Bisous

Manuel de Freitas

ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE 1


E no entanto regressamos
-- aos becos onde o sangue
insiste em não ser tocado e visto.
À espera de novos punhais. Quem sabe?

Talvez a vontade -- desejo de anulação
nos braços tranquilos de ninguém.
Ou simples obstinação da carne, a levar-nos
por onde jurámos não ir, lembrados
das vísceras e das intempéries
a que emprestámos poemas mais
ou menos maus e uma urgência igual
à que julgamos sentir agora.

O amor? Não me fodam.
Apenas um filme sem enredo
que já vimos demasiadas vezes
e que vai continuar a acabar mal

-- como a puta da vida, aliás.

emboras e caminhos

Maïa Vidal - Alphabet Of My Phobias

I want to write a song about 
the words I live without
The words I cannot say 
In hopes they go away

I want to write a songabout
the words that I cut out
my verbal repertoire
voided now here they are

A as in abortion, 
animal cruelty,
and B is for the bees
C is climate change, 
D is doomsday, 
E is earthquake
F my fear of flying, 
G is global warming, 
and H is Haiti
Ice caps melt
and Judgment Day

These are the words I had to erase
These are the things I won't have to face
Cause I live in a world of peace and harmony 
I don't read the news so it doesn't touch me

K is for the killers, 
L is for the liars, 
Mama why'd you bring me here
Cause you knew about the Nukes, 
and I'm sure you knew 
about Over-Population
So maybe I should Quit, 
cause I don't wanna Risk 
Seeing this Transpire
Safe Under the ground,
I won't have to View
This World as it expires,
Y and Z

These are the words I could not erase
These are the things I will have to face
Cause I live in a world of war and poverty
I don't read the news but it still touches me

And there's something kinda nice
About living in end times,
we don't believe in god 
just turning out the lights

I could start smoking again
and it wouldn't even matter
cause the world won't be around 
long enough for me to get cancer

I know this to be true,
but I don't see it as bad
think we had a good run
look at all the fun we had

and I live life every day,
and if these words are my last,
then I'll love it even more
cause I'll know it's all I had

Paris Texas (deserto e fragilidade humana ou solidão)

Man : I knew these people, these two people. They were in love with each other. The girl was very young, about 17 or 18 I guess and the guy was quite a bit older. He was kind of raggedy and wild. And she was very beautiful , you know. And together they turned everything into a kind of an adventure. And she liked that. Just an ordinary trip down the grocery store was full of adventure . They were always laughing at stupid things. He liked to make her laugh and they didn’t much care for anything else because all they wanted to do was be with each other. They were always together and he...he loved her more than he ever felt possible. He couldn’t stand being away from her during the day when he went to work. So he’d quit just to be home with her. Then he got another job when the money ran out.
And then he quit again. But pretty soon she started to worry.

Woman : 'bout what?

Man : Money I guess. Not having enough. Not knowing when the next cheque was coming in.

Woman : Yeah, I know that feeling.

Man : So he started to get kind of torn inside.

Woman: How do you mean?

Man: Well he knew he had to work to support her, but he couldn’t stand being away from her either.

Woman : Lassie!

Man : And the more he was away from her , the crazier he got. Except now he got really crazy. He started imagining all kinds of things.

Woman: Like what?

Man: He started thinking that she was seeing other men on the sly. He’d come home from work and accuse her of spending the day with somebody else. He’d yell at her and break things in the trailer.

Woman : The trailer……

Man: Yes, they’d lived in a trailer home. Anyway, he started to drink real bad and he’d stay out late to test her to see if she’d get jealous. He wanted her to get jealous. But she didn’t. She just worried about him. But that got him even madder. He thought if she’d never get jealous of him that she didn’t really care about him. Jealousy was a sign of her love for him. And then one night, one night she told him that she was pregnant. She was about three or four months pregnant. And he didn’t even know. And then suddenly everything changed. He stopped drinking, got a steady job. He was convinced that she loved him now because she was carrying his child and he was going to dedicate himself to making a home for her. But a funny thing started to happen. He didn’t even know to set it first. She started to change. But the day the baby was born she began to get irritated with everything around her. She got mad at everything. Even the baby seemed to be an injustice to her. He kept trying to make everything all right for her. Buy her things, take her out to dinner once a week. But nothing seemed to satisfy her. About two years he struggled to pull them back together like they were when they first met. But finally he knew that it was never gonna work out. So he hit the bottle again. But this time it got mean. This time when he came out late at night, she wasn’t worried about him, nor jealous.

She was just enraged. She accused him of holding her captive by making her have a baby. She told him that she dreamed about escaping. That was all she dreamed about: escape. She saw herself at night running naked down a highway; running across fields; running down river beds; always running and always just when she was about to get away, he’d be there. He would stop her somehow. He would just appear and stop her. And when she told him these dreams, he believed them. He knew she had to be stopped when she’d leave him forever. So he tied a cow bell to her ankle so he could hear at night if she tried to get out of bed. But she learnt how to muffle the bell by stuffing her sock into it and inching her way out of the bed and into the night. He caught her one night when the sock fell out and he heard her trying to run to the highway. Caught her and dragged her back to the trailer and tied her to the stool with his belt. He just left her there, went back to bed and lay there listening to her scream. Then he listened to his son scream and he was surprised at himself because he didn’t feel anything anymore. All he wanted to do was sleep. For the first time he wished he were far away, lost in the deep, vast country where nobody knew him. Somewhere without language or streets. And he dreamed about this place without knowing its name. And when he woke up he was on fire. There were blue flames burning the sheets of his bed, and he ran through the flames toward the only two people he loved. But they were gone. His arms were burning and he threw himself outside and rolled on the wet ground. Then he ran. He never looked back at the fire. He just ran. He ran until the sun came up and he couldn’t run any further. And when the sun went down, he ran again. For five days he ran like this until every sign of man had disappeared.

Um livro a ler absolutamente

“Is it true the natives think the camera steals their souls?”
“Some of them. The sensible ones.”


                          Pat Barker, The Ghost Road (New York: Dutton, 1995), p. 86.

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