Category Archives: prose poem

Mondays with Pessoa: Bernardo’s Lament

He remembers a sense of several lives passing through the one. Beyond the torture of impatient youth, of fearful ignorant youth, beyond the common pains, all of his lives seemed to converge on the quivering edge of—not promise, not yet … Continue reading

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Monday with Pessoa: Who Are You, Reading Me?

I am like the sun shining on a cold day. You will not see me or feel me for I have already died. And if I have properly discovered the truth of consciousness then you only experience me through your … Continue reading

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Monday with Pessoa: Two Players

To think or to feel? Or what third thing among the stage-sets in the back? –Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet A mover of volatile parts, placid between harsh light and dream shadow, indifferent to one as to the other, or … Continue reading

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