Kitten: And the other thing about the Phantom Lady was, Bert, she realized, in the city that never sleeps...

Bertie: What did she realize, Kitten?

Kitten: That all the songs she'd listened to, all the love songs, that they were only songs.

Bertie: What's wrong with that?

Kitten: Nothing, if you don't believe in them. But she did, you see. She believed in enchanted evenings, and she believed that a small cloud passed overhead and cried down on a flower bed, and she even believed there was breakfast to be had...

Bertie: Where?

Kitten: On Pluto. The mysterious, icy wastes of Pluto.

it's all in the mind

John: Well, in my humble opinion, we've become involved in Einstein's time-space continuum theory.
George: All right.
John: Relatively speaking, that is.

George: Maybe time's gone on strike.
Ringo: What for?
George: Shorter hours.
Ringo: I don't blame it. Must be very tiring being time, mustn't it?
George, John, Paul: Why?
Ringo: Well, it's a twenty-four hour day, isn't it?
John: You surprise me, Ringo.
Ringo: Why?
John: Dealing in abstracts

Chief Meanie: Pepperland is a tickle of joy on the blue belly of the universe. It must be scratched. Right, Max?
Max: Yes, Your Blueness.
Chief Meanie: WHAT? We Meanies only take "no" for an answer! Is that understood, Max?
Max: No, Your Blueness!
Chief Meanie: That's better

George: It's all in the mind.


o polvo está de licença sabática (pelo menos) por uma semana.

Imagem: KaterinaBelkina

Epístola para os meus medos

Sois: os sons roucos, a espera vã, uma perdida imagem.
O coração suspende o seu hálito e os lábios tremem
sinto-vos, vindes ao rés da terra, como ventos baixos,
poisais no peitoril. Sois muito antigos e jovens,
da infância em que por vós chorava encostada a um rosto.
Que saudade eu tenho, ó escuridão no poço,
ó rastejar de víboras nos caniços, ó vespa
que, como eu, degustaste o figo úbere.
Depois, mundo maior foi a presença e a ausência,
a alegria e as dores de outros que não eu.
E um dia, no alto da catedral de Gaudí,
chorei de horror da Queda, como os caídos anjos.

Fiama Hasse Pais Brandão
Imagem: Chariche


i go where the trees go

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

A minha alma fugiu pela Torre Eiffel acima,
- A verdade é esta, não nos criemos mais ilusões
- Fugiu, mas foi apanhada pela antena da TSF
Que a transmitiu pelo infinito em ondas hertzianas...

(Em todo o caso que belo fim para a minha Alma)!...

Agosto de 1915.

Mário de Sá-Carneiro

she was haunted by the dead but friendly ghosts
as her helpers they stayed as her hosts
and the reason why she kept them was her fear for herself
yes, she was dangerous, she might

drink some wine, sing all night, mess up the yard,
steal a man, rape his love, then throw it away
and she became what she tried to avoid, she said

Do now as i say, darling, not as i do.
See the way i play, kid, not do as i do.
do do dodo do do dodo do do not as i do
or you'll feel blue

that which no one knew was that her own love was gone,
stolen from her dead man long ago
their son was treated bad 'cause of her ego and selfish thoughts
she cared less 'bout him than 'bout her own

he was soft, now he's hard,
seemingly strong
all he gets is empty looks,
no confirmation
all he was taught was throught her and keep quiet, see

Do now as i say, darling, not as i do.

See the way i play, kid, not do as i do.
do do dodo do do dodo do do not as i do
or you'll feel blue

it was like a crime she can't undo

now nothing can be done and
it runs in his blood, too

it's not possible to teach a kid by preaching
when you do the opposite

Do now as i say, darling, not as i do.

See the way i play, kid, not do as i do.
do do dodo do do dodo do do not as i do
or you'll feel blue

do not as i do, hanne hukkelberg, little things (2005)


let's dance in style
let's dance for a while.
heaven can wait
we're only watching the skies

hoping for the best but expecting the worst.
are you going to drop the bomb or not?
let us die young or let us live forever
we don't have the power but we never say never.

sitting in a sandpitlife is a short trip

the music's for the sad men.
can you imagine when this race is won?
turn our golden faces into the sun

praising our leaders
we're getting in tune.
the music's played by the madmen.
forever young
I want to be forever young.
do you really want to live forever
forever - and ever?
forever young
I want to be forever young.
do you really want to live forever
forever young.
some are like water
some are like the heat

some are a melody and some are the beat.
sooner or later
they all will be gone.
why don't they stay young?
It's so hard to get old without a cause .

I don't want to perish like a fading horse.
youth's like diamonds in the sun and diamonds are forever.
so many adventures couldn't happen today.
so many songs we forgot to play.
so many dreams swinging out of the blue
we'll let them come true.
forever young
I want to be forever young.
do you really want to live forever
forever - and ever?
forever young
I want to be forever young.
do you really want to live forever
forever - and ever?
forever young
I want to be forever young.
do you really want to live forever?

forever young, youth Group


porque chove...

dressed in a white shirt with my hair combed straight
here in my black shoes and me without a date
me without hindsight, me without
when will change come
just like spring rain
falling down like sheets
coming down like love
falling at my feet
spring rain

standing on the lawn with cousins and child brides
caught for the camera on their best sides
being caught forewarned
their best sides
when will change come
just like spring rain
driving my first car
my elbows in the breeze
with all these people that i never, never need
these people are excited by their cars
i want surprises just like spring rain
falling just like sheets
coming down so hard
falling at my feet
spring rain
coming down like love
falling here so smooth
falling in that groove
spring rain

spring rain, the go-betweens

esta, porque há muito que ando à procura dela. encontrei-a assim.
e não consigo parar de a cantar com estes dois meninos.

Surfing magazines, The Go-Betweens

we used to get our kicks reading surfing magazines

wake up in the morning and the waves are clean
standing on the headland taking in the scene
just like they do it ... in surfing magazines


É amargo o coração do poema.
A mão esquerda em cima desencadeia uma estrela,
em baixo a outra mão
mexe num charco branco. Feridas que abrem,
reabrem, cose-as a noite, recose-as
com linha incandescente. Amargo. O sangue nunca pára
de mão a mão salgada, entre os olhos,
nos alvéolos da boca.
O sangue que se move nas vozes magnificando
o escuro atrás das coisas,
os halos nas imagens de limalhas, os espaços ásperos
que escreves
entre os meteoros. Cose-te: brilhas
nas cicatrizes. Só essa mão que mexes
ao alto e a outra mão que brancamente
nas superfícies centrífugas. Amargo, amargo. Em sangue e exercício
de elegância bárbara. Até que sentado ao meio
negro da obra morras
de luz compacta.
Numa radiação de hélio rebentes pela sombria
dos núcleos loucos da alma.

Herberto Helder

Imagem: TroubleNight

So I was working in the studio one day, feeling sorry for myself, when I suddenly got this phone call, and the guy told me I was selected to be the resident artist at NASA. I said, 'Well what does that mean "artist in residence", what can I offer a bunch of scientists?', and he said, 'I don't know either'.
Turns out scientists and artists have a lot more in common than one would think. Neither of them knows what is it they're looking for and they both start out with a set of tools and try to come closer towards that certain something.

laurie anderson


saiu-me da alma um palhaço a voar (agora mesmo)

(olha! entalou-se no buraco dos estores)

(... já foi.)

e agora? deixou-me a alma vazia, sem saber para que lado se virar.

imagem: spaceache


Sunday morning I'm waking up
Can't even focus on a coffee cup
Don't even know who's bed I'm in

Where do I start
Where do I begin

Where do I start
Where do I begin

Where do I start
Where do I begin...


living in the bottle

Imagem: Eve Arnold


you make me wanna measure stars in the backyard with a calculator and a ruler baby i found a letter that describes how the moonlight will lead me to the distant place that you will be

stars, au revoir simone (the bird of music, 2006)
imagem: chariche


life is hard
and so am i
you'd better give me something
so i don't die

novocaine for the soul

before i sputter out

life is white
and i am black
jesus and his lawyer
are coming back
oh my darling
will you be here
before i sputter out

guess whose living here

with the great undead
this paint-by-numbers life
is fucking with my head
once again

life is good
and i feel great
'cause mother says i was
a great mistake

novocaine for the soul
you'd better give me something
to fill the hole
before i sputter out

novacaine for the soul, eels (beautiful freak, 1996)

It's the sense of touch.
In any real city, you walk, you know? You brush past people, people bump into you.
In L.A., nobody touches you. We're always behind this metal and glass.

I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something.

Graham (Don Cheadle), Crash, 2004


Não, não deve ser nada este pulsar
de dentro: só um lento desejo
de dançar. E nem deve ter grande
significado este vapor dourado,

e invisível a olhares alheios:
só um pólen a meio, como de abelha
à espera de voar. E não é com certeza
relevante este brilhante aqui:

poeira de diamante que encontrei
pelo verso e por acaso, poema
muito breve e muito raso,
que (aproveitando) trago para ti.

Ana Luísa Amaral
Imagem: eelmikashigaru


(aqui está uma coisa que vai demorar muito tempo a sair de minha casa)