terça-feira, 8 de julho de 2014

terça-feira, 3 de junho de 2014

segunda-feira, 2 de junho de 2014

quarta-feira, 28 de maio de 2014

Maya Angelou, A Brave and Startling Truth

We, this people, on a small and lonely planet
Traveling through casual space
Past aloof stars, across the way of indifferent suns
To a destination where all signs tell us
It is possible and imperative that we learn
A brave and startling truth

And when we come to it
To the day of peacemaking
When we release our fingers
From fists of hostility
And allow the pure air to cool our palms

When we come to it
When the curtain falls on the minstrel show of hate
And faces sooted with scorn are scrubbed clean
When battlefields and coliseum
No longer rake our unique and particular sons and daughters
Up with the bruised and bloody grass
To lie in identical plots in foreign soil

When the rapacious storming of the churches
The screaming racket in the temples have ceased
When the pennants are waving gaily
When the banners of the world tremble
Stoutly in the good, clean breeze

When we come to it
When we let the rifles fall from our shoulders
And children dress their dolls in flags of truce
When land mines of death have been removed
And the aged can walk into evenings of peace
When religious ritual is not perfumed
By the incense of burning flesh
And childhood dreams are not kicked awake
By nightmares of abuse

When we come to it
Then we will confess that not the Pyramids
With their stones set in mysterious perfection
Nor the Gardens of Babylon
Hanging as eternal beauty
In our collective memory
Not the Grand Canyon
Kindled into delicious color
By Western sunsets

Nor the Danube, flowing its blue soul into Europe
Not the sacred peak of Mount Fuji
Stretching to the Rising Sun
Neither Father Amazon nor Mother Mississippi who, without favor,
Nurture all creatures in the depths and on the shores
These are not the only wonders of the world

When we come to it
We, this people, on this minuscule and kithless globe
Who reach daily for the bomb, the blade and the dagger
Yet who petition in the dark for tokens of peace
We, this people on this mote of matter
In whose mouths abide cankerous words
Which challenge our very existence
Yet out of those same mouths
Come songs of such exquisite sweetness
That the heart falters in its labor
And the body is quieted into awe

We, this people, on this small and drifting planet
Whose hands can strike with such abandon
That in a twinkling, life is sapped from the living
Yet those same hands can touch with such healing, irresistible tenderness
That the haughty neck is happy to bow
And the proud back is glad to bend
Out of such chaos, of such contradiction
We learn that we are neither devils nor divines

When we come to it
We, this people, on this wayward, floating body
Created on this earth, of this earth
Have the power to fashion for this earth
A climate where every man and every woman
Can live freely without sanctimonious piety
Without crippling fear

When we come to it
We must confess that we are the possible
We are the miraculous, the true wonder of this world
That is when, and only when
We come to it. 

terça-feira, 27 de maio de 2014

segunda-feira, 26 de maio de 2014

quinta-feira, 22 de maio de 2014

quarta-feira, 21 de maio de 2014

segunda-feira, 19 de maio de 2014

sábado, 17 de maio de 2014

quinta-feira, 15 de maio de 2014

quarta-feira, 14 de maio de 2014

terça-feira, 13 de maio de 2014

quinta-feira, 8 de maio de 2014

terça-feira, 6 de maio de 2014

sexta-feira, 2 de maio de 2014

terça-feira, 29 de abril de 2014

segunda-feira, 28 de abril de 2014

sexta-feira, 25 de abril de 2014

quinta-feira, 24 de abril de 2014

quarta-feira, 23 de abril de 2014

domingo, 20 de abril de 2014

sábado, 19 de abril de 2014

quarta-feira, 9 de abril de 2014

segunda-feira, 7 de abril de 2014

domingo, 30 de março de 2014

quinta-feira, 27 de março de 2014

terça-feira, 25 de março de 2014

quinta-feira, 20 de março de 2014

terça-feira, 18 de março de 2014

Angel Olsen - "White Fire"

Everything is tragic
It all just falls apart
But when I look into your eyes
It pieces up my heart

If I only had an answer
To put it all to bed
I wish sometimes I could take back
Every word I've said
I walk back in the night alone
Got caught up in my song
Forgot where I was sleeping
None of the lights were on
I heard my mother thinking me right back into my birth
I laughed so loud inside myself it all began to hurt

So I turned on a picture show
I disappeared the lines
As memories came flooding in
The tears blew out my eyes

I see an elevator
A moment I am above
I look for you or someone
Who can still remind me of
The tight grip and the sun lick
And the calm way of all things summer
When it's all here
And it's all new
And you're not hungover

Fierce and light and young
Fierce and light and young
When you don't know that you're wrong
Or just how wrong you are

My feet are always heavy
As I head toward the door
I thought we'd leave this for ourselves a hundred times before
But I guess we're always leaving even when we look the same
and it eases me somehow to know that even this will change

If you've still got some light in you then go before it's gone
Burn your fire for no witness it's the only way it's done
Fierce and light and young
Fierce and light and young
Hit the ground and run
Hit the ground and run

Angel Olsen - The Sky Opened Up || live @ Paradox / Incubate ||


segunda-feira, 17 de março de 2014

domingo, 16 de março de 2014

Mia Couto, Solidão

Solidão

Aproximo-me da noite
o silêncio abre os seus panos escuros
e as coisas escorrem
por óleo frio e espesso

Esta deveria ser a hora
em que me recolheria
como um poente
no bater do teu peito
mas a solidão
entra pelos meus vidros
e nas suas enlutadas mãos
solto o meu delírio

É então que surges
com teus passos de menina
os teus sonhos arrumados
como duas tranças nas tuas costas
guiando-me por corredores infinitos
e regressando aos espelhos
onde a vida te encarou

Mas os ruídos da noite
trazem a sua esponja silenciosa
e sem luz e sem tinta
o meu sonho resigna

Longe
os homens afundam-se
com o caju que fermenta
e a onda da madrugada
demora-se de encontro
às rochas do tempo

Mia Couto, in "Raiz de Orvalho e Outros Poemas"

quinta-feira, 13 de março de 2014

quarta-feira, 12 de março de 2014