terça-feira, 29 de janeiro de 2008

Sometimes i feel lost in the fog....

Painting by Casper David Friedrich

sábado, 26 de janeiro de 2008

Whoever you may be....

Always facing your absence
With complete understanding
Always sensing the reason
That denies me your presence
Never for once regretting
The time spent, spent without you

Certain that when the time is right
Our paths will bring us together
Together once again
Because I have a strong feeling
A strong recollection
That these hands writing
These simple words
Have in another time, in another life
Touched your face, drying all your tears
That your smile I saw more times than
The stars present in the night sky

A promise i recall having made
A promise that not even time
Can keep me from fulfilling

A promise to keep you safe from all your fears
A promise to hold you close, so close
That only one heart will be heard

A promise to never let you go
A promise renewed each day
Until destiny realizes the impossibility
Of keeping us apart, finally realizing that we
Belong together,
Together for all eternity.


Hold on to your smile....

If you're smiling you had better freeze it,
because sooner or later
the devil's going to tease it.
He might just smack it clean off your face,
then put a frown in its place.
Have you walking around in a daze,
while you're trying to
find your way out of his maze.

While you're being mesmerized,
he'll get you all hypnotized.
Then along comes the evil trance,
he'll even affect your love and romance.
Nothing will work out right,
as long as his evil is in your sight.

Welcome to the walking dead,
you'll no longer own your own head.
But you'll feel inflated and superior,
your true reflection won't show up in the mirror,
everyone else will seem inferior.
Others will be smiling and having fun,
you'll be minus none.


sexta-feira, 25 de janeiro de 2008

Angels falling down....

My patience for people....

"They make you wanna retreat into a hole
but i wont,NO

sexta-feira, 18 de janeiro de 2008


Running into the sunset
the stallion's eyes gleam
focused and determined
mane blowing in the wind
never looking back
he will not be tamed
he will kill to be free
death more welcome
than being conquered
or imprisoned.
Unable to be subdued
by any man
steadfast he alone knows
with fierce pride
he is not running away but
running towards life,
towards love,
towards a new tomorrow.
Always the mender of souls
searching to mend his own...

Caryn M. Day-Suarez

terça-feira, 15 de janeiro de 2008

White Shadow....

Vivo a minha existencia nas escuras sombras
das minhas acções e crenças,trazidas a vida
pelas minhas esperanças e medos,as vezes nas
lagrimas das minhas desilusões,
desejando encontrar aquilo que se encontra para lá
de todas estas falsas aparências,
buscando tudo aquilo que é real.
Desesperadamente procurando por essa esquiva
Sombra Branca....


White Shadow....

I live my existence in the dark shadows
of my actions and beliefs,
brought to life by my hopes and fears
sometimes in the tears of my disillusions
hoping to find what is beyond all this
false appearances seeking all that is real,
Desperatly searching for that elusive
White Shadow....


quarta-feira, 9 de janeiro de 2008


Count your garden by the flowers,
Never by the leaves that fall.
Count your days by golden hours,
Don't remember clouds at all.
Count your nights by stars, not shadows.
Count your years with smiles, not tears.
Count your blessings, not your troubles.
Count your age by friends, not years.

Author Unknown

The photograph in this post is from Fernando Dinis
and is shown here with the author's consent.

terça-feira, 8 de janeiro de 2008

Some quotes....

It is not the mountain we conquer
but ourselves.

Sir Edmund Hillary

I love my past. I love my present. I'm not ashamed of what I've had, and I'm not sad because I have it no longer.

Colette, The Last of Cheri

Nobody really cares if you're miserable, so you might as well be happy.

Cynthia Nelms

segunda-feira, 7 de janeiro de 2008

Dont cry....

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the mornings hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight,
I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die.

Author unknown
Commonly attributed to several authors

sexta-feira, 4 de janeiro de 2008


"We do not know our own souls, let alone
the souls of others."

Virginia Woolf

"We Are The Children Of The Atomic Age".....

For we are the children of the Atomic Age
Before our birth our genes were coded and spliced

Yet the earth, the earth, is beautiful

For fallout the wind brings that we cannot see
For nuclear power plants and missiles mapping our trails

Yet the earth is so beautiful

For the deception of powerful men we pay and pay
For their so strange illusion of boundless power

Yet the earth, the earth is so beautiful

for bald eagles and other endangered species
for the tragic magnificence of all the doomed

Yet the earth is beautiful everywhere

For people born today who will not live too long
For the medical profession which has no enduring cure

Yet the earth is beautiful still beautiful

For how we turn to flora and fauna for healing and love
for how those men's vision wins out over the earth

Yet the earth is still beautiful

How we dream again of her green vegetative hair
How they dream of an abstract ghostly heaven

Yet the earth, the earth, is beautiful

For our irradiated food and pesticide-drenched crops
For our vast indulgences that led to these disasters

Yet the earth is still beautiful

For foolish men's dreams of escaping to the stars
For their deadly machinery and all its effects

Yet the earth, the earth, is beautiful everywhere

for how the polar caps are really melting
for our prophecies of falling into the sea

Yet the earth, the earth and sea, are beautiful

For the thousands of species that have already died
For us who would like to survive---
For the earth / sea / sky are beautiful, so beautiful


For how nature's subtle patterns resemble one another
How fireflies mirror the distant stars

And Hindu palaces look like children's sandcastles
And the sea contains butterfly patterned fish

For how black bats spread darkness with their caped wings
And light and shadow coruscate in a dance

For how shadows sew the living and dead together
And spirals connect us--fetuses, snails, corpses--
in the world's coiled womb

For how the willow's slender leaves drop like tears
And foxgloves, little delicate bells of dawn,
sway to the gong of the wind

For how mountains are molded like breasts
And cowparsnip umbels delicate as grandma's white lace

And coleuses might have been daubed by artists' brushes

For how bird of paradise have beaks sharp as feathered birds'
And hummingbirds, fishes, frogs and stars share in the
world's iridescent luminescence

And for how the trees' leaves are their mantle of hair
That they shed and grow, grow and shed and shed and grow again

And for how cat, zebra, raccoon and tiger lily
Are marked by the same winddriven eternal fingers

For how our eyes sparkle like jewels, illuminating darkness--
Brown for the earth, blue for the sky, green for the sea

And for how our bodies contain arteries of water
Like the earth its net of oceans, lakes and rivers--
Its profusion of life sustaining blood

For how the sun rises each morning on its own legs
And disappears each night into a mesh of crimson darkness

And for how the moon trails the sea after it
Like a bride a billowing wedding train

For how fresh snow is like froth of foam capped waves
And for the rainbow painting arches in the sky

And for how we are here today in the flesh
And for how soon there may be few left like us

For we--we are the children--of the Atomic Age

For all this and for the earth, the earth,
Which is beautiful, still beautiful everywhere we go

Copyright (c) Erika Horn 2003. All rights reserved.

quinta-feira, 3 de janeiro de 2008


“The closest to being in control we will ever be is in that moment that we realize we're not.”

Brian Kessler

quarta-feira, 2 de janeiro de 2008

We Are All Adrift....

We are all adrift
on a sea of confusion.
Unknowing of which way to go.
Unsure of the difference
in truth and illusion.
Or when to go fast
or move slow!
Unsure who to trust,
with things we are feeling.
Not knowing how much
we should share!
Afraid to relinquish
the whole of our heart!
Yet, longing to have
someone care!
We must stay afloat
on this sea of confusion,
though some days
we flounder, at best!
Our spirit is sodden.
Our heart feels deflated.
Our soul is not
up to the quest

June Kellum


If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

Rudyard Kipling


Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis