Cidade perdida no tempo

A nuvem evaporou-se 

Com duas carícias.

Foi assim que o Sol apareceu

Enganado pela

iluminária do tecto, entretanto abalada.

O odor a mar

Impregnado de saudade

Temperado com enxofre.

Foi ele que me aconselhou

A escrever às nuvens

Passageiras e incontornáveis

Com ares de espuma e sabor a água.

adenda: visões de um éden abandonado percorrem os meus sonhos. a queda das flores, o voo e um céu que contempla a paisagem.

In Alasca

actions and denials

this is my time of existing and denial. riding an icy road, all my trees and bushes drown my eyes in green and sureality. another set of errors, a sense of comunity and, most of all, a great wish to learn all over again. laying back in the sofa, fetal position surrounded by one sound.

this is who I am.

Dia F

De luto pela Fajã Do Calhau. 

Um atentado ambiental que urge acabar!

Different perspectives

Bötten. Strange word towards one abstraction. A gentle touch on a pen followed by a shadow. Big and tall, small and fearsom. At the corner of that headlight, I find a trapped bush. Slowly I try to recover it, to unleash him from his timeless prison. Dust and sun. Heat. Cities with cars, people, buildings, rubbish, cats and dogs, tweety birds and a tonality. A dominant tonality. Grey with a spice of green.


Fjörds. Norway. One pack in my back. I´m off to that big space, air and wind, my life passing by at the rate of 1.0000000000000 flashbacks per second. Quite fast hein?
Bubbles.



And a book is found lying on a tree
And a tree founds at last her missing son - a book

outside Muenchen

A bit emotional. Sound out of strings, a beginning. One last ride, with words, feelings and why not..hope. The sun comes up, fast and hot. The birds sing. A timeless song over that cuckoo´s nest. The real one, not the movie. I put my trousers up. It´s raining that´s why. And don´t be shy. Look. To me.


Be true.Calm yourself. I know it´s pumping. Heart. Lungs. My feet along with that tune. Tape. Mp3. Quite relevant. Beauty of something that you still don´t know very well. I just had a glimpse. Is it worth the risk ? Short sentences. And letters of sorrow.


And I Feel A Powerful Presence Near Me
And Smile And Eyes

Iceberg

Abyss of Flutes

Guiding, discovering and two flutes. One small succesion of acts and words, followed by three magical kisses. A dark light and a 30m lenght video stream. A warm sofa and a cocktail. My layout is very favourable now. Find an unknown strenght, talk and don´t think. Act. Walk. [the act of kissing] and look deep in those eyes. Sometimes brown, other times green. Difficult to say when. A mistery. Mojitos.


Look. Essay. Relax and let your mind float into the abyss. Now you´re free. Clap your hands and smile. You have reasons to do it. Peace.



And it was a mind crossing barrier
And a sand storm broke the night quietness

A light of Ink

A light of words. Light usually guides you through a path of darkness, but you must know what to do. Move slowly and with caution, hoping that your compass is not de-magnetized. Leadership and shyness. The ultimate guide to survival. One mistery hard to solve.



Once you think in those past actions, those past conversations then all comes to your mind clear as water. The race is on. That reminds me an old story, old ligns of writting and ink. Someone, somewhere with only the horizon, sun and moon for company. The mourning cloud with that shape, known to you. You look outside. It´s always about you! She used to say that often, but now H. was just lost. Did not know what to do or to say. Or even what to write. He felt a void in his soul.





And a naked soul is love´s next victim

And a naked heart is invisble to human eye

Zheus tells

A short story. a couple passing by, touching and talking to each other. Fighting I suppose, they where using their hands often. Near the lake, a writter was with his grandchild, watching pidgeons in the air.
the garden was immaculate. Near the tree, my grandmother lying dead. Rain. a baby girl next to her, rehearsing her future walks.
On the outskirts of my dream, I could spot a river, a big mountain with snow on top. Search the gold he said.



reign of awareness. of silence, of beauty and peace. Space in the world, nature invades humans. One last dot. Com.


And songs are the poetry of love
And crying is the lyrism of Help me

Whilst I was asleep

a dear friend left. no space for goodbyes. See you in two days time.
sitting on his roof top, watching the clouds passing by, reading J. Kerouac, Jamie remembered.
playing soccer outside, breaking the neighbours windows, singing and kisssing bye bye to their mothers, writting letters to their loved one, to himself and to the world. Peace. Crossing the road together, having dinner and spending summers and winters holding each others problems. christmas and easters.




family together.



all gone in a single breath of air.


And a dolphin gets even with me
And I tap words in my computer to get even with her

final word

Distance

A chess game with a YES

The move H. wants to make is impossible. Fear factor. achieving the ultimum level of spirituality, to take yourself to another world, another dimension of humanity. That´s what its all about. To lighten up, to fight against evil, to have a slight advantage. The realm is near.
This unknown road, these traffic lights and signs that lead me to nowhere. Always the unknown.

How is it? My ultimate misterium is to listen to the word Yes. I love acceptance.
I feel tired though.



And JK is a powerfull brand
And one book has landed into a deep abyss

Changes on my drift

to be everywhere. the power of a kind of God. dreams and stumbles. dames and cards. wine with hours. white walls, laughs, a state of mind that we don´t avoid. waiting for the one. cake. one hug, a human touch of sympathy. Understanding feelings. Social and personal affinity.


She sits down at her desk. She starts reading, page after page. Her cat and a cup of tea as company. One month on the Mediterranean sea. The true declaration of feelings. What´s going off his mind.


And its true that a child cries more than laughs
And J. sees the world with a spot of decency

Blue poetry

I have this need. Urgent. Immediat. Schematic. That eats me inside with all her power of destruction. A raw and bitter act of personality lifts me up. A prison where trees, brick houses, a lonely guy on a bus station, sea and waves, mushrooms and low tide interact constantly, not alowing me to burst. A stream of pieces of poetry impossible to write about.

Finding myself on my own, I try to get away. Two closed windows, a pair of shorts and a skateboard. Even though they speak, I cannot listen to what they say. My eyes and my body are responding physically. I´m inhuman in a human body.

The usual sad song at a Church. I listen close by.

And once again I fold HD´s soul

And a kitchen canister is found dead in her appartment

the muscular control of Abstraction

together. finally I can see a gun and a bag of fingers. black on a balcony, two bills of my last meal at Valantino. I started walking, with a milk cup on my hand. But it was awkward. No muscular control. instead of a walk, I was dancing. Madrid or Houston.
My love debt is currently payed. I have no debts. Proud to say that. I can snooze now, and start to loose some lips. One desert and a gallon of cherosene.

Who am I is always haunting me. and all those who like to think. To travel around clouds, the stars, to know what is our place in this world. I check my human list. Still alot of "x" to write in that small but important shred of paper.


And I am starting to emerge from abstraction
And reality slams into my face with such intensity that makes me laugh

a Thin spark

Again. Alone. I find myself sitted on a crossroad. Corn fields everywhere, street light poles as far as my eye can see. A blooming blue sky, with a sprinkle of a northwesterly wind. Three words came unexpected - Ajaccio, Aix-La-Chapelle and Aix-Les-Bains. Far away, I could see a tiny bit of an airdrome lightened by the sun. A chrome yellow colour invaded my eyes, and a natural reaction of closing them followed it. A synchronized choreography of two aircrafts and a zumming sound.

I felt completely polarized by this scene, my positive and negative had been scrambled. I did not know where to go, or what to do or say. I plunged into a state of pastiche.

We cannot undo the past. What a glorious ring of emotions.

And I rotted the entire plan

And my next job is soul surveyor

the Room

Lets play a game. Sit, relax and try to enjoy. Imagine yourself inside a dusty brick room, with some furniture. A sofa, a siemens tv and one HF radio. You sit by the window. Behind that black courtain that night unveils, you or anyone else, can spot 6 or 7 iluminated windows. Each one of those representing a defining moment in life. Yours to be exact. Silence, a burst of tears, trips and smiles, sport, school and graduation, sea and a sudden break of pace.

A naked soul, fragile and torned appart. But a new dawn rises. All that darkness, all those windows are gone now, locked in a distant place where now and then you have to comeback. To remind you. To make you stronger.

My road lies ahead. And I am already hitchiking. A dream is only 25 miles away from me.


And this is one relaxing audio track
And I heard that someone was lost in cheap delirium

After Lunch I Will Unveil My Darkest Secret

On a stage. Any questions please interrupt me. Alain was talking to this strange bearded guy. Dressed with a black Armani suit and Ray-Ban sunglasses. He was arguing with me over a lost dog and a pair of socks. In my other dream I shot him and felt no sorry. It was hard to watch him die, but at that moment I was already awaken taking breakfast. I like this morning.

On a slow pace, 2 nights after this one, I watched old creatures. Green and yellow. After some flowers and a feeling of despair, I looked on the other side and this bearded guy, with a cap on, shot me. I screamed "No" but my knees failed. Loneliness, a cold heart, my face against the wall and not a single chance to say my last words to a loved one.


And I clocked my breathing time in 1m:02s
And my whitest secret is loving humming birds

Paper and celebrations

Dealing with Laureen Hill. One amazing pack of clouds and Italy. Apple pie and a cup of green tea, two sugars and milk. Finding a star but not a slight memory of that piece of future. Wondering around the street, small shreds of paper where flying. No destiny, no idea of a destination. I pick one of them, and try to read it and find a meaning. Lost words as "..gratulations..on my time fuse you are already..."; " are well..in spirit with all of..." where all over the place, written with a funny letter. I tried to pick more papers, but the wind kept blowing them away from me, as if it was a sign. I should not try to solve that puzzle. If so, something in the universe would be destroyed. One connection, one friendship, a possible love.


One sudden scream. Fried potatoes and a bag of chips. Señor venimos de Bogotá.


And a memorie of my future was written somewhere
And a V-E day has been celebrated

improvisation of a renegation

One endless answer of a question. An improvised confusion. A fighting home that I need to avoid. A set of turning fists that helped me with a betrayal. She left. A commercial break on a tuesday night completed it. Are we already done ? At this stage my army boots were useless. A stream of boats and a cup of butter, with a a lion.
I hear a sound deep in my mind, telling me what to do. Walk. Wake up and say your name. Right hand seeking a blind spot.


"No one understands".


And I found a voice
And I feel that this is the End

Printing a map to save someone

Departing. No turning back at this time, everything is ahead now. A basse line and an everlasting black frontier are your life contour. Computers and fruits, sand and trees, wolves and early birds. I will phone her, don´t worry. Feeling melancholic and with no curiosity. One thing leads to another, and every little mistake is taken away. No common sense, printing only.


Now laugh. And listen to this. It´s very important. Swim away without having destiny. At some stage you´ll find a big rock. Try and climb it, without her we´re doomed. Every single life contour will be erased. Later the technician will come home and cut telephone lines. The birthday document will not be printed. Printing failure. Check the colour partridge.


And that diamond had to be returned to its rightfull owner
And Albert found a boulder on its way home

Ice creams with Scroll lock

Crepitations. Strange tunes, guided by an orchestra. Harmony and the love dictionary. A car disaster and I roll over my eyes. The horrible image is always present in that early morning, and erasing it has been my leitmotif. Working hard with Caps Lock has also been something to write about. Our relation is based in love/hate, sometimes I press too HARD, others I´m light as a feather.

A drifter,food and money. One road directed to nowhere and to everywhere. Camping by the side of the tarmac and cars. A chance of getting hurt. Sleep.

And I steal a tiller
And I have a lucky rabbit paw

Big Lakes at dawn

Oui madame, said Pierre when leaving the mansion. Two dogs outside and a car waited for him. A 5km road with oak trees. It´s late, said the cat. After slamming the old door, the future was already in motion. Driving back to his own past was a key event. Clocks,numbers and hours. Seconds later or seconds sooner. One big confusion and the time-continuum would be broken. He has just kissed a sweet lip.

The clock spoke. It was the third time. In nature, pitch dark and a full moon. On one side an island, and in the other a lake. A melancholic awakening. One eye left his emptiness. No more existencial vacuum. A wise decision.

And sometimes music changes time
And posting options are not valid

Rorschach and Mir. Feelings alongside my soul.

U2 all around us,a street with trees all over the place, people passing by dressed with jeans,tshirts,polos,with shorts and flip flops,holding hands,kissing,talking with no final destination. Searching souls,birds and a friend that´s what I do. Black clouds covered the sky and rain approached me. Fog and warm air. I stoud there with strenght. Not even the threat of a tornado would stop me. A beam of light,a single drop of rain fell on my face and it was it. Heaven on earth. Peace in Russian is Mir.


He sheltered himself in a lost coffe shop. The bar man and a couple having a cup of warm tea with baggels. Flags and old messages in yellow paper complemented this postal picture. Arizona. He asked for a cup of water and a pen. 10 minutes after we could see a message beeing pined against the wall. It was a Rorschach test to his wife.


And a gun fell in love with a bullet
And a pool table had differences with the queue ball

Love international post

When describing love stories I think in parks,trees, sunsets and perfection. It happens usually when I am at home dreaming and exploding. Only then a regular story transforms itself in perfection. And love is considered the fuel of life. In music also and in human relations. It´s big. It´s like a big mirror,it has a reflection. It also comes to my mind lakes and boats,children running away with their pets and parents holding hands. A true story.


Matches to lighten up the stove. Meat with pepper,salt,onions,garlic,olive oil,thym and potatoes. While setting the table, my faith disappeared. I felt weak and fell down wondering why. I don´t have religious beliefs. I had to lay down and drink a cup of black tea. The next day I lost her definetely.



And Simeone sings directly to the sky
And gooses migrate South

Milky way with chickens

A hand in my right eye. I started the morning thinking in chickens and ducks, and obviously laughed. Since the begining untill the end. Why is that? Any special reason the doctor asked ? While looking at me with her brown eyes, the chicken turned to the right. The dog was waiting for that moment and he clinched him. The moment not the chicken. It was a farm. Not the city. A new order.

The milky way has a powerfull presence. It makes my senses stay alert. That´s why I love to be surrounded by natural lights. Stars,fire,torches and darkness. Some mushrooms and hugging a tree transformed me in a better person. I lie. On a bed, not to you. I want to do something so I fly and skydive with imagination by my side. Left one because the right is covered with a hand. A strong shine.


And the message is carried away by air-mail
And the Sahara desert is home for the Tuaregs

Old ladies and gas stations

He founds himself inside an old room, with a wooden ceiling. A half open window and the smell of a barbecue outside. His desk full of papers, one little pencil and a candle. He wants to get away but his mind is trapped on a story. That story is a piece of his mind that didn´t had the oportunity to explain himself of what happened. A pair of blue shoes near the cabinet,a gray t-shirt by the door and nothing else. Mellow out he shouted. But it wasn´t possible. In this story we have no sound. He only sees and nothing more. Elegance he thinks. Be elegant.


The x-ray machine was off. And the city as well. A wide angle view over town and pressure drops as rain on a winter day. An old man with his wife seated on the park appreciating the view of trees dancing with the wind. Leafs flying,dogs passing by smelling themselfs and barking. On a period of golden silence, Terrence turns to Luana and reminds her. Of what she wonders. Soul mates with a perfect life. A perfect match. Lame thoughts on a gas station when driving to the beach.


And he had the chance to explain himself
And what to do when you´re in love with someone and she doesn´t know

Hands and magicians

Flames and trowns. Do you think they match? Are there coincidences or chemistry with these two words? A vision of peace ? Or perhaps hands with magicians ? It´s most likely to exist a romantic affair between hands and magic. Loose some minutes and you´ll find - for sure - that beeing alive is like hands trying to fool someone or something. It´s a game. Try again later. User name incorrect.


As we went out, I looked at the great river. I imagined Yukon and the Niagara Falls. I had a vision of Victoria Lake. It was water. Water was flowing through my mind, and I couldn´t avoid it. Go with the flow she said later that day. It was dinner time, and we had burritos. A sad dinner I must add.


And he tries to be the King of his Castle.
And he´s back in game. Full House.

Creativity and beeing small

I start reading page by page. My horizon is completeley dominated by flowers, but nevertheless I considerate it a polysillabic word. As the majority of my music. Still and nonetheless have the same meaning. He started driving through the desert sky and while the sun raised he saw a bearded navigator. Sand and palm trees, a pair of monkeys and the predictable coconuts. Azamor in Morocco and Puerto of San Julian in Argentina. Brushes. Paint. The big unknow makes you think, what are we doing here. The neverending size question. We are so small. A tear on a big ocean. Improvisations.


At 3 am we had that delirium. Someone abandoned life. Life is a gift that mankind usually throws it away. Wars and starvation. Environment and stress. Someone said that I had a stressfull life, and it´s quite the opposite. Adding pink to my days it´s considered a passage. Of what I cannot explain. Thus this abstraction.


And my Mishra Pillo is on its way home.
And stars,users with Ok on my brain connections.

Reading my last words

Harbours. War. Ladies. Windmill. West. Wilderness. Wings. Knifes. Doors and windows. Election ballots. Sky. Sheets. Papers. Bed. The "F" word instead of "W".


My cat and a common tern where trying to say goodbye with memories and their most precious moments. By the end of the day it was all over. Saying farewell is difficult to the majority of humans. We feel a stomachache, and our memories are suddendly more alive than life itself. That sadness doesn´t fade away.
Someone tells you: Know how to swim! The tide is rising!


And freedom is a beautiful feeling.
And he´s walking down the Green mile.

Hope and Tears

No. Somewhere. What? Sometimes. Anyone. Nothing. Red. Sea. Family. Maybe. Although. Yes. True. Orange. Changes. Differences. All together. Scared. Creeps. Machines. Hope.


I was connected to someone in my daily dream. I don´t know who, but it was definetely a she. A white dress,barefooted and a candid smile that angels have. She reached out her hand and waited. The waiting moment was a wake up call to me. I opened my eyes. Looked up. Stars. The Universe. That feeling of infinity. Other dimensions.
At a particular stage of this dream an anthem. Sound. A rhytmic beat. Love. Words. Pray. She was finally mine.


And the fatidic day arrived.
And she feared a tear.