hades' lounge

everyone here is fucked up
killing mind for a bit of fun
down the alley to the lounge
where we hang around

fuck my mind so I can try
to see things as I used to
make me back a child
when I had not even a clue

over the hedge of common
lies a plain made of hobos
who won't regret
to let the other side lie down
I should forget those times

fuck my mind
so can I live in lucidity
pay me a beer
here in the city
lights

let's go out
for some kicks
call out our pal
hades
owner of this joint
this shit
bring his whisky
savor this bourbon piss
don't miss
your other life

as I lose integrity
structure
rhyme
my life means more
and less

but who are your references?
I might be a mess
but you are just another pawn
in someone else's chess
wanting to be queen
but never reaching clean
the next square.

flood over fire

I am deaf dumb numb and blind, but above all I'm tired, of seeking something that can never be found, at least not outside. there is a chill in the back of my spine, and it's kind of fun thinking about this one. maybe the mask will fall, just like them all. but who knows? I might be wrong... maybe I'll lose myself to this choir, to this mellow, tender sound that comes from the aisle. lost to it everyday until I die. or maybe not... I might find peace at the bottomline, at the last of my twenty pack, in lack of something better to cry for than my own life. full of doubt, as always. I might go for the inner fire, the peace within the war. yet, it feels like this war is lost. this soldier is tired to fight. deaf dumb numb and blind... as always.

on the children of janus

for we are one
no more.

one speaks the language of Light
to cut away darkness and myth
words made of pristine purity
crystal clear clarity
to melt madness away

one speaks shadows
seeking the silence of demons
that haunt and inhabit
many a silent soul
in hoping to heal his own

for we are one.

peace through fire

crack my skin to fall from grace
lose the boy that once made haste
to sit back and enjoy a life
of nothing more than taking pride

while I'll throw myself to the lion
you'll enjoy your child
commit yourself to this peaceful lie
and you'll believe this is your line

I'd rather be torn apart
than fight half a war
seeking what I desire

until the last breath
lost to death
I'll find peace through fire.

Augusto dos Anjos

A gosto dos anjos
Agosto dos anjos

Hoje o Poeta Morreu

Hoje o poeta morreu
Não lembremos do poeta
Hoje ele foi
E ele nem sabe pra onde foi

Se lembrarmos do poeta
Lembremos ao contrário
Porque ele foi mal
Porque ele foi vil
Porque ele foi
O que ele não foi
E assim não dói lembrar

Hoje o poeta
É uma página escrita
E tombada
É bruma, é espuma
É um relâmpago no céu
Dentro de alguém
(que ele nem sabe quem é)

O poeta é lenda
Nem existiu
Ele não é
Ele é a negação do ser
Como o conhecemos, ser
Ele negou
E anda por aí, negando

O poeta é pedra
Em cima de pedra
E pedra
Sobre um tempo
E ergue o tempo

O poeta é secular,
Seculento
Ele tem sabor à língua
Ele é da língua
Uma papila
Uma célula.

Ele foi cuspido (a língua mordeu-se)
O tempo o negou
Ele rachou
Um relâmpago queimou a página escrita
Porque ele foi vil, mal, e não foi
Caiu
Mas tudo bem
Ele não tem medo.

(2008, 1° semestre)

your cock may appear smaller when viewed from above

which implies that probably he appears larger from below. never been in that position, if you have to ask. asking also won't solve the problem... see, the size of your cock might depend on a series of factors when seen by the eyes of a willingful female who desires his oh-almighty power inside her. if she wants you badly, she'll see him a little larger that he actually is, despite the relative position. she might see him as both a tool of pleasure and one of pain, and in that case she probably would see him larger than life itself, too much for her poor little pussy to handle. she'll also see some spikes and metal parts darting off his skin, when pain becomes more than pleasure. and i'd have to say that this is NOT good.

maybe she's drunk as a skunk on spring break, and then, at the slightest error of performance or pumping capacity, she'll see him as small as he was when he (and you) was just a hairless bean painted in red. and then she might laugh at him... or maybe she's just too hungry for him. she wants more and more and more, maybe two of then. HEY! hold on, he was made for being the solo artist in this show, and then he'll really appear smaller after this kind of proposal...

it's always the same cock. how do you see him, it doesn't matter at all.