CURRENT MISSION

Discovering the blue light.

ABOUT ME

I like blue, and you?

PHILOSOPHY

"A vida tem a cor que você pinta."
or...
"Life is the color you paint."

[Mário Bonetti]

Why I’m on Couchsurfing

COUCHSURFING EXPERIENCE

Hitchlynchian Poetry

#!

Meeting in a Lost City of Glass

Today I met someone
I met someone by chance
Could have been futile, but was useful
I needed to understand the case
The case of the boy born
And lost in a world of glass
Then...

Today I met someone
And not for nothing I had hope
I looked into her eyes and saw a child
That brought the memory
The old southern lost boy
Somewhat loved and VELVET BLUE
Then...

Today he meets somebody
With white skin and rare lips
"It's REBECCA!”, say THE BIRDS
From a REAR WINDOW, he watches her, and feels it
She looks YOUNG AND INNOCENT
Perhaps caring, lovely, cult
However she is still THE LADY VANISHES
Then...

Today was found
By the lost boy in the LOST HIGHWAY
Who dreams of the City of Dreams
And is real in this Real Story

#@

The Dark Silence in the Dumb Land

...
Maybe the lost boy will disappear...
Maybe the missing girl will be lost...
Maybe...

Maybe they have nothing in common
Two strangers, rich of hope
RICH AND STRANGE
Strangers on a train going to the DUMB LAND
There, will stay in a DARKENED ROOM
Totally in silence, thinking to say
But words and letters linked to the silence
And will be quiet. Rich, strange and quiet
One will say "I CONFESS!" In the Torture of Silence
Then they could leave at any time.
They will walk the 39 STEPS to the train NUMBER 13
With destination back to the fragile city of glass

Now,
Perhaps lost, the boy asks:
"Why so many silenced words?
Why she is silent?
What word will be silenced?
We are going to Dumb Land?"

Now, clearly
Remains only the SHADOW OF A DOUBT in a TORN CURTAIN
...

##

The Desert of Shadows

I need only a whisper

Can not you see me?
I could climb the DUNE of hope
And you could look at me, maybe will see me
You would read my mouth saying "I want to hear you"
But today it is just an abyss
I will stay here, standing in quicksand
While I'm still seeing the MOUNTAIN EAGLE
It is so far, I think that I can not arrive there

Can not you listen me?
I will scream till feel VERTIGO
Then you might also hear me
No, I have nothing to say
No, I have, but I'm tired of screaming
I will stay here, standing in THE WHITE SHADOW

I am SPELLBOUND

Can you feel?

[Me]

Really, can you feel it?

Interests

Oh... can I tell it another time?

UPDATE:
Well, maybe I can tell some of my interests here. I just think will be restricted. But here goes four of it - 'coz... 2²=4. Ahn... Soccer, Music, Psycology, Visual Arts.

• birds
• arts
• poetry
• coloring
• painting
• music
• soccer
• visual arts

Music, Movies, and Books

- Trois Couleurs: Bleu (1993), Krzysztof Kieslowski;
- Der Blaue Engel (1930), Josef von Sternberg;
- The Blues Brothers (1980), John Landis.

- BB King, Blues Man, "I'm blues man, but I'm a good man, understand";
- Richard Rodgers e Lorenz Hart, Blue Moon, "Blue moon, I saw me standing alone";
- David Bowie, Blue Jeans, "Oh, Blue Jean-is heaven any sweeter than Blue Jean".

- O Menino Azul, Cecília Meireles, "(Quem souber de um burrinho desses,/pode escrever/para a Ruas das Casas,/
Número das Portas,/ao Menino Azul que não sabe ler.)";
- O Macaco Azul, Aluísio Azevedo, "Escrevo estas palavras possuído do maior desespero. Cada vez menos esperança tenho de alcançar o meu sonho dourado. - O seu macaco azul não me sai um instante do pensamento! É horrível! Nem um verso!".

- Pablo Picasso, Blue Period, The Old Guitarrist.

One Amazing Thing I’ve Done

I saw a blue monkey once.

Teach, Learn, Share

Soneto de Intimidade

Nas tardes da fazenda há muito azul demais.
Eu saio às vezes, sigo pelo pasto, agora
Mastigando um capim, o peito nu de fora
No pijama irreal de há três anos atrás.

Desço o rio no vau dos pequenos canais
Para ir beber na fonte a água fria e sonora
E se encontro no mato o rubro de uma amora
Vou cuspindo-lhe o sangue em torno dos currais

Fico ali respirando o cheiro bom do estrume
Entre as vacas e os bois que me oham sem ciúme
E quando por acaso uma mijada ferve

Seguido de um olhar não sem malícia e verve
Nós todos, animais, sem comoção nenhuma
Mijamos em comum numa festa de espuma.

[Vinícius de Moraes]