Pixies*2

Sitting here wishing on a cement floor
Just wishing that I had just something you wore

I put it on when I go lonely
Will you take off your dress and send it to me?

I miss your kissin' and I miss your head And a letter in your writing doesn't mean you're not dead Run outside in the desert heat Make your dress all wet and send it to me

I miss your soup and I miss your bread
And a letter in your writing doesn't mean you're not dead
So spill your breakfast and drip your wine
Just wear that dress when you dine


Sitting here wishing on a cement floor
Just wishing that I had just something you wore

Bloody your hands on a cactus tree
Wipe it on your dress and send it to me

Sitting here wishing on a cement floor
Just wishing that I had just something you wore

Pixies*1

"Where is my mind.."
Best band ever with best movie ever..

Para Madrid, eu vou.. ai,oh..

Pearl jam

"I am myself
Like you somehow
I'll wait up in the dark
For you to speak to me!

Projekt Revolution *3

Projekt Revolution *2

Chico Buarque - Tanto Mar



"Sei que estás em festa, pá
Fico contente
E enquanto estou ausente
Guarda um cravo para mim".

Projekt Revolution *1

25 de Abril de 1974..

Projekt Revolution

REVOLUÇÃO..

Vieira da Silva
"A poesia está na rua."





















A.Souza Cardoso
"A menina dos Cravos."

Rainfall

Nitin Sawhney-

Regresso a casa..

Boa Viagem.. :)

Robert Frost

"But I have promises to keep/And miles to go before I sleep"

Robert Frost em Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Ray Charles

My bonnie lies over the ocean,
My bonnie lies over the sea,
My bonnie lies over the ocean, well, yeah
Why don't you bring
(bring her back)
Whoa, bring her
(bring her back)
Whoa, bring her
(bring her back)
Bring her
(bring her back)
You oughta bring back
Bring my bonnie back to me.
(my bonnie back to me)
I said bring back,
(bring back)
bring her back, right now
(bring back)
Come on, and bring back
Bring my Bonnie back to me
(whoa) whoa (whoa) whoa (whoa) Whoa!
Bring
(bring back)
Bring her back please, now
(bring back)
Well, bring back
Bring my Bonnie back to me
(my bonnie back to me)
(David Fathead Newman sax solo)
Last night as I lay on my pillow,
Last night as I lay on my bed,
Last night as I lay on my pillow, well, let me tell you now
You know I dreamed
(yes I did)
Well I dreamed
(yes I did)
Whoa I dreamed now
(yes I did)
Whoa-oh I dreamed
(yes I did)
You know I dreamed that
Dreamed my little bonnie was dead.
(my little bonnie was dead)
I said bring
(bring back)
Oh-oh, sing it children
(bring back)
Well, bring back
Bring my Bonnie back to me
(whoa) whoa (whoa) whoa (whoa) Whoa!
(bring back)
Whoa-oh, bring it back
(bring back)
Please, bring her back right now
Bring back
Bring my Bonnie back to me
(my bonnie back to me)

Rajan and His Evil Hypnotists

Rage Against The Machine

FREEDOM
Uggh!
Pull, pull
Wuh!
Come on!
Uggh!

Solo, I'm a soloist on a solo list
Al live, never on a floppy disk
Inka, inka, bottle of ink
Paintings of rebellion
Drawn up by the thoughts I think
Yeah!
Come on!

The militant poet in once again, check it
It's set up like a deck of cards
They're sending us to early graves
For all the diamonds
They'll use a pair of clubs to beat the spades
With poetry I paint the pictures that hit
More like the murals that fit
Don't turn away
Get in front of it

Brotha, did ya forget ya name?
Did ya lose it on the wall
Playin' tic-tac-toe?

Yo, check the diagonal
Three brothers gone
Come on
Doesn't that make it three in a row?
Anger is a gift

Come on!
Uggh!
Check that!
Uggh!
Come on
Yeah
Uggh!

Brotha, did ya forget ya name?
Did ya lose it on the wall
Playin' tic-tac-toe?

Yo, check the diagonal
Three million gone
Come on
Cause they're counting backwards to zero

Environment
The environment exceeding on the level
Of our unconciousness
For example
What does the billboard say
Come and play, come and play
Forget about the movement
Anger is a gift

Freedom, Freedom, yeah right

Radiohead

There There...

1ºsingle do album Hail to the Thief (2003) da banda brit formada em Oxfordshire, inicialmente sob o nome On A Friday..

"There is no there there"
Gertrude Stein.


Surge no livro Everybody´s Autobiography e diz-se que quando Stein regressou à California em meados de 1930, quereria visitar a casa onde havia passado a sua infância em Oakland, CA e de ter tido dificuldade em encontrar o edificio... "there is no there there." :)

Rewind ««..

Human behavior- Bjork.. descubra as sete diferenças entre este e o video ThereThere dos Radiohead..

Raven

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow will he leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

Edgar allan Poe [First published in 1845]

Raygun ..

He came riding fast like a phoenix out of fire flames
He came dressed in black with a cross bearing my name
He came bathed in light and the splendour and glory
I can't believe what the lord has finally sent me

He said dance for me, fanciulla gentile
He said laugh a while, I can make your heart feel
He said fly with me, touch the face of the true god
And then cry with joy at the depth of my love

Cause I've prayed days, I've prayed nights
For the lord just to send me home some sign
I've looked long, I've looked far
To bring peace to my black and empty heart

«My love will stay till the riverbed run dry
And my love lasts long as the sunshine blue sky
I love him longer as each damn day goes
The man is gone and heaven only knows

Cause I've cried days, I've cried nights
For the lord just to send me up some sign
Is he near? Is he far?
Bring peace to my black and empty heart

So long day, so long night
Good lord, be near me tonight
Is he near? Is he far?
Bring peace to my black and empty heart.»P.J.Harvey

Ricardo Reis*2

«Para ser grande, sê inteiro

Para ser grande, sê inteiro: nada
Teu exagera ou exclui.
Sê todo em cada coisa. Põe quanto és
No mínimo que fazes.
Assim em cada lago a lua toda
Brilha, porque alta vive.»

      

Ricardo Reis

---

Quanta Tristeza
Quanta tristeza e amargura afoga
Em confusão a 'streita vida!
Quanto Infortúnio mesquinho
Nos oprime supremo!
Feliz ou o bruto que nos verdes campos
Pasce, para si mesmo anônimo, e entra
Na morte como em casa;
Ou o sábio que, perdido
Na ciência, a fútil vida austera eleva
Além da nossa, como o fumo que ergue
Braços que se desfazem
A um céu inexistente.

Regina,Elis

O que tinha que ser

Tom Jobim and Vinicius de Moraes

Porque foste na vida A última esperança
Encontrar-te me fez criança
Porque já eras meu
Sem eu saber sequer
Porque és o meu homem
E eu tua mulher
Porque tu me chegaste
Sem me dizer que vinhas
E tuas mãos foram minhas com calma
Porque foste em minh'alma
Como um amanhecer
Porque foste o que tinha de ser

R.

"I know that you loved me, Chris.
I  know that.
              (beat) 

       I love you." 

Sá Carneiro..

Dispersão

Perdi-me dentro de mim
Porque eu era labirinto
E hoje, quando me sinto.
É com saudades de mim.

Passei pela minha vida
Um astro doido a sonhar,
Na ânsia de ultrapassar,
Nem dei pela minha vida...

Para mim é sempre ontem,
Não tenho amanhã nem hoje:
O tempo que aos outros foge
Cai sobre mim feito ontem.

(O Domingo de Paris
Lembra-me o desaparecido
Que sentia comovido
Os Domingos de Paris:

Porque um domingo é família,
É bem-estar, é singeleza,
E os que olham a beleza
Não têm bem-estar nem família).

Pobre moço das ânsias...
Tu, sim, tu eras alguém!
E foi por isso também
Que me abismastes nas ânsias.

A grande ave doirada
Bateu asas para os céus
Mas fechou-se saciada
Ao ver que ganhava os céus.

Como se chora um amante,
Assim me choro a mim mesmo:
Eu fui amante inconstante
Que se traiu a si mesmo.

Não sinto o espaço que encerro
Nem as linhas que protejo:
Se me olho a um espelho, erro
Não me acho no que projeto.

Regresso dentro de mim
Mas nada me fala, nada!
Tenho a alma amortalhada,
Sequinha dentro de mim.

Não perdi a minha alma,
Fiquei com ela, perdida.
Assim eu choro, da vida,
Eu nunca vi... mas recordo

A sua boca doirada
E o seu corpo esmaecido,
Em um hálito perdido
Que vem na tarde doirada.

(As minhas grandes saudades
São do que nunca enlacei.
Ai, como eu tenho saudades
Dos sonhos que sonhei!... )

E sinto que a minha morte —
Minha dispersão total —
Existe lá longe, ao norte,
Numa grande capital.

Vejo o meu último dia
Pintado em rolos de fumo,
E todo azul-de-agonia
Em sombra e além me sumo.

Ternura feita saudade,
Eu beijo as minhas mãos brancas...
Sou amor e piedade
Em face dessas mãos brancas. . .

Tristes mãos longas e lindas
Que eram feitas pra se dar
Ninguém mas quis apertar
Tristes mãos longas e lindas

Eu tenho pena de mim,
Pobre menino ideal...
Que me faltou afinal?
Um elo? Um rastro?... Ai de mim!

Desceu-me nalma o crepúsculo;
Eu fui alguém que passou.
Serei, mas já não me sou;
Não vivo, durmo o crepúsculo.

Álcool dum sono outonal
Me penetrou vagamente
A difundir-me dormente
Em, uma bruma outonal.

Perdi a morte e a vida,
E, louco, não enlouqueço...
A hora foge vivida
Eu sigo-a, mas permaneço ...

...............................................
Castelos desmantelados,
Leões alados sem juba...
..............................................

Séries*2- Prison Break

Trata da história de dois irmãos: Michael e Lincoln..Para libertar Lincoln e provar a sua inocência, Michael assalta um banco por forma a ser preso e levado para a prisão de Fox River, o mesmo local onde o irmão está a cumprir sentença. Michael, que é engenheiro civil esteve envolvido nos trabalhos de remodelação da prisão de Fox River, tendo então acesso aos desenhos de concepção. Antes do assalto, Michael estudou-os meticulosamente, reproduzindo-os, tatuados no seu corpo. Esta tatuagem serve então como "mapa da mina".. Claro que cedo se revelam problemas maiores como a sobrevivencia dentro da própria prisão.. Viciante..

Suomi