Round Here

Step out the front door like a ghost into the fog
Where no one notices the contrast of white on white
And in between the moon and you the angels get a better view
Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right
I walk in the air between the rain through myself and back again
Where? I dont know
Maria says shes dying through the door
I hear her crying
Why? I dont know

Round here we always stand up straight
Round here something radiates

Maria came from nashville with a suitcase in her hand
She said shed like to meet a boy who looks like elvis
She walks along the edge of where the ocean meets the land
Just like shes walking on a wire in the circus
She parks her car outside of my house
Takes her clothes off
Says shes close to understanding jesus
She knows shes more than just a little misunderstood
She has trouble acting normal when shes nervous

Round here were carving out our names
Round here we all look the same
Round here we talk just like lions
But we sacrifice like lambs
Round here shes slipping through my hands

Sleeping children better run like the wind
Out of the lightning dream
Mamas little baby better get herself in
Out of the lightning

She says its only in my head
She says shhh I know its only in my head
But the girl on car in the parking lot says
man you should try to take a shot
Cant you see my walls are crumbling?
Then she looks up at the building and says shes thinking of jumping
She says shes tired of life she must be tired of something

Round here shes always on my mind
Round here hey man got lots of time
Round here were never sent to bed early
And nobody makes us wait
Round here we stay up very, very, very, very late
I cant see nothing, nothing round here
Catch me if Im falling

La Lune

"Once upon a time, a king gave a feast. And there came the most beautiful princesses of the realm. Now, a soldier, who was standing guard, saw the king's daughter go by. She was the most beautiful one, and he immediately fell in love with her. But what could a poor soldier do when it came to the daughter of the king?
Well, finally, one day, he managed to meet her, and he told her that he could no longer live without her. The princess was so impressed by his strong feelings that she said to the soldier: "If you can wait 100 days and 100 nights under my balcony, then at the end of it, I shall be yours."
Damn! The soldier immediately went there and waited one day. And two days. And ten. And then twenty. And every evening, the princess looked out of her window, but he never moved. During rain, during wind, during snow, he was always there. The bird shat on his head, and the bees stung him, but he didn't budge.
After ninety nights, he had become all dried up, all white, and the tears streamed from his eyes. He couldn't hold them back. He no longer had the strength to sleep. All that time, the princess watched him. And on the 99th night, with the moon high and full in the sky, the soldier was standing watching the balcony... what do you think happened?
- I don't know! - cried the boy eager to hear the end of the tale - the princess came to meet him and they lived happily ever after?
- Well, no one is quite sure exactly what happened - the old man said. - You got to remember that in one more night, the princess would have been his. Forever. And all his dreams would have come true. However, instead of that, the soldier stood up, took his chair, and went away...
- Why? where did he go? - shouted the boy outraged,
- No ever knew what happened to soldier, why he went away, nor where did he go.
Some believe that he realized that she could not possibly have kept her promise. That would have been terrible! He would have died. This way, however, at least for 99 days, he was living under the illusion that she was there, waiting for him. Others say he became disillusioned with a princess who could set the task and watch coldly while it nearly destroyed him.
No matter what was the reason, the princess was heartbroken and didn't accept anyone to wed. Princes came from all over the world to see her. Offering all the riches and dreams anyone could think of. But one by one, she'd sent them away, in the hope that her soldier would be back by the balcony. Her father sent out messengers throughout the entire kingdom and beyond. He used scouts, priests and even sorcery to try to find him. But it was all in vain, it was as he never was: he'd vanished.
The princess eventually died of grief. The all kingdom wept. The bells of the churches tolled a silent tune, children didn't laugh for days, and the land mourned the death of its beautiful princess.
Some say that if you look closely at the moon, on those nights when it’s completely full, you can the see the figure of a princess, looking down as if searching for a lost soldier"

poetas de Constância

Só agradeço o que peço e nunca o que mereço...
A razão está nisto: só consigo ver a beleza se a conquisto.

One more time

Another sleepless night, another day of my life lost
The darkness engulfs my spirit,
and it's hard to keep even the bluest flames burning

Seeking inspiration...

Oh, for a muse of fire that would ascend
The brightest heaven of invention!
A kingdom for a stage, princes to act,
And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!
Then should the warlike Harry, like himself,
Assume the port of Mars, and at his heels,
Leashed in like hounds, should famine, sword, and fire
Crouch for employment.

But pardon, gentles all,
The flat unraisèd spirits that hath dared
On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth
So great an object. Can this cockpit hold
The vasty fields of France? Or may we cram
Within this wooden O the very casques
That did affright the air at Agincourt?
O pardon, since a crookèd figure may
Attest in little place a million,
And let us, ciphers to this great account,
On your imaginary forces work.

Suppose within the girdle of these walls
Are now confined two mighty monarchies
Whose high uprearèd and abutting fronts
The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder.
Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts.
Into a thousand parts divide one man,
And make imaginary puissance.
Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them
Printing their proud hoofs i' th' receiving earth,
For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings,
Carry them here and there, jumping o'er times,
Turning th' accomplishment of many years
Into an hour-glass; for the which supply,

Admit me chorus to this history;
Who, prologue-like, your humble patience pray
Gently to hear, kindly to judge our play
in Henry V

Calvin (2)

Diamonds on the sole of her shoes

Ripples from the Wild

"happiness is only real when shared"

Calvin

Truth

And everyday we come back for more: the magic, the sun water and fire or just a smile, a presence, a voice. Anything that helps us hold together, and allows to believe in dreams, to believe in something bigger and our role in it.

We're all so different yet so much the same, and we can be so good together... After all, isn't a flower bed much prettier than a single rose? Isn't the nightsky so more powerful that a single light?

Wanderers of our own fate, masters of our own choices, only the magic and the children inside us, may take us to be truly free: only when we find ourselves in all the others at our side, but always unique, and always with something more to give, may we really set our ground right and bloom