Jose de Gouveia is the artistic director of the Cape Cod Poets Theatre, Poet-In-Residence at Cape Cod Community College and the Spoken Word Poet Laureate of Cape Cod for 1999.  A first generation Luso-Americano (Portuguese), he holds an AA in Liberal Arts from Cape Cod Community College and a BA in Literature from UMass/Dartmouth.
     He has written for the Sarasota Herald Tribune, Cape Cod Times and New Bedford Standard Times, as well as various collegiate and small press publications.  He has been awarded the UMass Literary Prize for Poetry (1995) and the Sarasota Poetry Theatre Prize for Oral Poetry (1996).
     Jose was a member of the 1997 and 1998 Hyannis Slam Teams and the 1999 Woodstock Slam Team.  He has performed with Soulspeak, the Talking Drum Poets and Blue Stogie.

Visit the website of Jose's stomping grounds, the Cape Code Poets Theatre.
 

Samples of the poet’s work (including two audio samples):

 
Things That Are Bad For Me

As far back as I can remember
probably  since the day I was born
there have always been people & places
warning me of the things that are bad for me, like:

Sex
alone and with others
Drugs
alone and with others
Violence
especially on television
Alcohol
at all times
Junk Food
whenever I want
Red Meat
often
Chewin' the fat
always
Bitin' the bone
right down to the marrow

Yeah, these are the things that even
the fitness craze says is bad for me

Spontaneous road trips
satisfyin' an urge
Not wearin' condoms
takin' a chance
High Cholesterol count
not eatin' right
High anything
you name it
Epilepsy
not takin' my meds
Epilepsy
takin' extra meds
Too much sleep
not enough sleep
Too much caffeine
not enough sugar...

These are the things that convention
has always said is bad for me

Bein' a poet
and fallin' in Love
Other women and their kids
lettin' 'em in real close
Other men and their wives
them lettin' me in too close
Illegitimate children
findin' out years later
The Rites of Passage
becoming a man
All of Bill's rights
the entire Constitution

Although far right are most
certainly bad for me, like

Freedom
cuz it's mine anyway
To peaceably assemble
and the right to bear arms
Protest
whenever deemed necessary
Separation
of Church and State
Expression
especially when write
Speech
whenever I want
And Silence
if that's what I choose

I guess this means everything
that makes me "me" is bad for me

Being human
human being
Emotions
felt and unfelt
Empathy
for one and all
Strength
in numbers
Unity
of humankind
Passion
and Romance
To Love
and to be Loved

Yeah, I guess what all this really means
Is all the things I'm told are bad for me
Are all the things that I truly Love.
 

 
A NAME IN VAIN
or
LET HIM BE DEAD, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE
 

Long dude with a long beard
Longhair!
Led the way and long journeys
Onward and upward
Still misunderstood
Long after
Anti-environmentalists
Killed some trees and
He died too
Thousands ago

But INRI is a cry still
Warring many into self-proclaimed
Holy ground by mortals performing
His dirty work in post-scripts
Unable to leave Death alone or
Allow a rest for one who
Obviously bled in vain

Yet Truth surfaces despite
Shrouds put there by men wearing
White robes proving that neither
Death nor virgin wombs may be
Entered peaceably beneath
Walked upon earth now
Covered with daisies

For blue blood did turn red
That day while Death laughed
And still laughs at profit made
By extorters of The Word
Sold out in print
Topping the best-sellers lists
Year after year in
The name of a dead man
Not allowed to die

When will the tables be turned
Upside-down oh so righteously once
Again in Anger to purge our
Communal Soul and allow any
Peace Prince, or Princess
A well deserved rest from
Our self-defined humanity?

When will the Dead
Truly bury the Dead?
 

Critically Thinking
(for my Portuguese Grandfather, my Avo', Jose de Gouveia)

My grandfather died during an election year
I couldn't be at the funeral being in jail
So instead I write this cellblock poem about

How every election year in Americo
I hear million dollar speeches by
candidates of political parties
having a ball on US
talking about the need of returning to
‘Good Ol' Days’ and ‘Family Values’

And I think of my Portuguese grandfather,
my Avo',
with the work ethic as his family's value
imprisoned at Ellis Island for illegal entry
left scrapping for life in a cell of family values
released and deported his own laboring expense 1940

Liberdade? Liberdade? !Nao Liberdade!  !Opressao, Opressao!

Which has me recall primary talk of closing our borders
to those yearning for a piece of the land of the Free
those who steal jobs from 'native-born' Americans
And I see true justice here only true if retroactive

And I'm thinking about "For And By The People"
thinking how Democracy is best for the majority
leaving the minority engulfed in the most popular
fascist beliefs of the day left drowning in a
shining sea of constituted rights for which we are billed

Democracia, Americo?  Americo, Democracia?

And I think of the homeless fighting off the cold
wonder who they vote for in their apparent need of
‘Family’ Values but remember Americans aren't allowed
to vote unless legal, have an address, and I see discrimination's
purple majesty carving His word out in white marble

And everywhere I see prejudice princes dying selfishly
in their own political names and causes perpetuating
sins of elitism and I wonder what those ‘Good Ol' Days’
must have represented if Civil Liberties for all had to be
fought for under Star-Spangled banners in these ‘United’ States

!Americo, Americo!  Liberdade, Americo?

Where again, I am thinking of my
Portuguese grandfather, my Avo'
this time getting into the country legally
six years later after a near decade absence
from his wife and kids
for the welfare of them
you bet he stole every job he could
in his Americanization

Liberdade?  !Trabalha, Liberdade, Trabalha!

I think of the double and triple shifts he worked
in woolen mills the beef, pork and poultry he raised
the plants he cropped the Port wine and Moonshine
He bled and smuggled the only way he knew how
In a country known as the home of the brave

Where somewhere an epitaph engraved in granite
mentions something about 'Liberdade' and asks you
give this stone-eyed goddess your hungry and your poor

So as I enter Lady Liberty's voting booth
I am not impressed by a torch held high overhead
nor waste my ascendant's vote on the NEED
of returning to those ‘Good Ol' Days’ or ‘Family Values’
or any such propaganda associated with the federalist lot
where the republic reserves the right to feed off excess

!Ai Jesus!  !Propagandista!  Liberdade?  !Propagandista!

Propaganda it seems is made of imported ingredients
fostered by farmers working still in the till
buried long before they may freely reap their own harvest

And so I do not sing, "God Bless America" but rather
I pray that someday such blessings be taken away
from the speakers of such rhetoric, until they are made
to go work for it, in the manner in which my Avo' had to do
way back when, Senhor Politicion, in your ‘Good Ol' Days’

!Boas Festas!
 

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