don’t give me hope
hope has disappointed me too many times
Give me music
music has fed me
when hope would have seen me starve
– Unknown –
Tag: man
They might want to laugh,
but the smile would be slow to come.
They might want to cry,
but the tears wouldn’t well up till the next day …
– 2046 –
Love is all a matter of timing. It’s no good meeting the right person too soon or too late. If I’d lived in another time or place…my story might have had a very different ending.
– chow Mo Wan – 2046
… It was only because these Western clothes held him together that he was able to keep on walking at all – but to think of stiffening a limp, helpless body, shackling it hand and foot, and driving it ahead
with shouts of “Keep going! Don’t you dare collapse!”
It was enough to make a man want to cry…
– Jun’ichirō Tanizaki – Seven Japanese Tales
Well I opened up my heart to you
I let it all hang out
I told you stuff that no one else should know
So don’t betray my trust in you
Shame, shame if you do
Don’t drag that crap back up just let it go
Now when you write your expose’
Don’t kiss and tell it all …
If you can’t say somethin’ nice
Don’t say anything at all …
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=mSEi2n2Cxko
Sunday Munich – Expose
Life doesn’t run a clear course …
It flows through from within
It’s supposed to take you places and leave markings on your skin…
And those marks are just a sign of something true …
And when the sounds of laughter still echo in your dreams
The smoke screen disappears and nothing is what it seems
And your tears have been worthwhile
They got you through to a different place and time where all is new
To the start of something fine …
And your moments of clarity scream the hell within
When you fade like a rose in the gloom love waits outside your room …
– Poets of the fall – Love will come to you
Ph : Daniel Murtagh
The world is full of obvious things
which nobody by any chance ever observes.
– Arthur Conan Doyle –
Ph : Daniel Murtagh
Living together
is one move closer
to living apart
– Kristi Maxwell –
Ph : Ruslan Lobanov
What’s in me is mostly tired –
Not this or that,
Not at all or anything.
Tiredness like that, himself,
Tired.
The subtlety of useless sensations,
The violent passions for nothing,
The intense love for someone who’s supposed to,
All these things –
Those and what’s missing in them forever -;
All of this is exhausting.
This tiredness,
Tired.
There is no doubt who love the infinite,
There is no doubt who desires the impossible,
There are definitely those who do not want anything.
Three types of idealistic, and I none of them:
Because I love infinitely the finite,
Because I wish impossibly possible,
Because I want everything, or a little more, if it can be,
Or even if it can’t be…
And the result?
For them life lived or dreamed,
For them the dream dreamed or lived,
For them the average between everything and nothing, that is, this…
For me only one big, one deep,
And, oh with what happiness infecundo, tiredness,
A supremíssimo weariness,
Íssimo, íssimo, íssimo,
Tired…
9-10-1934
Poetry of álvaro de Campos. Fernando Pessoa. Lisbon: Attica, 1944 (Imp. 1993)
Liberty of thought is the life of the soul.
– Voltaire –
satomipoema 