quinta-feira, 1 de junho de 2017

Love came in between the space and the city lights

"All alone in the danger zone Are you ready to take my hand? All alone in the flame of doubt Are we going to lose it all? I could never leave you and the city lights I could never beat the storm in your eyes The storm in your bright eyes All alone in the danger zone Are you ready to take my hand? All alone in the flame of doubt Are we going to lose it all? Love came in between the space and the city lights Only I receive the stars in your eyes The stars in your dark eyes All alone in the danger zone Are you ready to take my hand? All alone in the flame of doubt Are we going to lose it all? Let’s put some light into our lives But keep the storm that’s in your eyes Let’s put some light into our lives All alone in the danger zone Are you ready to take my hand? All alone in the flame of doubt Are we going to lose it all? All alone in the danger zone Are you ready to take my hand? All alone in the flame of doubt Are we going to lose it all? To lose it all To lose it all".

domingo, 1 de março de 2015

...É quase verão em pleno inverno...

Meu amor adeus Tem cuidado Se a dor é um espinho Que espeta sozinho Do outro lado Meu bem desvairado Tão aflito Se a dor é um dó Que desfaz o nó E desata um grito Um mau olhado Um mal pecado E a saudade é uma espera É uma aflição Se é Primavera É um fim de Outono Um tempo morno É quase Verão Em pleno Inverno É um abandono Porque não me vês Maresia Se a dor é um ciúme Que espalha um perfume Que me agonia Vem me ver amor De mansinho Se a dor é um mar Louco a transbordar Noutro caminho Quase a espraiar Quase a afundar E a saudade é uma espera É uma aflição Se é Primavera É um fim de Outono Um tempo morno É quase Verão Em pleno Inverno É um abandono

terça-feira, 8 de janeiro de 2013

sexta-feira, 14 de dezembro de 2012

Phoenix in the water...

"I’m a phoenix in the water A fish that’s learnt to fly And I’ve always been a daughter But feathers are meant for the sky So I’m wishing, wishing further For the excitement to arrive It’s just I’d rather be causing the chaos Than laying at the sharp end of this knife With every small disaster I’ll let the waters still Take me away to some place real 'Cause they say home is where your heart is set in stone where you go when you’re alone Is where you go to rest your bones It’s not just where you lay your head It's not just where you make your bed As long as we’re together, does it matter where we go? Home Home So when I’m ready to be bolder, And my cuts have healed with time Comfort will rest on my shoulder And I’ll bury my future behind I’ll always keep you with me You’ll be always on my mind But there’s a shining in the shadows I’ll never know unless I try With every small disaster I’ll let the waters still Take me away to some place real 'Cause they say home is where your heart is set in stone where you go when you’re alone Is where you go to rest your bones It’s not just where you lay your head It's not just where you make your bed As long as we’re together, does it matter where we go? Home, Home".

terça-feira, 11 de dezembro de 2012

Self preservation

How are you to imagine anything if the images are always provided for you? Doublethink. To deliberately believe in lies while knowing they’re false. Examples of this in every day life: Oh, I need to be pretty to be happy. I need surgery to be pretty. I - I need to be thin. Famous. Fashionable. Our young men today are being told that women are whores. Bitches. Things to be screwed. Beaten. Shit on. And shamed. This is a marketing holocaust. Twenty four hours a day, for the rest of our lives, the powers at be are hard at work dumbing us to death. So, to defend ourselves, and fight against assimilating this dullness into our thought processes, we must learn to read. To stimulate our own imagination. To cultivate our own consciousness. Our own belief systems. We all need these skills to defend, to preserve, our own minds." in Detachment.

quinta-feira, 29 de novembro de 2012

Pessoal e intramissível...

(...) E do que eu gosto mais em ti é dos teus defeitos, dos teus pecados, da tua mentira que odeias. Para se gostar mesmo, como eu gosto de ti, é preciso dar atenção ao de que não se gosta nada das outras vezes, mesmo nada, isso é que é gostar como eu gosto de ti, é isso, só isso, que me faz gostar de ti. (...) os teus feitos são mortais, mas os pecados, esses são só teus. E meus, se tu quiseres. Pedro Paixão in, "Muito,meu amor "

quarta-feira, 5 de setembro de 2012

Petal by petal...

"your slightest look easily will unclose me though I have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose (I do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands". E.E. Cummings

domingo, 2 de setembro de 2012

terça-feira, 28 de agosto de 2012

Liquid...

If language were liquid It would be rushing in Instead here we are In a silence more eloquent Than any word could ever be These words are too solid They don't move fast enough To catch the blur in the brain That flies by and is gone Gone Gone Gone I'd like to meet you In a timeless, placeless place Somewhere out of context And beyond all consequences Let's go back to the building (Words are too solid) On Little West Twelfth It is not far away (They don't move fast enough) And the river is there And the sun and the spaces Are all laying low (To catch the blur in the brain) And we'll sit in the silence (That flies by and is) That comes rushing in and is Gone (Gone) I won't use words again They don't mean what I meant They don't say what I said They're just the crust of the meaning With realms underneath Never touched Never stirred Never even moved through If language were liquid It would be rushing in Instead here we are In a silence more eloquent Than any word could ever be And is gone Gone Gone And is gone".

quarta-feira, 15 de agosto de 2012

terça-feira, 10 de julho de 2012

Santa Claus...

500 days of Summer