it took a heartbeat and I knew
that the candle of my life was burning shorter.
You turned me 'round to face myself,
to make me trust in what I am,
now, after all that I have done it makes me wonder I'm around.
Now the night has gone, better days to come.
All this time I have been afraid, it is not too late...
All this time while we talked my thoughts collided.
All this time I could have seen but I was blind.
All this time...
I thought I'd never see the day
that in myself I'd feel this way.
We are the meaning and we know. Forever different - the same.
Now the night has gone, better days to come.
All this time I have strained my mind, waiting for a sign.
Time is like a river that is running out to sea.
We can't touch the ground, so grab a blade of straw.
If you swim on waves of trust you cannot even drown,
when you hit the shores of love you cannot die...
wine in my bloodstream
and you all over the place
cinderella station mishap
no deeper thing in life
switching off both worlds
in a triangle of bookstore miseries
lou singing and ten alders in gales
a little shelter
just a little helper to get us by
lonely synchronicity planetoid lovers
brother wolf to christmastime malls
entangle my gold mine fast
wake me up on fourth child bloom.
I'm the King of Fire, I am Anger, I am Pain
I am Savage in my Fury, I'm the World beneath your feet
Fools revere your Master, thoughts of War you will disarm
I'm the Nightmare with the Aegis and I will not be denied
Harpies of no Morals, hands awash in ravaged lives
Witness your Perdition as you writhe... in AGONY AND SHAME!
Bursting from the sidelines, locked in firmly now
I am Power and Dominion and I will not be denied
Don't provoke this Quarrel, Thunder Roars inside
I will leave you to the Vultures stripped of all your sickly
Tyrant of our Sorrow, coward towards the deed
(With your) Stolen bands of Courage, now Assault the Skies
Don't tempt me!
Gods of War, Gods of our Ancient Might
Give me Power to tame the Savage of the Blood
Gods of War, Gods of our Painful Fight
Give me Power to break the Savage of the Blood
Father Zeus, Lord of the Stars that shine
Where's the answer that runs from above
Show me your Sign, what will I find
Eminence and Vision, Treasure, Balance, Pride...
OR AGONY AND SHAME!
"FIGHT ME... I'll be avenged for this"
Life alone or Life as One
Faith in Heaven is Faith in Hell
Prince of Fortune ride, sadness leave our eyes and shine
On all we've Won
I Trust you, I want you, I need you... til the End of Life...
Tragedy. For generations, a curse was suspended above the house of Atreus like a heavy cloud. It was ignited by Tantalus, son of Zeus, a favored one among the gods. He was the only mortal allowed to dine with the gods on Mount Olympus, a privilege not to be taken lightly. However, Tantalus’ appreciation of this privilege was appalling. He took advantage of the gods by stealing their nectar and sharing the secrets he was told with other mortals. Nonetheless, his worst act was far more tragic. This act was the killing of his own son.
Tantalus, arrogant as he was, hated the gods and wanted to test the wisdom of the Olympian deities. He thus invited them to his house for an abundant feast. For the main dish, Tantalus had his son, Pelops, killed and cooked in a stew. Why would Tantalus commit such an act? His motive was to expose the gods as cannibals and reveal his own wisdom. Ignorant of Tantalus’ plan the gods arrived at the banquet and sat patiently, waiting for the food to be served. When the deities set eyes on the plates of food they knew at once what was before them and they were horrified, all, that is, except Demeter. Inasmuch as she was grieving for her daughter, she was oblivious to Tantalus’ acts, and unconsciously ate some of the meat—Pelops’ shoulder.
The gods were outraged by this inhumane joke and as proper punishment for him, Zeus exiled his son to Tartarus where he would suffer forever. In Tartarus, the fruit grew rich and abundant, but each time Tantalus would move to take a bite from one of the fruits the wind would blow the sweet treats away. When he quenched for thirst, reaching down to the clear refreshing spring water to drink, it vanished. Thus, he remained here for an eternity.
In the meantime, the gods brought Pelops back to life again, but they could not restore his shoulder. Therefore, the deities replaced it with a piece of ivory.
Putting aside this devastating event, Pelops was the one descendant of Tantalus who escaped the curse. However, Pelops’ sons were not so lucky.
Pelops married Hippodamia, and they had two sons, Atreus and Thyestes. In turn, Atreus married Aerope, daughter of King Catreus of Crete, and fathered two sons, Agamemnon and Menelaus. Somewhere along the way, however, Aerope had fallen in love with Atreus’ brother, Thyestes, and when Atreus found out about the affair he was furious. Consequently in revenge, Atreus went hunting for his nephews, and in the same way as his grandfather had, slaughtered them and boiled their bodies in a stew. He then deviously invited his brother to dinner and served him his own children as a meal. When Thyestes had completed his meal, Atreus presented his brother with the heads and hands of his children. Thyestes thereupon fled Mycenae. Although his two sons had been slain, Thyestes had one more son—a son who was not killed and eaten. This young man’s name was Aegisthus. And the rest is history.
Well, not quite. Atreus’ horrific acts against Thyestes were not avenged during Atreus’ lifetime, but years later. Aegisthus did not allow his father or brothers to go dishonored. His revenge was obtained many years later through Atreus’ son, Agamemnon...
When the yellow's on the broom
When the yellow's on the broom
I'll tak' ye on the road again
When the yellow's on the broom
I ken ye dinna like it, lass, tae winter here in toon
For the scaldies aye miscry us and they try tae put us doon
But it's hard to raise three bairns in a single flea-box room
So I'll tak' ye on the road again when yellow's on the broom
The scaldies call us 'tinker dirt' and strike our bairns in school
Who cares what a scaldy thinks a scaldy's just a fool
He never hears the yorlin's song nor sees the flax in bloom
For they're a' cooped up in hooses when the yellow's on the broom
No sale for pegs or baskets so just to stay alive
We have tae work at scaldy jobs from nine o'clock till five
But we call no man our master for we own the world's room
And we'll bid fareweel tae Brechin when the yellow's on the broom
I'm weary for the springtime tae tak' the road yince mair
For the plantin' and the pearlin' and the berry fields of Blair
We'll meet up wi' oor kinfolk from a' the country roon'
When the ganaboot folk tak' the road and the yellow's on the broom
to peter who is alive, derek who will always be, and to you my songbook of new belief.
For if you're young,whatever life you wear
it will become you;and if you are glad
whatever's living will yourself become.
Girlboys may nothing more than boygirls need:
i can entirely her only love
whose any mystery makes every man's
flesh put space on;and his mind take off time
that you should ever think,may god forbid
and (in his mercy) your true lover spare:
for that way knowledge lies,the foetal grave
called progress,and negation's dead undoom.
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
- e.e. cummings
E tinha. Por acaso são esgotos de 1998 duma casa que já não é minha desde esse ano, mas enfim, com juros de mora. A questão agora é outra.
Depois sonhei coma expressão "camarada, amigo, palhaço" que o meu colega Peter Oswaldt tanto usava. E hoje leio um post do Calvin no blog da Kitty com essa expressão, mutatis mutandis.
Para arrumar a loja, ontem meti umas moedas no bolso e sem espanto constatei que eram 3,40, ou seja, 2,10 para o comboio mais 1,30 para o metro. Certinhos. E isto melhora com a idade. Desde puto que me lembro de me acontecerem coisas destas.
09.11.2006 - 09h10 Lusa
O Instituto Nacional de Aviação Civil recomenda aos passageiros que levem as suas receitas ou declarações médicas escritas em inglês ou em francês, se precisarem de de transportar medicamentos líquidos na cabina dos aviões.
A sugestão do Instituto Nacional de Aviação Civil (INAC) insere-se no âmbito das novas regras de segurança na aviação civil.
"Dependendo do país para onde se vá viajar, é recomendável que o atestado médico, ou a receita médica, seja, também, escrita em inglês ou francês", salienta o INAC.
Isto porque todos os medicamentos que se encontrem em estado líquido e que não possam ser transportados na bagagem de porão só poderão seguir na cabina se forem acompanhados por um atestado ou declaração médica, esclareceu o INAC numa nota divulgada ontem.
Nos casos em que a receita médica fica na farmácia, o INAC aconselha os passageiros a solicitarem ao médico que passe um atestado ou que fotocopiem previamente a receita.
No caso dos medicamentos injectáveis, é necessário "solicitar ao INAC, através de email, carta, fax, ou em mão, uma autorização especial para transporte da seringa e do medicamento a injectar como bagagem de cabina, apresentando para o efeito um atestado médico que comprove que o passageiro necessita do medicamento, assim como, mencionar o número do voo, data, companhia aérea, destino e identificação do passageiro", esclarece o instituto.
Os medicamentos sólidos, como comprimidos e pastilhas, não têm restrições nem requerem qualquer prescrição/atestado médico ou prova, acrescenta o INAC.
oh, la la la no corpo
traz-me o ultimo copo
miguel, e a cadeira
quanta pontes como esta
de cor e teoria
ponta de nuvem aberta
nos gomos do copo soez
quanta ravina contaste
antecipando os pilares,
ainda uma construção
e um corpo nos restos do dia
atira-te ao rio para gáudio da ponte
dos tropeçados num qualquer prego
mal parido e no sítio errado
em boa hora
o estado da nação é estacionário
sem reservas de 82 nem atraso
três dias de atraso
da tua ausência cega
não recolho um travo a suor
estima bem o teu lugar de garagem.
bem haja ao manuel
da tua vertical ausência
faremos o campo limite
as casas ao som da ti luísa
cartazes colados com a fé dos bons
sobre o verniz, amor, não edifico
as traves de uma oficina
encafuada no corno mais remoto
do bairro das colónias
vem-te ao ego? nos tempos vivos
(quando o pina tinha cabelo)
na fila para a micro sonhavas
como tu sonhavas um dia
largar os parâmetros velhos
como achavas, amiga,
que das ancas ao verniz são dois dedos de testa
a extrusão da esplanada vernal
e não leste, contudo, o thomas
(faço-te um manguito enfrascado
ao rir velando o ataúde de mais uma tia)
o teu bote há-de ser sempre o teu bote
e é penalty
vela-me ao menos a úlcera e leva o lixo ao sair.
A cremação estava prevista
para o início da tarde.
(Ao fundo, o Tejo,
o vasto fedor dos vivos.)
Mais do que o Requiem,
voltar a ver a fotografia
em que segurava o cão e sorria.
Ainda me mordeu algumas
vezes, o Sancho;
agora não existe
-e o Sérgio também não.
esculpidas nos anos vinte,
a falta de jeito dos vivos:
tosse, palavras ocas,
furtivos cigarros. Talvez
a nossa única vocação
seja mesmo morrer.
lixo das quimeras todas,
não ouças uma voz que não existe.
-Manuel de Freitas
Get with child a mandrake roote,
Tell me, where all past yeares are,
Or who cleft the Divels foot,
Teach me to heare Mermaides singing,
Or to keep off envies stinging,
Serves to advance an honest minde.
If thou beest borne to strange sights,
Things invisible to see,
Ride ten thousand daies and nights,
Till age snow white haires on thee,
Thou, when thou retorn'st, wilt tell mee
All strange wonders that befell thee,
Lives a woman true, and faire.
If thou findst one, let mee know,
Such a Pilgrimage were sweet;
Yet doe not, I would not goe,
Though at next doore wee might meet,
Though shee were true, when you met her,
And last, till you write your letter,
False, ere I come, to two, or three.
Reduzidos à expressão mais simples somos todos grãos de pó.