A blank page

This places where i have walked with you could be more than just places and us more than just you and me, i try to capture your essence and i find that i can do more than i have in getting a new color, my aura is too red and and need calm around, not a person, not an animal, not a human being, besides all that i have thought – i see none of you were who i believed so i need something new, not an actor, nor a dancer, nor a designer or a painter …
I need to be strong in myself and walk with conviction that it’s time for new drawings …

SLAVE

On the edge of something good, i try to become more than a slave to that feeling and create something out of it, is it to much … words don’t set me free they just guide my way

Margem do Poema 2009

kills

The bedroom has a window, open to a new urbanization 

you can see modernity moved to the block 

where have modernity taken us 

so many jackets and no place to file them 

like words that follow it’s path and alarm you 

when i start the story again 

why are you always talking about the first times 

well it was the first time we argue 

maybe to late 

i say the kills he sais the killers, don’t know if is a good joke 

but, true, we argue over that 

again why do you talk about the beggining 

why you go back so late in time 

i didn’t today 

but didn’t understand myself by not doing so

 

As Farpas

Ironia, verdadeira liberdade! És tu que me livras da ambição do poder,

da escravidão dos partidos, da veneração da rotina, do pedantismo das

sciencias, da admiração das grandes personagens, das mystificações da

politica, do fanatismo dos reformadores, da superstição d’este grande

universo, e da adoração de si mesmo.

http://www.gutenberg.org/catalog/world/readfile?fk_files=119365

Better

The places where you have been 

the questions rose by time 

the wonders that follow the fire of the heart 

the fire in your hears 

the noise of revelation of something like a goal 

could it be so obvious so simple 

you know you are going to die and have so much time 

could you define in words what you could do 

besides what you already do 

lost in action

lost in pain 

but again more can rise 

more can be 

first the reaction towards this 

then a little more confort 

no back pain 

lighter spirit 

simple text 

poetry rises again like this 

transforming you 

generating in you 

more than before

again 

where you were 

lost in time 

travelling like your friends say 

or again doubting all is enought 

when so much is needed 

again in result of so much questions 

what was the reaction then 

 

so tired of repetition 

so tired of the same words in a different context 

a more defined approach 

more concentrated 

more grownup 

but what is the spirit that bring us toghether 

where is the answer to our calls 

could you come soon 

 

have you been away for so long 

it’s hard to come back and 

find a new place to start 

 

a new story 

a new character to follow the steps of eternity 

to show it’s own individuality 

where his he now 

where his he going 

 

could you come closer 

could you take attention to who you are 

it’s all written before 

but again i feel more open 

i feel more secure of my own capabilities 

where is the way 

what can we do now 

when all the great questions seem to have been answering it self 

well a great puzzle that you can solve 

a great mess that seems less like a mess and more like a different padorn?

 

Could you be the answer 

can we solve the great escape 

can we follow all our dreams

Ressonância

I could have treated you better …

when all the words are spoken all we have seems like pain 

all the newspapers bring us back to the places where we were and remind us of our steps 

Is it Paris, the day of the manifestation, the police in there buses playing cards? 

or London after the rain 

the words unspoken and yet to be told awakening you for a new day, a new call, another bath of reality 

when colours transform you into the matter of dreams and questions rose with delight 

this micro waves not to cook but who design you and keep you connected into the human form 

displaying more days of ballet, dance outside the auditorium

It’s an london central street  in the way to Paradise Lane 

where all reunite and rejoice where death has no name and we walk 

 

could you be more than this 

 

They ask what are your purposes

where have you learn this words 

Could you overcome the fear of being left at the bookstore or waiting at the door 

could you understand this non differences that distinguish us 

is your voice proud, are you short on breath 

can you bring us closer to the perfect circle where we are so bored we just turn to our imperfections, 

can you wait to see your face on the louvre and ask what happen that day 

could you return to the place of origin and see the mirror image of yourself express

expressed in lines that you could hear in the echo of time 

when clear thoughts can make you feel 

and where you were is not so important has what you are

and to be is just the wind blowing thought space 

when all that you have claimed is yet to be asked of you 

when you came before them and say sorry for being late 

where all can question the origins but yet don’t know what is to question 

all have been heard  and sounded the same but then a note breaks the order and all comes into a different dimension 

you fall into a new music that was not yet there

bringing you a new feeling, a new groove 

so dancing you move forward with a new spirit 

from your channel of résonance

Notre ressort est ici

Ilha do Sal

Um mergulho na Atlantis ou uma fotografia aerea
Desvendar os dois conceitos de Liberdade

Portuguese … The Fifth Empire

Pity the stay-at-home
Happy at his heart
Without a dream, lifting high
To stir his embers till they burn
In that heart he must abandon!

Pity the happy-go-lucky!
He lives cause life goes on.
Nothing at heart will tell him
More than that root lesson -
To make of his life his tomb.

Age after age disappears ,
Filling time with ages to come.
Being man is being discontent.
Let blind forces be overcome
By the visionary soul!

And so, the four ages spent
By the being that dreamt
The earth will be the stage
For that bright day just begun
In the atrium of the Dark night.

Greece, Rome, Christianity,
Europe – all for pass on
To where all ages go.
Who’ll come to live the truth
The King Sebastian died?

Fernando Pessoa

Cinema

Golfinhos que te acompanham na profundidade do mar a uma sala onde a plateia aguarda a pianista para que possam começar a projectar o filme …