refúgio com pat metheny

ao meu amigo lt

antónio ramos rosa

Este homem que esperou
humilde em sua casa
que o sol lavasse a cara
ao seu desgosto

Este homem que esperou
à sombra de uma árvore
mudar a direcção
ao seu pobre destino

Este homem que pensou
com uma pedra na mão
transformá-la num pão
transformá-la num beijo

Este homem que parou
no meio da sua vida
e se sentiu mais leve
que a sua própria sombra

 partiu hoje

Charles Bukowski

Here I am

drunk again at 3 a.m. at the end of my 2nd bottle
of wine, I have typed from a dozen to 15 pages of
poesy
an old man
maddened for the flesh of young girls in this
dwindling twilight
liver gone
kidneys going
pancrea pooped
top-floor blood pressure
while all the fear of the wasted years
laughs between my toes
no woman will live with me
no Florence Nightingale to watch the
Johnny Carson show with
if I have a stroke I will lay here for six
days, my three cats hungrily ripping the flesh
from my elbows, wrists, head
the radio playing classical music ...
I promised myself never to write old man poems
but this one's funny, you see, excusable, be-
cause I've long gone past using myself and there's
still more left
here at 3 a.m. I am going to take this sheet from
the typer
pour another glass and
insert
make love to the fresh new whiteness
maybe get lucky
again
first for
me
later
for you.

o fim do verão

ontem no alentejo

aivados

i fall in love too easily

Marilyn Monroe

John Huston movie

Teixeira de Pascoaes

Esse calor primeiro que enternece
O ar azul e a terra já florindo...
A aurora que nos altos aparece,
Os sapos, no crepúsculo, carpindo,
Aquele velho muro onde enverdece,
A hera que o sustenta e vai cobrindo,
Tudo de ti me fala. E a tua imagem
Vaga através de mim, que sou paisagem.

David Sylvian

para jm e jt

Messages ran all over town
Words without sound
Condemned me
And left me for dead
All over again
It wasn't the first time, but this time
Things will never be the same
Ride, ride the very thought into the ground
In the church of the lost and found
The angels cry
Ride, ride until the darkness closes in
Until the ravaged soul begins
To reflect the open skies, ride
The chapel was burned
Razed to the ground
From the darkest of clouds
Small birds tumbled like rain
Time and again
You may go charging at windmills
In these days
Absurdities never change
Ride, ride the very thought into the ground
In the church of the lost and found
The angels cry
Ride, ride until the darkness closes in
Until the ravaged soul begins
To reflect the open skies, ride
In the thick of the woods
The word is taboo
In the darkest of continents
Light can deceive you
Ride, ride the very thought into the ground
In the church of the lost and found
The angels cry
Ride, ride until the darkness closes in
Until the ravaged soul begins
To reflect the open skies, ride.
Saddle up your thoughts and run to ground
In this world of lost and found
The eagles fly, ride