desolation-roww.blogspot.com
Desolation Row: Words of Advice For Young People?
http://desolation-roww.blogspot.com/2007/07/words-of-advice-for-young-people_12.html
Thursday, July 12, 2007. Words of Advice For Young People? People often ask me if I have any words of advice for young people. Well, here are a few simple admonitions for young and old. Never interfere in a boy and girl fight. Beware of whores who say they don't want money. The hell they don't. What they mean is they want MORE money. Much more. If you are doing business with a religious son of a bitch, get it in writing. You need it like you need pernicious anemia. Interdependence is the key word. They t...
desolation-roww.blogspot.com
Desolation Row: September 2007
http://desolation-roww.blogspot.com/2007_09_01_archive.html
Saturday, September 8, 2007. I saw it black down in the lake. The trees were frozen and i was shaking. Their fruits fell hardly on the ground. But they didn't rot or make a sound. I turned away from the water and then i heard somebody call. The world had been covered in shadows while i was aching against the wall. And i say: "Yes! You're all i have left, you and your frozen ground. But why have you changed, oh world, without making a sound? For long i wandered through the dirt and the rain. Pois as minha...
desolation-roww.blogspot.com
Desolation Row: July 2007
http://desolation-roww.blogspot.com/2007_07_01_archive.html
Tuesday, July 17, 2007. The words of gods lie among us. In the glazed clay of ruin. At the source of subtle bodies to know the sky. And how it was hammered into place. Where all graces are electric. And the days are all nine. And the nights are all nine. As palavras dos deuses jazem entre nós. No vidracento barro da ruina. Na origem de subtis corpos para conhecer o céu. E a maneira como foi martelado em seu lugar. Onde todas as graças são eléctricas. E os dias são todos nove. E as noites são todas nove.
deletethisblogandallentries.blogspot.com
tudo o que não apaguei
http://deletethisblogandallentries.blogspot.com/2007/08/diferena-e-repetio.html
Tudo o que não apaguei: Diferença e repetição. Tudo o que não apaguei. Ele precisava tanto de escrever. Como de apagar o que escrevia". Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile. Deus finalmente explicado às crianças. O amor (não) existe. O princípio e o fim. A natureza do mal. Angústia da mente em branco. Com a luz acesa. Os tempos que correm. Pobre e mal agradecido. Tratado das paixões da alma. Do egoísmo e outros demónios. Da arte de escrever. Como um gesto de ternura.
deletethisblogandallentries.blogspot.com
tudo o que não apaguei
http://deletethisblogandallentries.blogspot.com/2007/05/maio-ms-de-maria.html
Tudo o que não apaguei: Maio, mês de Maria. Tudo o que não apaguei. Ele precisava tanto de escrever. Como de apagar o que escrevia". Maio, mês de Maria. Foge comigo, Maria, para longe desta terra. E vamos para onde? Diz o destino. Contigo vou a todo o lado. :). Bom e também é verdade que desejo igualmente fugir. O nome não importa, pois não? Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile. Deus finalmente explicado às crianças. O amor (não) existe. O princípio e o fim. A natureza do mal.
desolation-roww.blogspot.com
Desolation Row: Nine
http://desolation-roww.blogspot.com/2007/07/given-to-rising.html
Tuesday, July 17, 2007. The words of gods lie among us. In the glazed clay of ruin. At the source of subtle bodies to know the sky. And how it was hammered into place. Where all graces are electric. And the days are all nine. And the nights are all nine. As palavras dos deuses jazem entre nós. No vidracento barro da ruina. Na origem de subtis corpos para conhecer o céu. E a maneira como foi martelado em seu lugar. Onde todas as graças são eléctricas. E os dias são todos nove. E as noites são todas nove.
desolation-roww.blogspot.com
Desolation Row: October 2007
http://desolation-roww.blogspot.com/2007_10_01_archive.html
Sunday, October 21, 2007. The Court of the Crimson King. The rusted chains of prison moons. Are shattered by the sun. I walk a road, horizons change. The purple piper plays his tune,. The choir softly sing;. Three lullabies in an ancient tongue,. For the court of the crimson king. The keeper of the city keys. Put shutters on the dreams. I wait outside the pilgrims door. The black queen chants. The funeral march,. The cracked brass bells will ring;. To summon back the fire witch. The wise men share a joke;.
desolation-roww.blogspot.com
Desolation Row: The Old Man
http://desolation-roww.blogspot.com/2007/06/abyss-is-despair-with-no-hope-to-return.html
Friday, June 29, 2007. The abyss is despair, with no hope to return below. The beggining is despair, of the agony of the initial inertia. We are nowhere in time, but not in this world. We are nowhere in time in the fraction of moment in between the two worlds. A melody, not a rythm. The world will last - just not that to what we call world. O abismo é desespero, sem esperança de voltar abaixo. O princípio é desespero, da agonia da inércia inicial. Somos intemporais, mas não neste mundo.
desolation-roww.blogspot.com
Desolation Row: Naked Lunch/Festim Nu
http://desolation-roww.blogspot.com/2007/06/naked-lunchfestim-nu.html
Sunday, June 3, 2007. What happens when there are no limits? What is the destiny of the earth-where-all-is-allowed? Men transformed into enormous centipedes. centipedes surrounding houses. a man tied to a bed and a 3 meter long centipede sodomizing him. Is this literal? Did some revolting metamorphosis ocurr? What is the meaning of the simbol of the centipede? O que acontece quando não há limites? Qual é o destino da terra-onde-tudo-é-permitido? Será que alguma revoltante metamorfose ocorreu?
desolation-roww.blogspot.com
Desolation Row: Sins of the Father
http://desolation-roww.blogspot.com/2007/10/sins-of-father.html
Thursday, October 18, 2007. Sins of the Father. God said: "Don't give me your tin horn prayers. Don't buy roses off the street down there". Took it all and took the dirt road home. Dreaming of Jenny with the light brown hair. Night is falling like a bloody axe. Lies and rumours and the wind at my back. Hand on the wheel, gravel on the road. Will the pawn shop sell me back what I sold? I'm gonna take the sins of my father. I'm gonna take the sins of my mother. I'm gonna take the sins of my brother. Humili...
