tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24953975727464678312024-03-06T04:31:17.497+00:00off the recordrosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.comBlogger564125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-71034312437550723972015-06-28T23:20:00.001+01:002015-06-28T23:29:23.030+01:00Melanie Safka
beyoncé, miley cyrus, rihanna, lady gaga,
madonna, katy perry, nicki minaj,
taylor swift
...
rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-66342416057871392062015-03-16T21:47:00.004+00:002015-03-16T21:58:38.994+00:00Such A Shame
This eagerness to change
It's a shame
rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-6221509700646236062015-02-22T21:59:00.001+00:002015-02-22T22:00:01.063+00:00Cass McCombs - Dreams ComeTrue Girl (feat. Karen Black) rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-32710910432209395432014-05-05T22:33:00.001+01:002014-05-05T22:34:26.019+01:00Andrew Bird - "Imitosis"We're all basically alone. rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-79337671657128507902014-02-01T16:57:00.001+00:002014-02-01T16:57:47.913+00:00 Love It Or Leave It rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-80061917664479269252014-01-30T21:29:00.000+00:002014-01-30T21:31:37.832+00:00Dopamina ou Há violinos nos meus arrepios
Viciada em música, e já lá vamos, que sou, dou por mim a ter arrepios quando oiço algumas músicas, um arrepio no pescoço ou/e na coluna vertebral, só não se arrepiam os pelos dos braços porque não os tenho. Tento disfarçar o arrepio porque o interpreto como sinal de fragilidade. Quando sentia o “arrepio”, usava, consumia a música até à exaustão, agora, oiço-a com moderação, esporadicamente, não rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-37393436210293966032014-01-07T20:16:00.001+00:002014-01-07T20:16:39.157+00:00Não sei desenhar barcosrosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-66948284737186570422013-11-04T00:57:00.002+00:002013-11-04T00:58:48.854+00:00Hurt
I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything
What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-37692851093763661022013-09-23T20:30:00.000+01:002013-09-23T20:58:43.542+01:00Não posso adiar o coração
Não posso adiar o amor para outro século
não posso
ainda que o grito sufoque na garganta
ainda que o ódio estale e crepite e arda
sob montanhas cinzentas
e montanhas cinzentas
Não posso adiar este abraço
que é uma arma de dois gumes
amor e ódio
Não posso adiar
ainda que a noite pese séculos sobre as costas
e a aurora indecisa demore
não posso adiar para outro rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-68604140704422441772013-09-08T11:02:00.004+01:002013-09-08T11:02:58.492+01:00Drew
Falling little more
You bumped and crashed in dirty snow
Up to our sin, I might as well
Melt into Sunday
Remember the time
We stood there by the lake
Watching boats and planes
Pretty white clouds
The sun will sweat
In fact the song begins
Trees are your skin
On my tongue
rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-24833487252204541042013-08-27T21:23:00.001+01:002013-09-08T11:03:17.155+01:00Alt-J - Something Good (The Amazing Sessions)rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-76347038119038463342013-05-20T20:24:00.000+01:002013-05-21T20:36:52.576+01:00Riders On The Storm - Ray Manzarek (February 12, 1939 – May 20, 2013)
Riders on the storm
Into this house we're born
Into this world we're thrown
Like a dog without a bone
An actor out alone
Riders on the storm
There's a killer on the road
His brain is squirmin' like a toad
Take a long holiday
Let your children play
If ya give this man a ride
Sweet family will die
Killer on the road, yeah
Girl ya gotta love your man
Girl ya rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-61181764819714432002013-05-01T20:58:00.002+01:002013-05-01T20:58:52.820+01:00La Pastorcita Perdida
Punay! Punay! ¡Devuélveme, devuélveme, a mi pastorcita perdida!Pastorcita de mi vida, te extraviaste en noche mala, mi voz te busca en el viento y en la puna te reclama.Punay! Punay! ¡Devuélveme, devuélveme, a mi pastorcita perdida!Aunque tenga en esta vida, que viento y tierra tragar, pastorcita de la vida, te he de encontrarte he de encontrar.
rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-57666368370576052202013-04-17T22:16:00.003+01:002013-04-17T22:16:54.290+01:00Snake Eyes
Inflama-me, poente: faz-me perfume e chama;que o meu coração seja igual a ti, poente!descobre em mim o eterno, o que arde, o que ama,...e o vento do esquecimento arraste o que é doente!
Juan Ramón Jiménez
rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-12744066173171599252013-04-14T22:07:00.001+01:002013-04-14T22:41:58.813+01:00Dehorning
Não consegui ver o video até ao fim.
Dehorning:
Most cows used for dairy are not naturally hornless. See how farmers remove cows' horns and horn tissue using a variety of painful methods, including burning and cutting the horns out of their heads, often without painkillers.
http://youtu.be/8nGMgHyzHcA
Eu cresci nos Açores, numa aldeia em São Miguel e muitas vezes a minha mãe, rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-12725769176011343522013-03-31T21:37:00.003+01:002013-03-31T21:37:59.792+01:00Fever
Gárgula.Por dentro a chuva que a incha, por fora a pedra misteriosaque a mantém suspensa.E a boca demoníaca do prodígio despeja-seno caos.Esse animal erguido ao trono de uma estrela,que se debruça para ondeescureço. Pelos flancos construoa criatura. Onde corre o arrepio, das espáduaspara o fundo, com força atenta. Construoaquela massa de tetase unhas, pela espinha, rosas abertas das rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-75842972565753581942013-03-24T19:08:00.001+00:002013-03-24T19:08:32.999+00:00"Era um redondo vocábulo" ou 30 anos depois está tudo na mesma.rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-4856278528863838492013-03-20T21:08:00.000+00:002013-03-24T19:09:14.231+00:00It's Hard to be a Saint in the City
I had skin like leather and the diamond-hard look of a cobra
I was born blue and weathered but I burst just like a supernova
I could walk like Brando right into the sun
Then dance just like a Casanova
With my blackjack and jacket and hair slicked sweet
Silver star studs on my duds like a Harley in heat
When I strut down the street I could hear its heartbeat
The sisters fell backrosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-71344352821057360322013-03-19T16:40:00.000+00:002013-03-19T13:36:56.531+00:00It’s easier now
(...)
¿e se me tocam na boca?
de noite, a mexer na seda para, desdobrando-se,
a noite extraterrestre bruxulear um pouco,
o último,
assim como que húmido, animal, intuitivo, de origem,
papel de seda que a rútila força lírica rompa,
um arrepio dentro dele,
batido, pode ser, no sombrio, como se a vara enflorasse com as faúlhas,
(...)
rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-63297638281238161202013-02-26T20:24:00.001+00:002013-02-26T20:24:15.737+00:00Sacrilege
Coentros e garfos
Mamas e sapatos
rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-46665521307681808962013-02-23T21:47:00.000+00:002013-02-23T21:47:11.628+00:00The Master
Freddie Quell: Well, I'm sorry if I got out of hand last night. It was cold and...
Lancaster Dodd: Don't apologize. You're a scoundrel
Freddie Quell: [laughs]
Lancaster Dodd: And as a scientist and a connoisseur, I have no idea the contents of this remarkable potion. What's in it?
Freddie Quell: Secrets.
rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-21561669599378314502013-02-18T22:17:00.000+00:002013-02-18T22:17:58.715+00:00Mi Negrita
Mi intimidad es pequeña
cabe in mi boca
y se desliza por entre los dientes;
si la descubro fingiendo ser saliva
me la trago,
no quiero verla ajena en las palabras
ni perderla con un beso.
Ana Merino
rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-4383832814410252782013-02-12T16:22:00.000+00:002013-02-12T16:22:07.565+00:00Taro
Que música escutas tão atentamente
que não dás por mim?
Que bosque, ou rio, ou mar?
Ou é dentro de ti
que tudo canta ainda?
Queria falar contigo,
dizer-te apenas que estou aqui,
mas tenho medo,
medo que toda a música cesse
e tu não possas mais olhar as rosas.
Medo de quebrar o fio
com que teces os dias sem memória.
Com que palavras
ou beijos ou lágrimas
se acordam os mortos sem os rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-1629226170376670322013-02-02T19:07:00.000+00:002013-02-02T19:10:53.375+00:00Gun-Shy
Sinto-me assim, toda entranhada.
rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2495397572746467831.post-761107099269659762013-02-01T13:10:00.000+00:002013-02-01T20:56:26.007+00:00Wild Wood
Que acontece a uma música,
quando deixa de soar;
e a uma brisa que deixa
de voar,
e a uma luz que se apaga?
Morte, diz: que és tu, senão silêncio,
calma e sombra?
Juan Ramón Jiménez
rosahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07586924706671298021noreply@blogger.com6