Volta para o teu sítio escuro.
A caixa onde te enterrei já está no fundo das coisas imprestáveis. Fechei-te lá com as memórias do meu sonho. Mantém-te lá. Não saias só porque as noites desta cidade se fizeram contigo.



[A thousand and one nights of this
And then I will be free.]

It rained mackerel, it rained trout

Rudy's on the midway 
And Jacob's in the hole
The monkey's on the ladder 
The devil shovels coal
With crows as big as airplanes 
The lion has three heads
And someone will eat the skin that he sheds
And the earth died screaming
While I lay dreaming of you
Well, hell doesn't want you 
And heaven is full
Bring me some water 
Put it in this skull
I walk between the raindrops 
Wait in bug house square
And the army ants
They leave nothin' but the bones
And the earth died screaming
While I lay dreaming of you

There was thunder 
There was lightning
Then the stars went out
And the moon fell from the sky
It rained mackerel
It rained trout
And the great day of wrath has come
And here's mud in your big red eye
The poker's in the fire 
And the locusts take the sky
And the earth died screaming
While I lay dreaming of you

Tom Waits*

Innocent When You Dream

"hungry mouth that feeds on the world"*

Ask anyone what sense he would preserve above all others. Most would say sight, forfeiting a million eyes in the body for two in the skull. Blind, we could live and possibly discover wisdom. Without touch, we would turn into hunks of wood.

(...) 

Windows are eyes of the house. Peer out of your prison body, others peep in. Never a one-way traffic. Seeing always implies the possibility of damaged privacy, for as eyes reveal the huge external world, our own infinite internal spaces are opened for others.

What is the fate of the eyes during sleep? They move constantly, like spectators in a theatre.

The pupils dilate during abnormal states. Drugs, madness, drunkness, paralysis, exhaustion, hypnosis, vertigo, high sexual excitement. The eye finding its ocean after the idea of oceans has ended.

Enkidu was a wild man, an animal among animals. One day a woman exposed her nakedness to him at a watering hole, and he responded. That day he left with [her] to follow the arts of civilization.

Mates are chosen first by visual appeal. Not odor, rhythm, skin. It is an error to believe that the eye caress a woman. Is a woman constructed out of light or of skin? Her image is never real in the eye, it is engraved on the ends of the fingers.

In the Ars Magna, Great Work, the Alchemist creates the world in his retort.

The eyes are the genitals of perception, and they too have established a tyranny. They have usurped the authority of the other senses. The body becomes a thin awkward stalk to support the eye on its rounds.

Why should the eyes be called windows of soul and key to deepest human communion, and touch denied as mild collisions of flesh.

The body is not the house, it is the inside of the house.

The blind copulate, eyes in their skin.

The eye is light at rest.

Jim Morrison*, Uma Oração Americana e Outros Escritos

"Can't tell the birds from the blossoms"

Describe the sky to me
And if the sky falls, mark my words
We'll catch mocking birds

Lay your head where my heart used to be
Hold the earth above me
Lay down in the green grass

Tom Waits*

My heart it's not kind
as I fast for your love

Shahryar Mazgani*

entangled heart

S.

Notes of hope

(para C., F. e M. que não se deixam derrubar, mesmo quando duvidam das suas forças.)


You can never hold back spring
you can be sure 
I will never stop believing
the blushing rose that will climb
spring ahead or fall behind
winter dreams the same dream every time
baby you can never hold back spring

even though you've lost your way
the world is dreaming 
dreaming of spring
so close your eyes 
open your heart
to the one who's dreaming of you
you can never hold back spring
remember everything that spring can bring
baby you can never hold back spring

Tom Waits*

[a voltar, pouco a pouco, do mundo da mágoa e da desesperança.
You can never hold back spring*]

*Tom Waits

Note to S.

I'll be back in a minute 
You can get it together by then
(...)
Are you the same person 
That was here before
Is it something important
Maybe not
What was it you wanted?
Tell me again I forgot.


Bob Dylan*