quinta-feira, 29 de novembro de 2007

Is a kiss just a kiss?


Sugar - Ladytron

If i give you sugar, will you give me
Something elusive and temporary
If i give you sugar, will you give me
Something elusive and temporary
We get a signal to leave you alone
Alone's where we leave you
Alone's where we find you
If i give you sugar, will you give me
Something elusive and temporary

If i give you sugar, will you give me
Something elusive and temporary
If i give you sugar, will you give me
Something elusive and temporary
We get a signal to leave you alone
Alone's where we leave you
Alone's where we find you
If i give you sugar, will you give me
Something elusive and temporary

If i give you sugar, will you give me
Something elusive and temporary
If i give you sugar, will you give me
Something elusive and temporary
We get a signal to leave you alone
Alone's where we leave you
Alone's where we find you
If i give you sugar, will you give me
Something elusive and temporary

quarta-feira, 28 de novembro de 2007

Destroy Everything You Touch

Destroy everything you touch today
Destroy me this way
Anything that may desert you
So it cannot hurt you

You only have to look behind you
At who's undermined you
Destroy everything you touch today
Destroy me this way

Everything you touch you don't feel
Do not know what you steal
Shakes your hand
Takes your gun
Walks you out of the sun

What you touch you don't feel
Do not know what you steal
Destroy everything you touch today
Please destroy me this way

Destroy everything you touch today
Destroy me this way
Anything that may delay you
Might just save you

You only have to look behind you
At who's underlined you
Destroy everything you touch today
Destroy me this way

Everything you touch you don't feel
Do not know what you steal
Shakes your hand
Takes your gun
Walks you out of the sun

What you touch you don't feel
Do not know what you steal
Destroy everything you touch today
Please destroy me this way

Everything you touch you don't feel
Do not know what you steal
Shakes your hand
Takes your gun
Walks you out of the sun

What you touch you don't feel
Do not know what you steal
Destroy everything you touch today
Please destroy me this way

Everything you touch you don't feel
Do not know what you steal
Shakes your hand
Takes your gun
Walks you out of the sun

What you touch you don't feel
Do not know what you steal
Destroy everything you touch today
Please destroy me this way
*
"Destroy Everything You Touch" - Ladytron

Fazer Um Poema

Fazer um poema
não é dizer coisas profundas.
É ver as coisas
como as coisas não são.

Francisco Carvalho

terça-feira, 27 de novembro de 2007

domingo, 25 de novembro de 2007

10 Ways


Retrato


Eu não tinha este rosto de hoje,

assim calmo, assim triste, assim magro,

nem estes olhos tão vazios,nem o lábio amargo.


Eu não tinha estas mãos sem força,

tão paradas e frias e mortas;

eu não tinha este coração que nem se mostra.


Eu não dei por esta mudança,

tão simples, tão certa, tão fácil:

Em que espelho ficou perdida a minha face?"

First Autumn Morning


First autumn morning:
the mirror I stare into
shows my father's face.

The moment two bubbles
are united, they both vanish.
A lotus blooms.


Kijo Murakami

sexta-feira, 23 de novembro de 2007

Sergio Godinho - Primeiro Dia

A Flor e a Náusea




Preso à minha classe e a algumas roupas,
Vou de branco pela rua cinzenta.
Melancolias, mercadorias espreitam-me.
Devo seguir até o enjôo?
Posso, sem armas, revoltar-me?

Olhos sujos no relógio da torre:
Não, o tempo não chegou de completa justiça.
O tempo é ainda de fezes, maus poemas, alucinações e espera.
O tempo pobre, o poeta pobre
fundem-se no mesmo impasse.

Em vão me tento explicar, os muros são surdos.
Sob a pele das palavras há cifras e códigos.
O sol consola os doentes e não os renova.
As coisas. Que tristes são as coisas, consideradas sem ênfase.

Vomitar esse tédio sobre a cidade.
Quarenta anos e nenhum problema
resolvido, sequer colocado.
Nenhuma carta escrita nem recebida.
Todos os homens voltam para casa.
Estão menos livres mas levam jornais
e soletram o mundo, sabendo que o perdem.

Crimes da terra, como perdoá-los?
Tomei parte em muitos, outros escondi.
Alguns achei belos, foram publicados.
Crimes suaves, que ajudam a viver.
Ração diária de erro, distribuída em casa.
Os ferozes padeiros do mal.
Os ferozes leiteiros do mal.

Pôr fogo em tudo, inclusive em mim.
Ao menino de 1918 chamavam anarquista.
Porém meu ódio é o melhor de mim.
Com ele me salvo
e dou a poucos uma esperança mínima.

Uma flor nasceu na rua!
Passem de longe, bondes, ônibus, rio de aço do tráfego.
Uma flor ainda desbotada
ilude a polícia, rompe o asfalto.
Façam completo silêncio, paralisem os negócios,
garanto que uma flor nasceu.

Sua cor não se percebe.
Suas pétalas não se abrem.
Seu nome não está nos livros.
É feia. Mas é realmente uma flor.

Sento-me no chão da capital do país às cinco horas da tarde
e lentamente passo a mão nessa forma insegura.
Do lado das montanhas, nuvens maciças avolumam-se.
Pequenos pontos brancos movem-se no mar, galinhas em pânico.
É feia. Mas é uma flor. Furou o asfalto, o tédio, o nojo e o ódio.


Carlos Drummond de Andrade

domingo, 18 de novembro de 2007

The Aristocrat


The Devil is a gentleman and asks you down to stay
At his little place at What'sitsname (it isn't far away).
They say the sport is splendid; there is always something new,
And fairy scenes, and fearful feats that none but he can do;
He can shoot the feathered cherubs if they fly on the estate,
Or fish for Father Neptune with the mermaids for a bait;
He scaled amid the staggering stars that precipice the sky,
And blew his trumpet above heaven, and got by mastery
The starry crown of God Himself and shoved it on the shelf;
But the devil is a gentleman, and doesn't brag himself.

O blind your eyes and break your heart and hack your hand away,
And lose your love and shave your head; but do not go to stay
At the little place in What'sitsname where folks are rich and clever;
The golden and the goodly house, where things grow worse forever;
There are things you need not know of,though you live and die in vain,
There are souls more sick of pleasure than you are sick of pain;
There is a game of April Fool that's played behind its door,
Where the fool remains forever and April comes no more,
Where the splendor of the daylight grows drearier than the dark,
And life droops like a vulture that once was such a lark:
And that is the Blue Devil, that once was the Blue Bird;
For the Devil is a gentleman, and doesn't keep his word

G.K. Chesterton

To Live And Die In L.A.

Wang Chung - To Live And Die in L.A.

In the heat of the day
Every time you go away
I have to piece my life together
Every time you're away
In the heat of the day
In the dark of the night
Every time I turn the light
I feel that God is not in heaven
In the dark of the night
The dark of the night

I wonder why I live alone here
I wonder why we spend these nights together
Is this the room I'll live my life forever
I wonder why in LA
To live and die in LA
I wonder why we waste our lives here
When we could run away to paradise
But I am held in some invisible vice
And I can't get away
To live and die in LA

If I let myself go
And for where I just don't know
I'd maybe hit some cold new river
That led out to the sea
An unknown sea
I'd either swim or I'd drown
Or just keep falling down and down
I think its that, that makes me quiver
Just to keep falling down
Down, down, down

I wonder why I live alone here
I wonder why we spend these nights together
Is this the way I'll live my life forever
I wonder why in LA
To live and die in LA

In every word that you say
I feel my freedom slip away
I feel the bars come down around me
And I can't get away
I can't get away

I wonder why I live alone here
I wonder why we spend these nights together
Is this the room I'll live my life forever
I wonder why in LA

Light Sleeper


LETOUR
Teresa?
TERESA
What is it?
LETOUR
I'm thirty-eight years old...Forty.
TERESA
You're young.
LETOUR
I have trouble sleeping. Look. What do you see around me? Is there anything? Is it dark? Have I run out of luck? Is there luck?
TERESA
I see a glow. Everything you need is around you. The only danger is inside you.


"Light Sleeper", Paul Schrader, 1992

domingo, 11 de novembro de 2007

Requiescat in Pacem


Uma singela homenagem aos que tombaram em combate.
Da autoria de Henrique Moreira, foi inaugurado em Abril de 1928, na Praça Carlos Alberto. Nesta nossa Cidade do Porto.




CEP e CAPI

São, respectivamente, os acrónimos para "Corpo Expedicionário Português" e "Corpo de Artilharia Pesada Independente", as forças militares Portuguesas que, ombreando com o combateram a Alemanha na 1ª. Guerra Mundial.



11 de Novembro de 1918


Cumprem-se hoje 89 anos sobre a data em que terminou a Primeira Guerra Mundial - a guerra que iria acabar com todas as guerras, e à qual o Mundo se referiu como "A Grande Guerra"... até ao regresso da loucura em 1939.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_War_I

quinta-feira, 8 de novembro de 2007

Parabéns Scorpia!!!


"MUITAS FELICIDADES, MUITOS ANOS DE VIDA..."

...são laranjinhas e tudo, já viste o luxo...;)

Parabéns, Scorpia!!!



quarta-feira, 7 de novembro de 2007

Lakshmi


Lakshmi


"Lakshmi, second from left, sits in her mother Poonam's lap as she poses next to her father Shambhu and brother Mithilesh, right, at the Sparsh Hospital in Bangalore, India, on Nov. 5. Doctors began operating Nov. 6 on the two-year-old girl born with four arms and four legs."

segunda-feira, 5 de novembro de 2007

Is a kiss just a kiss?

Remember Remember


"Remember remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I see no reason why gunpowder, treason
Should ever be forgot... "


Remember Remember

Good evening, London. Allow me first to apologize for this interruption. I do, like many of you, appreciate the comforts of every day routine- the security of the familiar, the tranquility of repetition. I enjoy them as much as any bloke. But in the spirit of commemoration, thereby those important events of the past usually associated with someone's death or the end of some awful bloody struggle, are celebrated with a nice holiday. I thought we could mark this November the 5th, a day that is sadly no longer remembered, by taking some time out of our daily lives to sit down and have a little chat. There are of course those who do not want us to speak. I suspect even now, orders are being shouted into telephones, and men with guns will soon be on their way.
Why? Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there?
Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission. How did this happen? Who's to blame? Well, certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable, but again truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror.
I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? War, terror, disease. There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. Fear got the best of you, and in your panic you turned to the now High Chancellor, Adam Sutler. He promised you order, he promised you peace, and all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent. Last night I sought to end that silence. Last night I destroyed the Old Bailey, to remind this country of what it has forgotten. More than four hundred years ago a great citizen wished to embed the fifth of November forever in our memory. His hope was to remind the world that fairness, justice, and freedom are more than words, they are perspectives.
So if you've seen nothing, if the crimes of this government remain unknown to you, then I would suggest you allow the fifth of November to pass unmarked. But if you see what I see, if you feel as I feel, and if you would seek as I seek, then I ask you to stand beside me one year from tonight, outside the gates of Parliament, and together we shall give them a fifth of November that shall never, ever be forgot.

domingo, 4 de novembro de 2007

Scent

scent of plum blossoms
on the misty mountain path
a big rising sun

Matsuo Basho

Very

"It is a very plum plum."

This Is Just To Say


I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast.

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold.

William Carlos Williams

sábado, 3 de novembro de 2007

Wisdom


When I have ceased to break my wings
Against the faultiness of things,
And learned that compromises wait
Behind each hardly opened gate,
When I have looked Life in the eyes,
Grown calm and very coldly wise,
Life will have given me the Truth,
And taken in exchange -- my youth.
Sara Teasdale

sexta-feira, 2 de novembro de 2007

Motivo da Rosa

Não te aflijas com a pétala que voa:
também é ser, deixar de ser assim.
Rosas verá, só de cinzas franzida,
mortas, intactas pelo teu jardim.
Eu deixo aroma até nos meus espinhos
ao longe, o vento vai falando de mim.
E por perder-me é que vão me lembrando,
por desfolhar-me é que não tenho fim.

Cecília Meireles

Ora Bolas...

quinta-feira, 1 de novembro de 2007

White Chalk - PJ Harvey

Aula de Desenho


Estou lá onde me invento e me faço:
De giz é meu traço. De aço, o papel.
Esboço uma face a régua e compasso:
É falsa. Desfaço o que fiz.
Retraço o retrato. Evoco o abstrato
Faço da sombra minha raiz.
Farta de mim, afasto-me
e constato: na arte ou na vida,
em carne, osso, lápis ou giz
onde estou não é sempre
e o que sou é por um triz.


Maria Esther Maciel