Espantos #702

Saudades do Rolf -- missing Rolf

Palavras lidas #634

Breakfast Song
by Elizabeth Bishop

My love, my saving grace,
your eyes are awfully blue.
I kiss your funny face,
your coffee-flavored mouth.
Last night I slept with you.
Today I love you so
how can I bear to go
(as soon I must, I know)
to bed with ugly death
in that cold, filthy place,
to sleep there without you,
without the easy breath
and nightlong, limblong warmth
I've grown accustomed to?
—Nobody wants to die;
tell me it is a lie!
But no, I know it's true.
It's just the common case;
there's nothing one can do.
My love, my saving grace,
your eyes are awfully blue
early and instant blue.

Ditto #629

Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few.

--Winston Churchill, on 20.08.1940 as hte Battle of Britain raged on successfully holding off the Luftwaffe

Sem título #361

Illusion... delusion...

Parece que estou a ouvir #505

Oliver's Army
Elvis Costello

Don't start that talking
I could talk all night
My mind was sleepwalking
While I'm putting the world to right
Call careers information
Have you got yourself an occupation?

Oliver's army is here to stay
Oliver's army are on their way
And I would rather be anywhere else
But here today

There was a Checkpoint Charlie
He didn't crack a smile
But it's no laughing party
When you've been on the murder mile
Only takes one itchy trigger
One more widow, one less white nigger

Oliver's Army is here to stay
Oliver's army are on their way
And I would rather be anywhere else
But here today

Hong Kong is up for grabs
London is full of Arabs
We could be in Palestine
Overrun by the Chinese line
With the boys from the Mersey and the Thames and the Tyne

But there's no danger
It's a professional career
Though it could be arranged
With just a word in Mr. Churchill's ear
If you're out of luck or out of work
We could send you to Johannesburg

Oliver's Army is here to stay
Oliver's army are on their way
And I would rather be anywhere else
But here today
And I would rather be anywhere else
But here today
And I would rather be anywhere else
But here today
Oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh
Oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh

Espantos #701

Hummingbird - Beija-flor

Espantos #700

Early morning backyard visitors

Coisas bonitas #205

Sunrise at the Ridge

Coisas bonitas #204

Gigi, the cutest calico kitten!

Espantos #699

Malahat

Sem título #360

Stress is the cause of everything these days

Palavras lidas #633

Pilgrims
by G.E. Johnson

Out of the flat dry country where I seem to be
Stuck these days I'd like to sail up the West Coast
On a cruise ship with strangers and you and me
Lying in bed, feeling the engines vibrate far below.
We'd dress up for dinner in the grand salon
And dine on champagne and oysters like tycoons
And when the ship comes to port, we'd stay on
Board and walk the decks and hear old tunes
Drift across the water as we promenade
Like "If I Had You" which Bucky Weil played
So beautifully. God rest his elegant spirit.
And here we are, so lucky to be able to hear it:
We are pilgrims afforded room and board.
And each day, my darling, is its own reward.

Ditto #628

It’s a place where you can afford to fail. You can try things that you don’t know will work. If they don’t, you might find out why.

--Lanford Wilson

Parece que estou a ouvir #504

E chegou Agosto...

Agosto

Ana Bacalhau

Ai ai, o verão nunca mais vem
De braços cruzados esperamos
Ai, o céu nunca mais tem
Aquela cor que gostamos
Ai, elas dançam tão bem
Como é que aguentamos?
Ai, verão, dança também
Que assim todos dançamos

Ai, ai, que o corpo precisa
De sol para se alimentar
Ai, ai, que o sorriso chama
A luz que brilha no mar
Ai, ai, que os cabelos cantam
E aprendem a dançar
Ai, que os amores carecem
De calor para fermentar

E se fosse eu a mandar
Ninguém teria um desgosto
Se fosse eu a mandar
Era o ano todo agosto
Se fosse eu a mandar
Ninguém teria um desgosto
Se fosse eu a mandar
Era o ano todo agosto

Ai, ai, que os meses não passam
Nunca chegam ao final
Ai, mas se ao menos durasse
Um pouco mais o carnaval
Ai, que é como no verão
Lá ninguém leva a mal
Ai, o inverno já cansa
Quero um outro ritual

Ai, ai, que o corpo precisa
De sol para se alimentar
Ai, ai, que o sorriso chama
A luz que brilha no mar
Ai, ai, que os cabelos cantam
E aprendem a dançar
Ai, os amores carecem
De calor para fermentar

E se fosse eu a mandar
Ninguém teria um desgosto
Se fosse eu a mandar
Era o ano todo agosto
Se fosse eu a mandar
Ninguém teria um desgosto
Se fosse eu a mandar

Se fosse eu a mandar
Ninguém teria um desgosto
Se fosse eu a mandar
Era o ano todo agosto
Se fosse eu a mandar
Ninguém teria um desgosto
Se fosse eu a mandar
Era o ano todo agosto

Sem título #359

Their space is theirs, your space is also theirs

Caprichos #484

Farófias e

Salame

Coisas que não mudam #711

Para cá da Gardunha...

... para lá da Gardunha

Retirado do contexto #440

Half cat... peekaboo, where are you Milooooo?

Palavras lidas #632

Woman with a Hole in Her Stocking
by Anya Krugovoy Silver

Such a universal female gesture,
a woman grabbing the seam of her stocking,
tugging it forward over the exposed toe,
tucking it under her foot so the tear won’t show.
There’s something graceful and humble
about the way she will balance, crane-like,
on one foot, cradling the other in her hand,
her back bent, her face tilted downward,
trying to hide the damage of the splintered
floorboard, or untrimmed toenail.
Sometimes, while she’s leaning over,
a strand will float loose from its ponytail.
Then she’ll stand, recombing her hair
with her hands, repair after tiny repair.

Ditto #627

I sometimes joke that my greatest shortcoming as a writer is that I had an extremely happy childhood

--Anna Quindlet