizessem voar
                                                    Eu correria para perto de ti
                                                    Pernoitas não vás, ficas
                                                    a noite deita-se devagar
                                                    Demora-te um pouco mais
                                                    os sonhos não recolheram-se
                                                    Sou alguém um pedaço de terra
                                                    um luar perdido no chão.


                                                                   Maria José Sales Calado / 02.11.2018

                                                                   São Paulo / SP / Brasil
                                                                   Quadro: Isabel Contreras Botelho

quarta-feira, 24 de outubro de 2018

                                    Sonho
                                                   Sonho
                                                   Sonho contigo
                                                   Caminho contigo
                                                   Todos os sonhos
                                                   De outros sonhos
                                                   De olhos fechados
                                                   pássaro habita-me
                                                   em maiores voos
                                                   em menores voos
                                                   em voos vertiginosos
                                                   Pego carona nas asas
                                                   emprestadas do imaginário
                                                   Pouso na beirada do sonho
                                                   Pássaro eu sou, no meu voo
                                                   pouso na folhagem verde vida
                                                   Quando escrevo-me nas nuvens
                                                   faço meus( teus) poemas azuis
                                                   onde invento-te em noites febris
                                                   adormeço o sol do dia seguinte
                                                   Tu me dás asas para voo maior
                                                   asas cabem inteiras nas costas
                                                   voos nascem de dentro pra fora
                                                   mulher rosto marcado de sonho

 
                                                                   Maria Jose Salles Callado / 08.10.18
                                                                   Foto: MJSC / Consultório Pediátrico

                                                                   São Paulo / SP / Brasil

terça-feira, 9 de outubro de 2018

                                  Mulher
                                                Mulher
                                                Vento
                                                Terra
                                                Fogo
                                                Corpo
                                                Quente
                                                Mulher
                                                Pele
                                                Úmida
                                                Molhada
                                                De desejo
                                                De cheiros
                                                Do ter que ser
                                                Quem tu és
                                                Terra quente
                                                Rosto do amor
                                                Ensejo ou desejo
                                                Demônio ou Anjo
                                                Vento que se solta
                                                Mulher que sabe voar
                                                Rosto de todos os rostos
                                                Mulher máscara de vidro
                                                Mulher moradia de mim.


                                                Maria José Sales Calado / 06.10.2018

                                                Foto: Pamela Tea / Roma - Itália

terça-feira, 2 de outubro de 2018

                                           Voo do caminho
                                                            Voo do caminho
                                                            Chegastes
                                                            e te esperei
                                                            Antes do ser
                                                            Serias antes do chegar
                                                            Chegastes sem ter chegado
                                                            Quero estar, onde tu estás
                                                            E ser-te voo do caminho
                                                            Encontro-te, sem te encontrar
                                                            Sou apenas um porquê querer
                                                            Uma ausência nas mãos
                                                            Mais um eu inconstante
                                                            Teu corpo tem muito de mim
                                                            vou até o outro lado do sermos
                                                            onde contigo sou o que somos
                                                            vida que corre debaixo da pele
                                                            em arrepios envolventes
                                                            Abro a porta que dá acesso ao rosto
                                                            da figura do meu imensurável azul


                                                                              Maria Jose Sales Calado / 27.09.2018
                                                                              Foto: MJSC / Holambra - Expo Flora / SP

terça-feira, 18 de setembro de 2018

                                           Os Passos
                                                            Os Passos
                                                            Vão pelas ruas
                                                            Calçadas, esquinas
                                                            Pés descalços, chão
                                                            De onde vens?
                                                            Vamos para onde?
                                                            Vou morar-te
                                                            Existe-me
                                                            Caminhemos
                                                            Haja momentos
                                                            e sei que sabes
                                                            é em ti que penso
                                                            em todas as coisas
                                                            quando chega a noite
                                                            quando passa o vento
                                                            quando pássaros cantam
                                                            Haja amor, passeio em nós
                                                            Abro a porta da rua tempo
                                                            e reaparece-me
                                                            E faz-se noite no amor


                                                                              Maria José Sales Calado / 13.09.2018
                                                                              Foto: MJSC / Holambra / SP

terça-feira, 4 de setembro de 2018

                                  Estação amor
                                               Estação amor
                                               Primavera, flores cores
                                               arco-íris cores do amor
                                               desabrocham em mim
                                               Não apago tua ausência
                                               fome, ternura, urgência
                                               Desejo solto de mim
                                               Escuto no silêncio
                                               Penso quase alto
                                               Vens, digas de onde?
                                               De onde vens?
                                               dos meus sonhos
                                               do inconsciente colorido
                                               das coisas que hão de ser
                                               permaneces além das estações

                                               continuas florindo
                                               Vou parar o vento da memória
                                               na curva do tempo


                                                             Maria José Sales Calado / 04.09.2018
                                                             Foto: MJSC / Barcelona - España 2017

quinta-feira, 30 de agosto de 2018

                                  O Sol derrete-se
                                                A Terra escurece noite
                                                Um rosto diante de mim
                                                Amor vento que acaricia
                                                Há noite alta, azul mais escuro
                                                E um pássaro viajante mundo
                                                contou-me que somos feitos
                                                de histórias escritas nos céus
                                                E que o amor veste as noites
                                                desnuda os corpos, os desejos
                                                Quando há mais que o amor
                                                muito mais que as canções
                                                De duas partes que se alcançam
                                                querendo ser inteiras no amor
                                                Sou aventura imparável
                                                Entrego-me ao amor

                                                              Maria José Sales Calado / 25.08.2018
                                                              Foto: MJSC / De um dia qualquer

                                                              São Paulo / SP / Brasil
                                  Encontro
                                                Da rota interior
                                                Acredito que não existe
                                                casualidade no encontro
                                                existe encontro no desejo
                                                Tropeço no amor
                                                e me perco
                                                e te procuro
                                                e te encontro
                                                e te reinvento
                                                e te reencontro
                                                e te recomeço
                                                Quero estar contigo
                                                sigo rotas interiores
                                                desenho tua ausência
                                                és presença constante
                                                Eu quero menos chão
                                                e existo, sem desistir
                                                e embriago-me, no ser


                                                              Maria José Sales Calado / 19.08.2018
                                                              Foto: MJSC / Barcelona / España 2011

terça-feira, 14 de agosto de 2018

                                  Esquina. Do pensamento
                                               Esquina. Do pensamento
                                               Das noites que fogem-me
                                               dentro dos sonhos dormidos 
                                               Há relações vida que dão certo
                                               relações que são int(r)ocáveis
                                               e já passaram-se muitas luas
                                               Sou anjo disfarçado de gente
                                               asas abertas ao mundo
                                               atingindo píncaros do desejo
                                               Apago as estrelas dos céus
                                               da noite, vem dormir comigo
                                               Quero voltar a perder-me
                                               na tua pele, onde eu vagueio
                                               E deixo o sol nascer-me


                                                            Maria José Salles Callado / 14.08.2018
                                                            Foto: MJSC / Por: Beth Samos
                                                            Belo Horizonte / MG / Brasil

segunda-feira, 13 de agosto de 2018

                                  Espaço. Da noite
                                                Espaço. Da noite
                                                Do meu auto-retrato
                                                silêncio noite adentro
                                                na noite que nunca acaba
                                                na vadiagem dos sonhos
                                                aos meus olhos distraídos
                                                Um anjo vestido de demônio
                                                no vento solto da madrugada 
                                                Olhos do desejo, que marcam
                                                encontro dos nossos eus
                                                Quem somos? Somos o amor
                                                Pergunto-me? E tropeço nos
                                                desejos que sou


                                                              Maria José Salles Callado / 01.08.2018
                                                              Foto: MJSC / São Paulo - SP

terça-feira, 31 de julho de 2018

                                  Poema. Das Águas
                                                Poema. Das Águas
                                                Águas vastas do amor
                                                Do amor, um sol inconstante
                                                Do desejo incêndio das águas
                                                Sou dia grande, enorme de sol
                                                Amor imprevisível de um corpo
                                                Impulsos abrem minhas asas
                                                Quero acreditar no barulho
                                                dos pensamentos, meus
                                                Quero mais, demais, ou nada
                                                Chego chicoteada por ventos
                                                Emaranho-me em você
                                                Acordo contigo perto de mim
                                                Este dia, ou um dia qualquer
                                                Somos átomos d'um universo
                                                chamado amor


                                                             Maria Jose Salles Callado / 18. 07.2018
                                                             Foto: MJSC - Barcelona/ Spña 2011