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luís soares

Blog do escritor Luís Soares

Leonard Cohen - Drank a Lot

i drank a lot. i lost my job.

i lived like nothing mattered.

then you stopped, and came across

my little bridge of fallen answers.

 

i don’t recall what happened next.

i kept you at a distance.

but tangled in the knot of sex

my punishment was lifted.

 

and lifted on a single breath—

no coming and no going—

o G-d, you are the only friend

i never thought of knowing.

 

your remedies beneath my hand

your fingers in my hair

the kisses on our lips began

that ended everywhere.

 

and now our sins are all confessed

our strategies forgiven

it’s written that the law must rest

before the law is written.

 

and not because of what i’d lost

and not for what i’d mastered

you stopped for me, and came across

the bridge of fallen answers.

 

tho’ mercy has no point of view

and no one’s here to suffer

we cry aloud, as humans do:

we cry to one another.

 

And now it’s one, and now it’s two,

And now the whole disaster.

We cry for help, as humans do—

Before the truth, and after.

 

And Every Guiding Light Was Gone

And Every Teacher Lying—

There Was No Truth In Moving On—

There Was No Truth In Dying.

 

And Then The Night Commanded Me

To Enter In Her Side—

And Be As Adam Was To Eve

Before The Great Divide.

 

her remedies beneath my hand

her fingers in my hair—

and every mouth of hunger glad—

and deeply unaware.

 

and here i cannot lift a hand

to trace the lines of beauty,

but lines are traced, and beauty’s glad

to come and go so freely.

 

and from the wall a grazing wind,

weightless and routine—

it wounds us as i part your lips

it wounds us in between.

 

and every guiding light was gone

and every sweet direction—

the book of love i read was wrong

it had a happy ending.

 

And Now There Is No Point Of View—

And Now There Is No Other—

We Spread And Drown As Lilies Do—

We Spread And Drown Forever.

 

You are my tongue, you are my eye,

My coming and my going.

O G-d, you let your sailor die

So he could be the ocean.

 

And when I’m at my hungriest

She takes away my tongue

And holds me here where hungers rest

Before the world is born.

 

And fastened here we cannot move

We cannot move forever

We spread and drown as lilies do—

From nowhere to the center.

 

Escaping through a secret gate

I made it to the border

And call it luck—or call it fate—

I left my house in order.

 

And now there is no point of view—

And now there is no other—

We spread and drown as lilies do—

We spread and drown forever.

 

Disguised as one who lived in peace

I made it to the border

Though every atom of my heart

Was burning with desire.

Peter Pan

Arcade Fire – Peter Pan (Official Video)
Directed by Storm Saulter
Styled By Ayana Riviere
Featuring Peter Pan (Remix) by Equiknoxx Music and Peter Pan (Dub Mix) by Jeremy Ashbourne

 

In my dreams you’re dying
It wakes me up
And I can’t stop crying
I just wanna live forever
Keep my promises
Keep it together

 

In my dreams you’re living
Open your eyes
And I wake up forgiven
Just a little something
To thin the blood
How can I live
With so much love
Singing…

 

Be my Wendy
I’ll be your Peter Pan
Come on baby
Take my hand
We can walk
If you don’t feel like flying
We can live
I don’t feel like dying

 

Be my Wendy
I’ll be your Peter Pan
Come on baby
Ain’t got no plans
Boys and girls
Got all the answers
Men and women
Keep growing their cancers
Singing…

 

In my dreams we’re kissing
It wakes me up
But you’ve gone missing
Born so close
But we grow apart
And all the sickness
Starts in the heart

 

In my dreams you’re dying
It wakes me up
And I can’t stop crying
Cause it’s a date night
Dead eyed American Dream
And it leaves you baby
If you let it leave
Singing…

 

Be my Wendy
I’ll be your Peter Pan
Come on baby
Take my hand
We can walk
If you don’t feel like flying
We can live
I don’t feel like dying

 

Be my Wendy
I’ll be your Peter Pan
Come on baby
Ain’t got no plans
Just a little something
To thin the blood
How can I live
With so much love
Singing…

Carl Sandburg - Theme In Yellow

I spot the hills
With yellow balls in autumn.
I light the prairie cornfields
Orange and tawny gold clusters
And I am called pumpkins.
On the last of October
When dusk is fallen
Children join hands
And circle round me
Singing ghost songs
And love to the harvest moon;
I am a jack-o'-lantern
With terrible teeth
And the children know
I am fooling.

Singularity

Jon Hopkins - "Singularity" from the album of the same name, out now on Domino Record Co.

 

Production Company - Academy Films
Director - Seb Edwards
EP - Medb Riordan
Producer - Ash Lockmun
Cast - Aliashka Hilsum
Cast - Jarkko Mandelin
Head of Music - Leah Joyce
Production Manager - Gemma Priggen
DOP - Khalid Mohtaseb
Supporting Photography - Bjorn Charpentier
1st AD - Nick Shuttleworth
Production Designer - Robin Brown
Lighting Designer - Filip Marek
Choreographer - Hofesh Shechter
Choreographer Assistant - Sam Coren
Stylist - Bratsk
Casting - Philippe Elkoubi @ OhmStudio Paris
Editor - Sam Rice-Edwards @ Assembly Rooms
Sound Design - Mark Hills @ Factory Studios
VFX by Mikros-MPC
VFX Supervisors - Stephane Allender
VFX Shoot Supervisor - Laurent Creusot
VFX Producer - Xavier Questel
Grade by MPC London
Colourist - Jean-Clement Soret
Shot on location in Belgrade, Serbia
Local Service Production Company - BAS Productions, Belgrade
Local Line Producer - Uroš Lazič
Local Line Producer - Rastko Petrović
Local EP - Rok Ban

T.G.I.F.

Taken from the upcoming LP 'Queen of Golden Dogs' to be released November 9th 2018, digitally, and on limited edition, coloured vinyl on November 23rd, via Tri Angle Records.

When a Boy Tells You He Loves You

Edwin Bodney - "When a Boy Tells You He Loves You"

 

When a boy tells you he loves you

It'll be the first time you hear this

It is late and he isn't even there to tell you this in person but instead from a car ride home from a bar in Chicago he is there on business

And of course you will smile

Because he sounds like he means it

Because you believe him

Because a boy has never handed those words to you like crushed black berries in the palms of his hands

Firm, young, full

Waiting to taste sweet with you, his arms, creeping vines begging to touch the sun, and your face saying; here

Take everything I have ever touched to be closer to you

His breath waiting to be folded into a love note passed in between the nape of your neck and his front teeth

He will remember the time you told him you felt safe in his mouth and he will never grow hungry...

Just distant

 

When a boy tells you he loves you

You will hear music

The voice of your past lovers dancing up your throat

Your stomach, in after hours cabaret, still waiting on the last call

That was when you learned that when a boy says "I love you" he means I am getting ready to be inconsistent with you now

 

This boy will tell you that he loves you

Not long after he had you waiting for 2 hours in front of a cocktail lounge

Patience is something you are working on

But no, not for him

When he asks you to tell him that you love him back, you will be in a car in the parking lot of a late night diner

You will watch the words fall into your lap like a spilled glass of white wine

You will remember the day your courier pigeon heart got lost in the wind because that was a message it did not know how or where to carry and one by one the boys have fallen as silently as the birds do

 

So eloquently they used to speak until I asked the questions that broke them into ghosts

That bled me into a corpse with so many questions of my own for the soil but they're tongues do not know simple

The things I should be hearing, the things that will make us living men in this time of insatiable yet dying lovers

When a boy tells you he loves you

Only to become silent like a folded sheet of tissue paper

Not wanting you to decrease him into the truth

 

Do not crack your face into the fullest crescent moon of the tapered bottom of a blackened sky

He never meant a single word of any of it

He is just a boy, remember?

He is just another silly, sad boy, remember?

Pam A. Parker - Brooklyn Crossing

The masts are mostly gone, Walt. Pleasure-sailors
ply the harbor, piloting fiberglass forty-footers
down from the North Shore, one at the wheel,
one to haul sail and sit, staring over the water’s face.

 

A swimmer, strong and lucky, might make it,
cutting an angle across the current, ebb up, flood down.
Jumpers, too, are rare, these days: a train is more reliable,
that third, electrified rail, half-covered, always visible.

 

On the river, among the boats, you rode
the ferry low against the water’s breast.
If you mean to stand in the same place today, old man,
it’s moved. I would not find you on the Brooklyn boat,
but browsing over the east-facing rail
of the Staten Island Ferry.

 

Coming back, you stand in the docking end,
grasp the safety chain, hold the mass
of Wall Street towers in your encompassing gaze.

 

You know me, standing at a window twenty stories up,
whether I recognize you or not.
Your curiosity seeks me out, its bare and ample limbs embrace me.
There is that between us that lets me know you.