Joao Otero Poems

Above the shades of graves and
below the shinning sky
I saw a man and his dreams
to rot alone and die
...

If I saw a butterfly,
with wings wide open
floating in the air...
like seeing you passing by
...

How should the sound have been
if from the skin you cut
there was no other but
your very own blood?
...

There's a fading blurred line
Between deep ocean
And sky,
...

I know, my friend, I'm getting old.
And true, some things are hard to hold...
The golden green of morning breath;
And drops of hope along the path.
...