30.9.05

Um poema




Pesquisava Alphonse Muncha, encontrei E. Munch, e muito bem, digo eu!

28.9.05

Férias...

E na continuação do divagar que são os dias. Devem passar devagar, quando passam galopantes, sem sequer que lhes sinta paladar ou tacto. Entre os dedos escapam grãos de dias como areias.
Faltando canções de magia que suspenda o sol num fio de aço e aquela nuvem do canto esquerdo da minha tela que proteja aquele bocadinho de sombra. Só para quando me maçar muito. O sol. Lá ao fundo, a brisa paralisada saída da voz de Zeus, agora calmo. Por favor, dócil.
Assim, o único aroma permitido seria o das férias. Plantas verdes do Alentejo, a noite silenciosa de Bragança. O bater das asas de um pássaro qualquer português. Férias. Mesmo cá dentro. Com trago a coentros e MAR da serra.

Em histórias desiguais destronei a má rainha que me queria ver destruída, destronada desterrada, enterrada? Nos meus sonhos, os cabelos meus eram brilho e a minha beleza segurança de convicções. Seguras. Apertadas e confiáveis. As vozes não choravam. Sorriam, sorrindo a alguém forte por eles e por elas sem nunca cansar e tão bem assumir o protector papel de guardiã de vidas aos milhares de desesperança porque é sempre tão mais fácil pedir que alguém tome conta de nós, deixando-nos a liberdade de brincar no parque e criarmos aventuras às dezenas, mas sermos cuidados e alimentados e aquecidos e acariciados.

Obrigados.

N.A.: pedido de desculpas antecipado por me fazer repetitiva!

26.9.05

porque estou um bocadinho lamechas....

remember how it used to be
when the sun would fill the sky
remember how we used to feel
those days would never end
those days would never end

remember how it used to be
when the stars would fill the sky
remember how we used to dream
those nights would never end
those nights would never end

it was the sweetness of your skin
it was the hope of all we might have been
that filled me with the hope to wish
impossible things
to wish impossible things

but now the sun shines cold
and all the sky is grey
the stars are dimmed by clouds and tears
and all i wish
is gone away
all i wish
is gone away

all i wish
is gone away



"To Wish Impossible Things"

Thank you, Robert!

15.9.05

estou tão cansada....

deve ser de andar a dormir pouco!

12.9.05

era mesmo isto que eu queria dizer (obrigada, Ju!)

Beggar

Could you give me a small part of yourself
I'm only asking for the tiniest part
Just enough to get me from here to there

Could you give me something
Anything at all
I'll accept whatever it is

Could you just put your hand on my head
Could you brush against my arm
Could you just come near enough
So I could feel as though you might be able to hold me

Could you touch me with your voice
Blow your breath in my direction

Is it all right if I look straight into your face

Could I just walk behind you for a little while
Would you let me follow you at a distance

If I had anything of value I'd gladly give it to you
If there's anything of me you want just take it

But don't think I'm this way with everybody
I almost never come to this
In fact usually it's the other way around

There's lots of people
Who would love to even have a conversation with me
Who even ask me if they can walk behind me

So don't get any ideas that I'm completely alone
Because I'm not

In fact you're the one who looks like you could use a little company

Where do you get off thinking you have anything to give me anyway

I have everything I need
And what I don't have I know where to get it
Any time I want

In the middle of the night
In the middle of the afternoon
Five o'clock in the morning

In fact I'm wasting my time right now
Just talking to you


por Sam Sheppard in "Savage Love"