for someone greater than me.

there's no reason there's no secret to decode
if youc an't save it, leave it dying on the road
wide open arms can feel so cold
so cold
feel so cold

balance the books, the ledges, the loons
the disappointed look on the faces
that squint at the moon
let's see it with shadows enhance
and then vote to decide who'll advance
silver jet plane, making a turn
exciting the brain that expects it to crash and then burn
it's not the life lesson I'd've guessed
if you're conscious you must be depressed
or at least cynical
but someone might still eat the steaks
even if they're tough
spending the day
chewing the fat
floating away isn't roguh but it's not enough
oh marianne, pass me the joint
the sandpaper's tan
go-getters are surfing the point
and london's a cratch on the lens
it's over before it begins
silk 'round her neck falls down to her shoulders
the older I get, the more I suspect there's a trick
but really there's no trip at all
that doesn't result in a fall
or a faltering
but something might spit out the bait
even if it's real
rolling away
missing a spoke
close to the ground like a wheel but it's not a joke
holding the line
clutching the phone
nobly wasting the night, but it isn't right
it's not right
smelling for blood
praying for rain
running away isn't rough, but it's not enough

the low tide is telling me, when it's over,
to breathe in everything exposed
and comes back to cover me with a blanket
being here's always changing tunes

the empty sky surrounds me but i can't see at all
wide open arms can feel so cold
and you can sit beside me and tell me what it's
worth
but I hope I die before i get sold
I hope I die before I get sold
I'd rather die before I get sold

if you find the soul that you lost
frozen in a starry void
take it within and hope the sight of blood
can will signs of life to return
back to the way that it was
long before it made a noise
to keep on quietly reminding you
what's never created or destroyed

wake as the swell peaks
the close-outs drowning the birds with roars
and howls scare the new unkindness
that picks and laughs at the carrion scene

forces you see breath can always go into hiding
and wait 'til it passes over
or stay far gone for all eternity

Sue the spiders


Sink the W:oelsh

Stab your facebook

Sell sell sell

Undercooked

Overdone

Mass adulation not so funny

Poisoned honey

Pseudo science

Silly money

You're my honey

Uma das coisas que mais me incomoda no ser humano é a forma leviana como encaixou a ideia de morte no sistema mental de valores e conceitos. Como ao falar de pessoas, já não acredito em planos intencionais, só me resta dizer que esta apatia é, irónicamente além de pura estúpidez, um sinal claro de superioridade biológica , provavelmente um mecanismo de sobrevivência que inibe todos seres que me são genéticamente superiores de tomarem consciência de um fim definido das suas existências.

em poucos instantes me consegui esquecer da sensação de viver para um projecto-fim; cada dia tem que ser mais produtivo que o anterior, mais intenso, encurtar a distância que me separa de um qualquer objectivo indefinido.

Vejo-me a dar cada vez mais valor a tudo o que é definido , sobre qualquer forma de arte; percebo que as palavras me falham quando sei o que quero dizer, que as imagens me faltam quando sei o que quero sentir.

esta história não consigo contar
porque não conseguir ser é defeito
de quem por preguiça
se fez eleito
sem ser aprovado ,
sem um feito , sem direito
sem mim
de todo consquistado.

esta é a história que me falha
que não conto porque hoje , amanhã ou depois
mais uma noite inventada a dois
sem me ter
sem te ter.
um.
dois.
o maior erro de Deus.

entrou de repente na sala , colheu mais de quatro anos de vida, entre rosas de cheiro perfeito .

z
i was lying in my bed last night ,
 looking at a ceiling full of stars , when it suddently hit me .

i just had to let you know how i feel.