Panic

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Cala-te coração!

A monologue to an Irish man/act one

The stolen peace:

Walking around a continent
that might be as well mine.
Going up and down, mountains without air
lungs without breath.
Bolivia,
your peace got stolen!
The police are no where to find.
A land lacking rules;
the peace got stolen
by the eyes of the poverty that sees
in me not even a single coin
to pay not even a single smile.
My heart is still longing
a memory that never found truth,
a pain that never found reality;
so I keep on walking
trying to save my energy
to at least be able to
keep on walking
to find god knows what
in a country that
is forgotten by the world.
The bags are resting in a lonely room,
the souls are swinging at the bar;
drink by drink
we the foreigners are paying
to not see that our eyes
got stolen by the peace
that we don´t even begin
to understand.
We exchange smiles, the ones
that don´t need to be paid.
We smile to the unknown cultures
behind the desire
to rest together with
the forgotten bags
in that lonely room.
Without peace we sleep,
without dreams we live,
without money I stand
near you hoping for
another drink.
Drink me Irish!
Drink me Irish!
I beg you please!

Clocking and waiting

They say
I have to wait
wait to know
this and that
They say:
it´s only
matter of time
time to wait
and I wait
wait to know
when it´s time
that I won´t
need to wait,
wait no more.
time that I can Tic
time that I can Tac
wait my time
say my clock
baby I will wait
(that´s for sure)
wait to know
when it´s mine
time that I can
tic-tac with you again.

Não me esqueça no Adeus

Não me esqeça no adeus
Digo e desdigo
fica mais um pouco
eu faço um café;
esqueça de meus
aborrecimentos e
lembra que algum
dia eu também soube
te fazer sorrir

Não me esqueça no Adeus
e lembra que sou feita
de medos e meus medos
são feito de vento
que bate, derruba mas
passa...

Não meu bem, não
não me esqueça no Adeus
porque quando eu amo
eu desaprendo a odiar
enão dizer adeus e
apenas o meu amar
continuado
e continuo...

Não me esqueça no Adeus
pega a minha mão,
eu ando com tanta dor
carrego tanta magoa
e o meu desgostar
e de minha alma
que ao me odiar
desaprendi a me amar

então meu amor
não me esqueça no Adeus
porque pra mim
basta a morte de definitivo...

bits of a letter

para Robbie Heuston

...I gave up the meds and sadness slowly starts to kick in again. The sun doesn´t do much to me anymore. I´ve been seeing it go down every single day by myself and my darlling it´s been so cold. It´s funny I never thought I would feel like this again. At least I´m not a teenager anymore. Back to the track, to the line of thought, I´ve been losing it. I don´t allow myself to talk much, to feel much. I am not been able to contain it anymore. My heart feels heavier than I remembered. Oh those meds, Those fucking meds, I miss them, They gave me peace for a while...

...I was such a fool to think that the world could be great, That I could turn myself into one of those happy people with the white fence and a dog. I was full of life, full of myself; but now I am just a fool. An ordinary fool. I still don´t regret it. I don´t know why I don´t, but I don´t. I couldn’t have done it any better. That, actually, was my best, my very best. Can you believe it? And I think I had to quit because I just couldn´t push myself any longer, any further, any harder. My mind is tricky fucker, or perhaps just a slow one for realizing it all now, actually in this very particular moment, that is taking forever to go away. The clock keeps ticking. I hope I will be able to hope after midnight. Oh god I can´t believe I am crying already. Writing makes me feel better, makes me see things and makes believe that what is in the paper is no longer in my heart...

...I talk to you, in my bedroom, sometimes, like you are a dead person or something. I look at the pictures, I read the old letters and fill in my afternoons with if´s and maybe´s. Sometimes I even see you walking down the streets, and I fear; Because you are not dead but in all the same you are not real anymore. You are just a memory hunting me down. I always knew this would come, but my life got a life of its own, it was rushing in my veins, rushing to live and now I guess my car crashed. Daddy always told be me not to speed on red lights.

oh my darlling
I can answer Morrissey now: My body rules my mind and I am still Ill

Torto desejo

Torto desejo
de querer construir
coméias
casas suspensas
no ar

Peito inabalável,
picado milhões de vezes
desejo torto
de chorar

O palpavel na
palma, nas costas
da mão
torto desejo
de amar

Puro desejo
de querer esquecer
que tudo já esqueci
um desejo torto
de beber

Vodka com limão
fazendinha e abelinhas
porre de mel
torto desejo
de lamber

Papai porque
esqueceu-se da mamãe?
tu e ela
desejo torto
de me fazer
nascer

Uma face,
fase curta
curta saia;
torto desejo
desejo de querer
crescer

Menina eu gosto
de ser irmã
familía
conceito torto
um último desejo
desejo andando torto
querendo morrer

(ou de querer viver em casas suspensas no ar)