segunda-feira, 18 de junho de 2018

                                            Amanheces. Em mim
                                                             Amanheces. Em mim
                                                             nos incontidos desejos
                                                             Tu vens? Pássaro em voo
                                                             na árvore de raízes da terra
                                                             de um rio a procura do mar
                                                             longe do mar a canoa é triste
                                                             Quero te ter na virada da noite
                                                             tens gosto de cereja madura
                                                             sabor de um sorriso maroto
                                                             tu és minha grande história
                                                             tu me acordas o desejo
                                                             nos arrepios da tua pele
                                                             Céu azulado, eis-me aqui
                                                             estrela do belo-horizonte

 
                                                                               Maria Jose Salles Callado / 07.06.2018
                                                                               Foto - MJSC - Strasbourg / France 2017
                                           Pedras. Da calçada
                                                            Pedras. Da calçada
                                                            Passos. Eis-me aqui
                                                            Distância tempo, ausência
                                                            porque não me trazes o sol?
                                                            Dia aberto
                                                            desço as calçadas
                                                            corrida desenfreada
                                                            Solitária
                                                            de encontros, desencontros
                                                            de chegadas, despedidas
                                                            Gosto do sol que bate nas
                                                            nesgas dos prédios altos
                                                            preciso sair para me encontrar
                                                            encontro-me no inesperado
                                                            da noite
                                                            até que nasça um outro dia
                                                            O que sei fazer? eu sonho.

                                                                             Maria José Salles Callado / 26.05.18
                                                                             Foto - MJSC - São Paulo / Brasil

sexta-feira, 11 de maio de 2018

                                           Viajo. Com os pássaros
                                                            Viajo. Com os pássaros
                                                            Viagem. Dentro de mim
                                                            e dividida com os pássaros
                                                            árvores despidas do Outono
                                                            pássaros, viagens, estações
                                                            amor instintivo, fome de amor
                                                            chão onde as asas crescem
                                                            enquanto o mundo dorme
                                                            mulher veste-se de poesia
                                                            os pássaros me acordam
                                                            nos cantos da madrugada
                                                            ouve-se barulho dos ventos
                                                            nos seus assobios, ruídos
                                                            nas janelas entreabertas
                                                            no silêncio agudo da noite
                                                            mulher, de penas eriçadas
                                                            vestida, amarelo-canário
                                                            entregue aos vendavais
                                                            escuto rumor da chuva
                                                            esbarro no sol invisível
                                                            a vida escorre nas ruas
                                                            sou um lugar, no tempo


                                                                             Maria José Salles Callado / 08.05. 2018
                                                                             Foto - MJSC - Ushuaia / Patagônia Argentina 2016

quinta-feira, 10 de maio de 2018

                                                  Rosto. Da noite
                                                                      Rosto. Da noite
                                                                      Da noite. De um dia
                                                                      Rosto, tempestade
                                                                      que escurece cabelos
                                                                      rosto á minha espera
                                                                      sorriso para os olhos
                                                                      beirais do sorriso linear
                                                                      quero sorrisos á soltas
                                                                      retrato de uma árvore nua
                                                                      dedos poemas da tua pele
                                                                      Debruço na noite, abro janelas
                                                                      vejo-te no azul-claro que pinta
                                                                      o céu
                                                                      Quero roubar-te de algum lugar
                                                                      Quem eu sou? Eu sou quem?
                                                                      Sou a tua ausência em mim
                                                                      que eu posso tocar...


                                                                                           Maria José Salles Callado / 26.04.2018
                                                                                           Foto - MJSC - Meu cantinho onde escrevo poesias / 2018
                                                                                           São Paulo / SP
                                               Sou terra. Dia dos sonhos
                                                               Sou terra. Dia dos sonhos
                                                               Há noite. E não me escutas
                                                               Trago um mundo para contar
                                                               Venho da terra dos sonhos
                                                               Habito casa de portões vermelhos
                                                               Adentro paredes descascadas
                                                               do dia de ontem
                                                               Andante dos pés valentes
                                                               Venho do tempo, da noite
                                                               Para ser um eu, mais eu
                                                               Frágil, inteira, completa
                                                               E olho-me no espelho
                                                               Cada noite espreito-me
                                                               Eu não posso adiar-me
                                                               Sou gente sem etiqueta
                                                               e sem preço.


                                                                                 Maria Jose Salles Callado / 26.03.18
                                                                                 Foto - MJSC - Deutschland /  Berlim 2017
                                            Embarcas. Em mim
                                                             Embarcas. Em mim
                                                             Sou cais de espera
                                                             Embarcas. No amor
                                                             Maresia, mar sem fim
                                                             Onde o sol esconde o mar
                                                             Onde crescem as ondas
                                                             Onde os ventos rodopiam
                                                             Prende-me em amarras
                                                             como um barco ao cais
                                                             És barco que atraca na terra
                                                             Do mar diurno, noite do amor
                                                             És vento que corta as areias
                                                             da praia
                                                             Eu sou porto das águas azuis
                                                             pedaço do grande cais
                                                             Há sempre uma réstia de sol
                                                             no horizonte interrompido
                                                             Quando os sonhos me fogem.


                                                                               Maria José Salles Callado / 19.03.18
                                                                               Foto - MJSC - São Paulo / SP 2017
                                                                               (...) No meu consultório em 2017
                                                                               quando meus sonhos corriam na
                                                                               minha cabeça, meus dedos escreviam poesias
                                                  Amor. invento-te
                                                                      Amor. invento-te
                                                                      Quase muito. Amor
                                                                      Invento quase tudo
                                                                      Amor quase momento
                                                                      Ainda, um quase tempo
                                                                      Amor um quase sempre
                                                                      Amor sempre um instante

                                                                      Do outro lado do espelho
                                                                      quero vestir-me de amor
                                                                      Conheço bem teu corpo
                                                                      quero desnudar-te sempre
                                                                      Eu te chamo por teu nome
                                                                      és madrugada do meu peito
                                                                      aquela fome do instinto
                                                                      Hei-de inventar-te
                                                                      em mim


                                                                                           Maria José Salles Callado / 09.02.2018
                                                                                           Foto - MJSC - Consultório Pediátrico SP/ 2017

quarta-feira, 7 de fevereiro de 2018

                                  Além. Dos Anjos 
                                                Além. Dos Anjos
                                                Há noites assim, apenas noites
                                                Anjo desenho além da noite
                                                Figura invisível, caída dos céus
                                                Há anjo. Asas enormes abertas
                                                no caminho da terra
                                                Há um anjo errático. Cabelos

                                                encaracolados, avermelhados
                                                Asas coladas, que pega carona

                                                na cauda dos ventos
                                                Procura a origem dos ventos no

                                                céu grosso e vitrificado
                                                Há fissuras no poema feito no

                                                dia-a-dia sem projetos
                                                E quem disse que a noite é a

                                                casa dos sonhos?
                                                Deixa-me, caminho da noite
                                                momentos adormecidos
                                                memórias não esquecidas
                                                na grande casa da memória
                                                onde cabe todos os sonhos

                                                pedaços dos meus desejos
                                                escritos na pele dos sentidos
                                                não quero perder-me de vista
                                                quanto mais perco-me, mais
                                                me encontro
                                                sonhos que dormimos juntos
                                                quero viver na noite que fica.


                                                Maria Jose Salles Callado / 07.02.2018
                                                Foto: MJSC - Füssen / Alemanha 2017

segunda-feira, 15 de janeiro de 2018

                                           Pássaro branco
                                                            Pássaro
                                                            do meu pequeno pátio
                                                            durante o dia apareces
                                                            no espaço mais branco

                                                            apagas esquina do céu
                                                            Pássaro mais um dia  
                                                            ave sem nome
                                                            tão longe de mim
                                                            que não tem morada
                                                            encaixado nas nuvens
                                                            na brancura das manhãs   
                                                            avança, perde-se por aí

                                                            no regresso as árvores
                                                            com asas encantadas
                                                            que o vento transporta
                                                            através das montanhas     
                                                            ave de horizontes alados
                                                            do inacabado, recomeço 
                                                            que bate asas, avoa
                                                            bate asas, apaga-se
                                                            bate asas, ressurges
                                                            bate asas, e pousas
                                                            No fascínio

                                                            tu apareces
                                                            ensina-me o voo
                                                            Há muito que te falei
                                                            inventas caminhos no céu
                                                            pássaro a fitar-me de longe
                                                            qual inesperado vagabundo.


                                                                             Maria Jose Salles Callado / 15.01.2018

                                                                             Foto: MJSC - Berliner  Mauer - East Side Gallery

segunda-feira, 18 de dezembro de 2017

                                  Irei. Vou 
                                                          Vou
                                                Vou visitar-te
                                                Um dia
                                                em dezembro
                                                Quando a névoa
                                                espessa
                                                se render
                                                se mover
                                                se dissolver
                                                na esquina do azul
                                                além dos fantasmas
                                                aqui e ali, e muito além
                                                eu sei
                                                aparecem, desaparecem
                                                Eu sei
                                                que é só
                                                uma névoa ins-(tável)
                                                passageira
                                                E eu me rendo
                                                E eu me encerro
                                                em você

                                                            Maria Jose Salles Callado / 18.12.2017
                                                            Foto - MJSC / Barcelona / España