Fire Graffiti

Fire Graffiti

Throughout those dismal months my life was only sparked alight
when I made love to you.
As the firefly ignites and fades, ignites and fades, we follow the flashes
of its flight in the dark among the olive trees.


Throughout those dismal months, my soul sat slumped and lifeless
but my body walked to yours.
The night sky was lowing.
We milked the cosmos secretly, and survived.

Tomas Tranströmer

I really like this blog

Georgia O’ Keeffe and Orville Cox - Ansel Adams, 1937


The Blog :

http://theimpossiblecool.tumblr.com/

the moon, the moon

Love is the seventh wave

Pequenos dias passam cheios de grandes dramas

expectante no mar, esperas a onda
o momento certo de ganhares o impulso
e de te ergueres, deslizando vertiginoso
triunfante, como a espuma ou o vento
a gaivota que grita sobre a praia

Venetian Horses

"One of the most famous features of the church is the Triumphal Guadriga, or Horses of St. Mark. You can see them above the central door and largest arch in the picture above, 4 huge bronze horses. (Today, the ones you see are copies, and the real ones are protected inside the church.) They were brought here from Constantinople in 1204 after Venetian soldiers in the 4th crusade sacked the city. They are old, and were part of a huge Roman complex there since ancient times. Debate rages on if they were made in ancient Greece or as a Roman copy, but either way, they are some of the only ancient bronze statues to survive to today. Napoleon liked them so much that he took them to Paris in 1797, but they were returned years later."

the gift

AntiCrise

o amor é uma conspiração

uma teia bem urdida que agarra o verão

impede as folhas das árvores de amarelecerem

os dias de encolherem

o amor é uma conspiração

para trazer a felicidade ás ruas

levar as flores a todo o lado

sur les pavés...

Júlio Pomar - Maio de 1968 (CRS - SS) II, 1968 - Acrílico sobre tela, 97 x 130 - Coleção de Jorge de Brito (Cascais - Portugal)

Dizzy

Dizzy

sometimes I feel so dizzy
Things go so fast, light shifts and colors mix

I walk the streets trying to make sense of things
Look for meanings on scribbles covering walls
Noise, meaningless, void.
Trash passing for currency.

A pretty woman in a TV show
Doesn’t know where Africa is,
Doesn’t know anything different from the price of things
or where to get the next euro, the next kick.
Lost all is lost
and this feeling makes our bones soft, our wills melt
No judgment, no reason, no purpose.


Our ancient name is Europa
Our old rule is Democracia.
It flows, it flows where it goes
Nobody knows, nobody knows.

Why don't you touch me ?

"...
She's a lady, she's got time
Brush back your hair
And let me get to know your face

She's a lady, she is mine
Brush back your hair
And let me get to know your flesh

I've been waiting here for so long
And all the time that passed me by
It doesn't seem to matter now

You stand there with your
fixed expression
Casting doubt on all I have to say
Why don't you touch me, touch me
Why don't you touch me, touch me
Touch me now, now, now, now, now
Now, now, now, now, now
Now, now, now, now, now
Now, now, now, now, now ..."

Genesis, The Musical Box

todo o mundo é um palco...

imagem de Jorge Molder


http://www.spq.pt/boletim/docs/boletimSPQ_102_045_07.pdf

http://www.mnhn.ul.pt/portal/page?_pageid=418,1391237&_dad=portal&_schema=PORTAL

madames et monsieurs...la valse

Vallotton, Félix (1861 - 1925)

The Waltz
Date: 1893

women rule the world

Woman 1949

once de Kooning was a stowaway in a boat to America...

A Tree in Naples

Willem de Kooning (American, born the Netherlands. 1904-1997)

1960. Oil on canvas, 6' 8 1/4" x 70 1/8" (203.7 x 178.1 cm). The Sidney and Harriet Janis Collection. © 2011 The Willem de Kooning Foundation / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York

"This work belongs to a group of abstractions inspired by the landscape. In them de Kooning simplified his visual vocabulary to a few powerful, expansive brushstrokes that evoke the vistas of color found in the natural world. He described the experience that inspired these works: “Just coming around roads, some place, and having the sensation of a piece of it, a piece of nature, like a fence, something on the road. … And I really get very elated by again looking, by again seeing that the sky is blue, that the grass is green.”"

rippling waves

“
rippling waves

with the wind scent

beat together

”

- Basho

(via yama-bato)

Cais

Tanto que eu sonhei nos degraus do cais...

colour me

all here :

http://mek.oszk.hu/kiallitas/gedo_ilka/html.en/images.html

sobreviver ao deserto

Há montes de gente bonita, por aí
Tem de ser uma coisa boa, não tem ?
Como um sinal ou um augúrio
como aquilo que os romanos procuravam no voo das aves,
Ou nas entranhas dos animais sacrificados…

Cada dia sem ti, é um deserto sem fim.

O tempo costumava ser fácil e simpático,
Tal qual uma boa loja, daquelas com corredores largos
E um sitio para cada coisa…
eu seguia-te para todo o lado tu decidias o que havíamos de levar.
Até que te foste sem mim.

Cada dia sem ti, é um deserto sem fim.

Eu enrolo-me num canto,
Os meus ombros fecham-se sobre o peito
Esmagados pelo peso de asas que já não tenho,
Tu levaste a minha capacidade de voar…e a vontade também.

Os desertos são lugares enganadores,
À primeira vista tudo parece igual e imutável,
Mas quando nos encontramos neles, descobrimos como tudo
Não pára de mudar.

Só há uma maneira de sobreviver ao deserto e é saindo dele.
(o que vale para ti, tem de valer para mim também).

I just love Haruki Murakami

“I think most people live in a fiction. I’m no exception. Think of it in terms of a car’s transmission. It’s like a transmission that stands between you and the harsh realities of life. You take the raw power from outside and use gears to adjust it so everything’s all nicely in sync. That’s how you keep your fragile body intact.”

from Sputnik Sweetheart by Haruki Murakami

não sou daqui e serei breve

Na extrema do terreno os restos de uma árvore vão-se agora cobrindo de trepadeiras,
No caminho uma avó baixa-se e pega na neta,
A menina abandona-se nos seus braços, confortável e feliz

Nas árvores os dióspiros amadurecem carnudos,
Cantam pássaros aqui e ali,
No céu dissipam-se os rastos dos aviões que voam alto e para longe

Eu sorrio,
Não sou daqui, não, não sou daqui e não demoro
venho aqui coleccionar memórias.