how to be alone

How To Be Alone, Andrea Dorfman and Tanya Davis

eulogy for you and me

the clock is going to turn back soon the leaves are already changing
we said goodbye for the final time my room needs rearranging
the sidewalks are full of people and leaves we're all turning colours
i want more radiance and less green this season will be my perfect lover
long nights for more dreaming short days to fill real and fast
sweaters for my heart's safe-keeping for my soul's heating through the cold of winter to last

the clock is going to turn back soon i've an eye upon its fixtures
the wall waits patiently for the sun's first rays and the day no one's there to witness
we gave it a go no i guess we can't exist in this
i'm going to celebrate the new year with all the good witches
little chocolate bars are for little kids i want a cauldron and the nourishment that comes with it
we gave it a good go, no i guess we can't fix it
and clocks and hearts and time keeps going but we didn't

the clock tick tocks and i walk alone like i am used to
i wanted to call your bones home but i didn't get to
your shoulder a stop over and i guess i had to
i was lonely from no love and you showed me what it could do
you showed me what i would do when i had some but it is not to be with you
and i've been sad enough and i've been mad some but what good does that do
the leaves are not upset that they're leaving their branches
things change, time passes, death happens
and what happened surely changed me
and the hereafter is full of sadness that is raw and so also sweet
'cause every time a cold heart thaws it send a river of tears to nourish the ground on the way
to the sea

i bow my head to praise and remember this
look up again to greet my day
this is a eulogy for you and me i won't forget
still i'll let go just the same


Tanya Davis

chocolate

My mother says it's not a problem
this addiction to chocolate
at least i'm not an alcoholic
well, chocoholism is my business to deal with
and no, it's not fermented
but it is still a condition

i know i got myself in a position here
when it's almost midnight and i can't find any of it anywhere
and i'm willing to get on my bike
and ride
to the store downtown
with its 24 hour selection on the shelf
how it holds my affection when i hold it in my mouth
releasing seretonin, phenythalamine all get out

and every last piece i guarantee myself to cease this
this weakness that surrounds me
but, i'm still eating it
swallow it down until i've gone another round
and then look around
there's only empty wrappers to be found

next time, ya, next time i'll turn it down

but then next time fades the very next day
and i find myself ripping through the wrapper again
a different kind, another name, it doesn't matter, it's all the same

i remember when it was a wunderbar a day
back in residence, studying, indulging in this way
peanut butter and chocolate all wrapped up together, why that IS a wonderful idea,
i have to say
but it goes back way before this
like, in grade ten, i had to have it daily, a chocolate-for-breakfast fix
i did inhale it
all twelve squares, so quickly and monotonous
it was so milky and phenomenal

oh, those were the good mornings
first class, head rush, wired by it
as a hundred grams of chocolate went pouring from my stomach to my capillaries
through my bloodstream, to my brain
and if i felt so inspired by it – i went back and got another one
i knew where the vending machine was

you see, chocolate was my saviour
broken heart? No problem, i've got these mini eggs here, whole bag of them (they were always a favorite of mine)
all different colours and just the right size
pop 'em in with rhythm and then realize
they were all gone
only then did i ever stop to think on what just happened
there i go, try to mend my aching emotions with a sugar rush of seretonin
but,
it does work
at least for the time being
although, i must admit, i do remember sneaking too many pieces than my share
if it were ever set out to share, thinking
no one would notice, no one would care

i guess i didn't really stop to note that there are other chocoholics out there

where did it begin for you?
We'll share our stories in the sobriety of my living room
carob chips and juice to get us through
a meeting of too many memories and
what's your favorite kind? It's okay, we're all here together
we'll pull each other through this time

well, i prefer, well, i don't know, what do you mean, you want names or something?
Just tell us how you feel
okay, i will...

if i had to get my fill up on any one kind i could probably not decide what kind to fill up on, i
have been in love with many a name brand
a flavour, a texture, a melt in your mouth, not in your hand
i have ravished hershey
cadbury has proven worthy
i used to dig rowntree now they have changed their name to nestle and i am not as interested
nevertheless,
i used to dig a coffee crisp at the beginning of a flick
feed my need for caffeine and then finish it
before the title even came on screen
truly, i used to dream of it
and wake up thinking of it
and i still do, believe me, but sometimes i think i consume too much of it
although sometimes not enough of it
like those nights when you just split up with
the current love in your life and it's tough
and you can't stop crying
and the convenience store is really near by
and those family size ones would sure do the trick
the truth is i'd just sit outside
until i finished it
and buy another one for the walk home
and then crawl into bed alone
just me and my stomachache
try and concentrate
think about what went wrong
but i just can 't concentrate for long
with all the sugar i just ate
that's the downfall so i guess it's just best if it get moving on
get myself a healthy habit, like fresh fruit or an exercise ball
but i doubt that'll happen
so i guess it's just best if i don't brood on this too long
all this talkin' about chocolate has got me in the mood for some, after all

Tanya Davis


e a sorte é que a páscoa veio e com ela muitos chocolates. até já

tanatose

© Izima Kaoru

(tanato- + -ose)  <categoria_pb>s. f. [<dominio_ext_ao>Biologia] 

Estratégia de alguns animais que consiste em simular a morte, 

geralmente para enganar um predador ou uma presa.

arrepio na tarde

Não sei quem, nem em que lugar,
mas alguém me deve ter morrido.
Senti essa morte num arrepio da tarde.
Qualquer amigo, um dos vários
que não conheço e só a poesia
sustenta. Talvez a morte fosse
outra: um pequeno réptil
no sol súbito e quente de Março
esmagado por pancada certeira;
um cão atropelado por um bruto
que, ao volante, se julga um deus
de arrabalde, com sucesso garantido
junto de três ou quatro putas de turno.
Talvez a de uma estrela, porque também
elas morrem, também elas morrem.


Eugénio de Andrade, Os Sulcos da Sede

verdade. não sentiram?

sweet memories

Há pequenas impressões finas como um cabelo e que, uma vez desfeitas na nossa mente, não saberemos onde elas nos podem levar. Hibernam por assim dizer, nalgum circuito da memória e um dia saltam para fora, como se acabassem de ser recebidas. Só que, por efeito desse período de gestação profunda, alimentada ao calor dos sangue e das aquisições da experiência temperada de cálcio e de ferro e de nitratos, elas aparecem já no estado adulto e prontas a procriar. Porque as memórias procriam como se fossem pessoas vivas.

Agustina Bessa-Luís


puta que as pariu

AAA AAA

Ulay & Abramović, AAA AAA, 1978

serve um blog para extravasar quando nos apetece mandar tudo para o caralho e dizer adieu adieu aufwiedersehen goodbye

the world is a beautiful place

The world is a beautiful place
to be born into
if you don't mind happiness
not always being
so very much fun
if you don't mind a touch of hell
now and then
just when everything is fine
because even in heaven
they don't sing
all the time

The world is a beautiful place
to be born into
if you don't mind some people dying
all the time
or maybe only starving
some of the time
which isn't half bad
if it isn't you

Oh the world is a beautiful place
to be born into
if you don't much mind
a few dead minds
in the higher places
or a bomb or two
now and then
in your upturned faces
or such other improprieties
as our Name Brand society
is prey to
with its men of distinction
and its men of extinction
and its priests
and other patrolmen

and its various segregations
and congressional investigations
and other constipations
that our fool flesh
is heir to

Yes the world is the best place of all
for a lot of such things as
making the fun scene
and making the love scene
and making the sad scene
and singing low songs and having inspirations
and walking around
looking at everything
and smelling flowers
and goosing statues
and even thinking
and kissing people and
making babies and wearing pants
and waving hats and
dancing
and going swimming in rivers
on picnics
in the middle of the summer
and just generally
'living it up'
Yes
but then right in the middle of it
comes the smiling

mortician


Lawrence Ferlinghetti

the wasteland

April is the cruellest month
Breeding lilacs out of the dead land
Mixing memory and desire
Stirring dull roots with spring rain

T. S. Eliot