Press Release

(...)

Acredito que o encontrarei um dia (...) talvez no rosto do nosso filho, depois deste nascer, quando o seu corpo já tiver crescido. Talvez nessa altura os seus olhos, o movimento dos seus braços e o ritmo das pernas dêem nova existência à forma do pai. Talvez, se ambos fossem uma construção, olhando-os de longe, um caminhante pudesse ponderar sobre o mistério da vida: uma casa erguida certa vez, mesmo que caia, mesmo que arda, nunca deixa de existir. Haverá sempre alguém que fecha uma porta. Haverá sempre alguém que volta a abri-la. E a casa, ainda que não esteja lá fisicamente, sobrevive. A memória trata sempre de reconstruí-la até ao fim.

(...)

in Astrid, de César Parreira

Revista BYPASS

O me! O life!

O me! O life! Of the questions of these recurring,

Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill'd with the foolish,

Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I,

and who more faithless?)

Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean,of the struggle ever renew'd,

Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,

Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,

The question, O me! So sad, recurring - What good amid these, O me, O life?

Answer.

That you are here - that life exists and identity,

That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

~

Walt Whitman

songs under my skin #4

I need another place. Will there be peace? I need another world. This one’s nearly gone. Still have too many dreams. Never seen the light. I need another world. A place where I can go. I’m gonna miss the sea. I’m gonna miss the snow. I’m gonna miss the bees. I’m gonna miss the trees. I’m gonna miss the sound. I’ll miss the animals. I’m gonna miss you all. I need another place. Will there be peace? I need another world. This one’s nearly gone. I’m gonna miss the birds. Singing all this songs. Been kissing this so long. Another world. Another world. Another world. Another world…

Another World, by Antony and The Johnsons

Obrigado, L.

songs under my skin #3

Sights and Sounds pull me back down another year.

I WAS HERE. I WAS HERE.

Whipping past the reflecting pool me + you skipping school.

And we make it up as we go along. We make it up as we go along.

You said you raced from Langley pulling me underneath a Cherry Blossom canopy.

Do I Have? Of course I have, beneath my raincoat.

I have your photographs.

And the sun on your Face I'm freezing that frame.

And somewhere Alfie cries and says

"Enjoy his every smile You can see in the dark

Through the eyes of Laura Mars"

How did it go so fast, you'll say as we are looking back

and then we'll understand we held

gold dust in our hands.

Sights and Sounds pull me back down another year.

I WAS HERE I WAS HERE

Gaslights Glow in the street (flickering past)

Twilight held us in her palm as we walked along

And we make it up as we go along

We make it up as we go along

Letting names Hang in the air

What color hair (auburn crimson)

Autumn knowingly Stared And the day that She came

I'm freezing that Frame I'm freezing that frame

And somewhere Alfie smiles and says

"Enjoy her every cry You can see in the dark

Through the eyes Of Laura Mars"

How did it go so fast, you'll say as we are looking back
and then we'll understand we held
gold dust in our hands.

In our hands.

*

gold dust

Tori Amos

love.

eppure sentire.

songs under my skin #2

Some days her shape in the doorway will speak to me. A bird’s wing on the window. Sometimes I’ll hear her when she’s sleeping. Her fever dream. A language on her face.

I want your flowers like babies want God’s love or maybe as sure as tomorrow will come.

Some days, like rain on the doorstep, she’ll cover me with grace in all she offers. Sometimes I'd like just to ask her what honest words she can’t afford to say, like:

I want your flowers like babies want God’s love or maybe as sure as tomorrow will come.

Iron & Wine

PS. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nuzwa018vcY