quinta-feira, 11 de outubro de 2012

[O Bom Rapaz] II - Elixir Da Longa Vida

II - Elixir Da Longa Vida

Tratado como louco - apático
Tapado de remédios - letárgico
Resultado durou pouco - eupático

F.
BULA:
Radiohead
Fitter Happier

Fitter, happier, more productive
comfortable
not drinking too much
regular exercise at the gym
(3 days a week)
getting on better with your associate employee contemporaries
at ease
eating well
(no more microwave dinners and saturated fats)
a patient better driver
a safer car
(baby smiling in back seat)
sleeping well
(no bad dreams)
no paranoia
careful to all animals
(never washing spiders down the plughole)
keep in contact with old friends
(enjoy a drink now and then)
will frequently check credit at (moral) bank (hole in the wall)
favors for favors
fond but not in love
charity standing orders
on Sundays ring road supermarket
(no killing moths or putting boiling water on the ants)
car wash
(also on Sundays)
no longer afraid of the dark or midday shadows
nothing so ridiculously teenage and desperate
nothing so childish – at a better pace
slower and more calculated
no chance of escape
now self-employed
concerned (but powerless)
an empowered and informed member of society
(pragmatism not idealism)
will not cry in public
less chance of illness
tires that grip in the wet
(shot of baby strapped in back seat)
a good memory
still cries at a good film
still kisses with saliva
no longer empty and frantic like a cat tied to a stick
that’s driven into frozen winter shit
(the ability to laugh at weakness)
calm
fitter
healthier and more productive
a pig in a cage on antibiotics
[or antidepressives and/or anxiolytics]

quarta-feira, 10 de outubro de 2012

[O Bom Rapaz] I - O Céu dos Justos Será [?]

I - O Céu dos Justos Será [?]

Ser precioso nunca lhe valeu...
Injustiça - sentia na pele
A nudez que só os justos sentem 

F.
BULA:
Radiohead
Nude

Don't get any big ideas
They're not gonna happen
You paint yourself white
And fill all with noise
But there'll be something missing

Now that you've found it, it's gone
Now that you feel it, you don't
You've gone off the rails

So don't get any big ideas
They're not going to happen
You'll go to hell for what your dirty mind is thinking

...

"Um dia saberemos que ser
classificado como o "bonzinho"
não é bom...

O jeito é: ou nos conformamos com
a falta de algumas coisas na nossa
vida ou lutamos para realizar
todas as nossas loucuras..."

 Mário Quintana - Outro
[Lutemos até a morte, caro Mário]

terça-feira, 9 de outubro de 2012

Alianças - Ousadias (3)

Alianças

Aliança I – Dos Anseios
Algemou os dedos
Entrelaçou os anseios
Acorrentou todos os desejos

Aliança II – Das Juras
Brincou de seriedade
Fez juras de eternidade
Até que a morte nos separe!

Aliança III – Do Adeus
[Mas] de um rasgo se perdeu
Sem aviso, sem traço, sem vestígio
Sem data marcada pra voltar

Aliança IV – Da Incapacidade
Não foi capaz de agarrar
Por um segundo mais
A promessa resoluta

Aliança V – Da Morte
E a lembrança agora jaz
Coberta de poeira
E sombra, moribunda...

Aliança VI – Do Mausoléu
Aliança - suja e só descansa
Numa gaveta escura e fria
De um arquivo de escritório

F.
BULA:
Alianças - Ousadias (3)
Sexteto Poetrix

É um sexteto. É isso. Há coisas que não cabem em três linhas, Há coisas que não cabem sequer em palavras [jaulas - http://pilulapoetrix.blogspot.com/2012/09/whatever-cage_29.html]. Enfim... de novo a intenção é que cada terceto tenha o seu sentido independente mas que o sexteto - que a soma das partes - forme algo maior. Minha obsessão gestáltica. Por isso o "Mas" do terceiro terceto está entre colchetes: como um terceto independente ele não é necessário, mas o "Mas" conecta com o o terceto anterior, por isso - colchetes. Se é que isso interessa. Com a palavra:
J. R. R. Tolkien:

"Meu precioso, meu precioso! Oh, meu precioso!"
Gollum, The Lord of the Rings
...
"Você pode encontrar as coisas que perdeu
mas nunca as que abandonou."

"Aquele que quebra uma coisa para descobrir o que ela é 
deixou o caminho da sabedoria."

"A mão queimada ensina melhor
Depois disso o conselho sobre o fogo chega ao coração."
Gandalf, The Lord of the Rings

segunda-feira, 8 de outubro de 2012

Crise De Identidade

Crise De Identidade

Eu lírico: lorota!
Conta outra, Eu larápio...
Eu - sou [Eu] mais Eu: deveras inteiro

F.
BULA:
Autopsicografia 

"O poeta é um fingidor
Finge tão completamente
Que chega a fingir que é dor 
A dor que deveras sente. 

E os que lêem o que escreve, 

Na dor lida sentem bem, 
Não as duas que ele teve, 
Mas só a que eles não têm.

E assim nas calhas de roda 
Gira, a entreter a razão, 
Esse comboio de corda 
Que se chama coração."
Fernando Pessoa

Para ficar mais claro [ou confundir mais]:

"In speaking of the human brain as an electro-colloidal biocomputer, we all know where the hardware is: it is inside the skull. The software, however, seems to be anywhere and everywhere. For instance, the software "in" my brain also exists outside my brain in such forms as, say, a book I read twenty years ago, which was a translation of various signals transmitted by Plato 2400 years ago. Other parts of my software are made up of the software of Confucious, James Joyce, my second-grade teacher, The Three Stooges, Beethoven, my mother and father, Richard Nixon, my variou dogs and cats, Dr. Carl Sagan, and anybody and (to some extent) any-thing that has ever impacted upon my brain."
Robert Anton Wilson - Prometheus Rising

Ou seja: A nossa consciência não é isolada, ela é formada por qualquer coisa que vemos, ouvimos, tocamos, sentimos, cheiramos. É formada pelas idéias alheias, irremediavelmente amalgamada a qualquer outra coisa ou consciência que a nossa consciência tenha tido contato. Só existe um "Eu", um "Eu inteiro" composto por uma salada de "eus" que não são o "Eu" em si, mas são a matéria prima do "Eu". Portanto, "Eu lírico", é abobrinha. 
Desculpa de poeta p'ra sair pela tangente.

domingo, 7 de outubro de 2012

[Poker Face]

[Poker Face]

[P]oker wasn’t his game
Sh[o]cked, locked in a shell
His [k]indness - a secretive spear
Ojos [e]nigmáticos
Una mi[r]ada indecifrable
[F]atal - lo dice todo sin nada decir
M[a]s a realidade
Nun[c]a esteve oculta
Sua v[e]dadeira face - nunca pôde fingir

F.
BULA:
[Poker Face]

His first [and shy] apppearence:

"I chose not to choose, that is my choice 
Chosen to be a man without a voice 
For if I never voiced who I would chose 
There is no way that I could ever lose 

... 

I chose to live my life in anonymity 
Struggling along with no care or pity 
Grinding out day to day and pay to pay 
Living an abysmal life one step from the fray

... 

I shall remain filled with disgust 

... 

They have no idea what the human race is

... 

I will abstain from the liar’s race 
Because I am a man without a face"

...can't read my [Poker Face]...


A great perspective about this poem sent by e-mail from my very abstract and dearest friend, V:

"This is a great poem - It now delves into the psyche on another level and the poker face written letter by letter sustaining throughout the poem and as well throughout  language change.  He is not just faceless but concieves the back of his back, the non of the non.  Actually seeing a whole lot - for who sees like that?  It is egoless and probably more real than realNothing is really hidden from pokerface ( who does not play poker = engage with the world) . Pokerface only receeds  from the unjust world around which there are but many false faces - so what one sees in the mirror as a face really is not there anyway! . So better to conceived the back of the " non of the non."
We are all really choiceless although we think we have choices - we are but reactions to the the choices at any moment life gives us and how we react is the only little choice leftBetter sometime not to react but review - perceptions as well can be decievingNo choice is sometime the only choice.  (That is for another whole discussion)
I wil be reading it again and will most likely have a new obsevation each time I do read it.  All your poems depend the perception of the reader and not only of the poem itself- They are truly puzzles to be explored."

sábado, 6 de outubro de 2012

Headlines

Headlines

The Press::::The Pest!
The News:::::The Past...
The Day::::::The Press[ive]

F.
BULA:


It's poorish, naive, I know. But between "debates" and false hopes of changes [changing by staying in the same situation] I couldn't miss the joke. But here is my 2 cents:

We are mere spectators

No matter who win, who lose, there is only and only one truth behind the curtain. And this truth will be defended by those who detain the power at all costs.
Detach from what you read, from what you see, don't even believe in me. Take a step forward and dare to look behind the curtain.

This is not real

sexta-feira, 5 de outubro de 2012

[R]ejection

[R]ejection

[R]ejected from the womb
[D]elected by mankind - and again
[R]ejected  [I wish I was] to the moon

F.
BULA:

I Wish I Was The Moon

"Chimney falls and lovers blaze
Thought that I was young
Now i've freezing hands and bloodless veins
As numb as I've become

I'm so tired
I wish I was the moon tonight

Last night I dreamt I had forgotten my name
'Cause I had sold my soul but awoke just the same
I'm so lonely
I wish I was the moon tonight

God blessed me, I'm a free man
With no place free to go
I'm paralyzed and collared-tight
No pills for what I fear

This is crazy
I wish I was the moon tonight

Chimney falls and lovers blaze
Thought that I was young
Now I've freezing hands & bloodless veins
As numb as i've become

I'm so tired,
I wish I was the moon tonight

How will you know if you found me at least
'Cause i'll be the one, be the one, be the one
With my heart in my lap
I'm so tired, I'm so tired
I wish I was the moon tonight"

Neko Case

[Eu queria ser tapete]

quinta-feira, 4 de outubro de 2012

Spinning Wonder

Spinning Wonder

In circles she dances around fate...
Spirally wondering - fatally turning
To the same old [safe] scary place

F.
BULA:

Going In Cirlces

"I'm an ever rolling wheel
Without a destination real
And I'm an ever spinning top
Whirling around 'till I drop

Oh, but what am I to do
My mind is in a whirlpool
Give me a little hope
One small thing to cling to

You got me going in circles
Oh, around and around I go
Going in circles
Oh, around and around I go
I'm strung out over you

I'm a faceless clock
With timeless hopes that never stop
When I feel that way
You know my soul's at stake"

The Friends Of Distinction
[Cool name for a band huh? Oh, the 70's]


quarta-feira, 3 de outubro de 2012

[Amor]irse

[Amor]irse

[El amor]ibundo entre dos mundos
[És vaga]bundo - prolifera y
[Fe]cunda desafectos 

F.
BULA:

ENTRE DOIS MUNDOS

Fados!

Porque não vim ao mundo
Há mais de cem anos?
Já tudo se teria consumado

Posto assim, aqui ao meio,
Não verei mais
Os que já morreram,
Tão pouco o viverei com os vindouros…
Não sei viver
Com quem me rodeia

Nascera há mais de cem anos
Ou mais
Talvez há duzentos…
Teria sido mulher?
Teria sido pintor?
Compositor?
Escultor?
Ou teria sido apenas
O que sou?...

Por outro lado,
Não tendo ainda nascido,
A vir ao mundo
Daqui a vinte anos
Ou mais…
Talvez daqui a cinquenta,
Cem… duzentos anos…
Quem seria eu, então?...
Astronauta?
Guerreiro das estrelas?
Drogado?...
Ou haveria ainda
Poetas e poesia?...

Então… seria Poeta!
- O único Poeta deste mundo?...
Mesmo que assim fosse, sem meta!

Manoel do Marco

terça-feira, 2 de outubro de 2012

Cantabile

Cantabile

Canto a los cuatro vientos
El [desen]canto del tiempo
Mientras - [de]canto el [re]viento

F.
 BULA:


Antonio Aguilar
A Los Cuatro Vientos

"Dejen que el llanto me bañe el alma
Quiero llorar, traigo sentimiento

Quiero gritar a los cuatro vientos
Que no soy nadie, que no soy nadie
Que nada valgo sin tu querer, mujer

Quiero que sepas que ando llorando
Como los hombres, no los borrachos
Quiero que sepas que estoy pagando
Con llanto amargo mi falso orgullo
Y mi vanidad.

Dejen que el llanto me bañe el alma
No es que yo quiera sentirme un santo
Dejen llorar, yo no si que traigo
No si que traigo en el corazón

Quiero que sepas que al verte ajena
Mi falso orgullo se doblego
Que poco valgo sin tu cariño
Que poco valgo ya sin tu amor
Dejen que el llanto me bañe el alma

Quiero que sepas que al verte ajena...

segunda-feira, 1 de outubro de 2012

El Hombre Sin Piel

El Hombre Sin Piel

Cuerpo desnudo - carne expuesta:
Ardía! Corazon: no desistía...
Aún asi, nadie lo percibía

F.
BULA: 

A pele, maior órgão do corpo humano, é a nossa primeira proteção contra o mundo hostil que nos cerca. Perdê-la é expor-se de maneira irremediável.  

Great Lake Swimmers
The Man With No Skin

"If I could crawl into a shell
Then I would a mile away
Things are heavy enough already
And I really do think that's
The best that I can do
Stuck here and all
And I really do think that
Don't care at all

Take a step forwards
Don't be afraid
Take a step backwards
Don't be afraid
So go on
So look back
Stuck inside a heavy shell
Try to walk and not be pushed

And the man with no skin
I would not let him in
Would not let him sign off
'Cause nobody wants to see
A beating heart
Or a lung
Or a brain

Used to get so caught up
Used to get so wrapped up
Now I find myself feeling
Disillusioned and emotionless
Like I've been betrayed
This world let me down
In a big way
Now I feel like a dog maimed
Picking at fleas
Picking at fleas

And the man with no skin
I would not let him in
Would not let him sign off
'Cause nobody wants to see
A beating heart
Or a lung
Or a brain

It's hard to walk
With broken legs
It gets hard to breathe
Without lungs
It's hard to love the world
Without a heart
What else should I cut out?
Where do I start?

And the man with no skin
I would not let him in
Would not let him sign off
'Cause nobody wants to see
A beating heart
Or a lung
Or a brain

It's to grow a second skin
To keep the insides in
This one is obviously is not thick enough
It's time to grow a second skin
Keep the insides in
And maybe get some longer and mask"