bono

One

Is it getting better, or do you feel the same?
Will it make it easier on you, now you got someone to blame?
You say one love, one life, when it's one need in the night.
One love, we get to share it,
Leaves you, baby, if you don't care for it.

Did I disappoint you or leave a bad taste in your mouth?
You act like you never had love and you want me to go without.
Well, it's too late tonight to drag the past out into the light.
We're one, but we're not the same.
We get to carry each other, carry each other...
One...

Have you come here for forgiveness,
Have you come to raise the dead?
Have you come here to play Jesus to the lepers in your head?

Did I ask too much, more than a lot?
You gave me nothing, now it's all I've got.
We're one, but we're not the same.
Well, we hurt each other, then we do it again...

You say love is a temple, love a higher law.
Love is a temple, love the higher law.
You ask me to enter, but then you make me crawl,
And I can't be holding on to what you've got, when all you got is hurt.

One love, one blood, one life, you got to do what you should.
One life with each other: sisters, brothers.
One life, but we're not the same.
We get to carry each other, carry each other...
One, one...

-- U2

bono with his kid by anton corbijn

Backward Miracle

Every once in a while
we need a
backward miracle
that will strip language,
make it hold for
a minute: just the
vessel with the
wine in it —
a sacramental
refusal to multiply,
reclaiming the
single loaf
and the single
fish thereby.

-- Kay Ryan

bono

Michael Fassbender

She was not happy

“She was not happy - she never had been. Where did this insufficiency in life come from, this instantaneous turning to decay of everything on which she leaned? Nothing is worth the trouble of seeking; everything is a lie. Every smile hides
a yawn of boredom, every joy a curse, all pleasure satiety, and the sweetest kisses left upon your lips only the unattainable desire for a greater delight.”

― Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary

Michael Fassbender

Human speech

“Human speech is like a cracked kettle on which we tap crude rhythms for bears to dance to, while we long to make music that will melt the stars.”

“La parole humaine est comme un chaudron fêlé où nous battons des mélodies à faire danser les ours, quand on voudrait attendrir les étoiles.”

-- Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary

The Winter Palace

Most people know more as they get older:
I give all that the cold shoulder.

I spent my second quarter-century
Losing what I had learnt at university

And refusing to take in what had happened since.
Now I know none of the names in the public prints,

And am starting to give offence by forgetting faces
And swearing I’ve never been in certain places.

It will be worth it, if in the end I manage
To blank out whatever it is that is doing the damage.

Then there will be nothing I know.
My mind will fold into itself, like fields, like snow.

-- Philip Larkin

I Know, I Alone

I know, I alone
How much it hurts, this heart
With no faith nor law
Nor melody nor thought.

Only I, only I
And none of this can I say
Because feeling is like the sky -
Seen, nothing in it to see.

(10.08.1932)

-- Fernando Pessoa

My Favorite Mistake

I woke up and called this morning
The tone of your voice was a warning
That you don't care for me anymore...
I made up the bed we sleep in
I look at the clock when you creep in
It's 6 a.m. and I'm alone...

Did you know when you go it's the perfect ending
To the bad day I was just beginning?
When you go all I know is
You're my favorite mistake...

Now your friends are sorry for me
They watch you pretend to adore me
But I'm no fool to this game...
Now here comes your secret lover
She'll be unlike any other
Until your guilt goes up in flames...

And did you know when you go it's the perfect ending
To the bad day I've gotten used to spending?
When you go all I know is you're my favorite mistake...
You're my favorite mistake...

Well maybe nothing lasts forever
Even when you stay together...
I don't need forever after
But it's your laughter
That won't let me go
So I'm holding on this way...

Did you know, could you tell
You were the only one
That I ever loved?
Now everything's so wrong...

Did you see me walking by?
Did it ever make you cry?
You're my favorite mistake...
You're my favorite mistake...

-- Sheryl Crow

The Mower

The mower stalled, twice; kneeling, I found
A hedgehog jammed up against the blades,
Killed. It had been in the long grass.

I had seen it before, and even fed it, once.
Now I had mauled its unobtrusive world
Unmendably. Burial was no help:

Next morning I got up and it did not.
The first day after a death, the new absence
Is always the same; we should be careful

Of each other, we should be kind
While there is still time.

-- Philip Larkin

I moved along the window-wall

I moved along the window-wall. I liked my reflection in the nighttime glass, the
way my body was almost translucent, its outline and features only hinted at, and
the way the city lights and the black-green hole of the Park were contained within,
and spilling out of, me. The reflection of my white underwear neared opacity,
realness, and my gold chain glimmered.

I did not look at him. I looked at me in the window: half disappeared, slim, and
young. If you don’t pretend at vanity, the men feel dissatisfied. Look at my
smooth skin, look at my face! And then something else, conviction, took over;
I am a very good pretender. So, more than anything, I want to say this: in that
moment I was happy.

-- Justin Torres

Justin Torres

If It Makes You Happy

I've been long, a long way from here...
Put on a poncho, played for mosquitoes
And drank till I was thirsty again
We went searching through thrift store jungles
Found Geronimo's rifle, Marilyn's shampoo
And Benny Goodman's corset and fan

Well, okay, I made this up -
I promised you I'd never give up...

If it makes you happy
It can't be that bad
If it makes you happy
Then why the hell are you so sad?

You get down, real low down...
You listen to Coltrane, derail your own train,
Well who hasn't been there before?
I come round, around the hard way
Bring you comics in bed,
scrape the mold off the bread
And serve you French toast again

Well, okay, I still get stoned -
I'm not the kind of girl you'd take home...

If it makes you happy
It can't be that bad
If it makes you happy
Then why the hell are you so sad?

We've been far, far away from here...
Put on a poncho, played for mosquitoes
And everywhere in between
Well, okay, we get along...
So what if right now everything's wrong?

If it makes you happy
It can't be that bad
If it makes you happy
Then why the hell are you so sad?

-- Sheryl Crow

Michael Fassbender

Michael Fassbender

Sleepless City (Brooklyn Bridge Nocturne)

by Federico García Lorca
from Broken Land: Poems of Brooklyn

Out in the sky, no one sleeps. No one, no one.
No one sleeps.
Lunar creatures sniff and circle the dwellings.
Live iguanas will come to bite the men who don’t dream,
and the brokenhearted fugitive will meet on street corners
an incredible crocodile resting beneath the tender protest of the
stars.
Out in the world, no one sleeps. No one, no one.
No one sleeps.
There is a corpse in the farthest graveyard
complaining for three years
because of an arid landscape in his knee;
and a boy who was buried this morning cried so much
they had to call the dogs to quiet him.
Life is no dream. Watch out! Watch out! Watch out!
We fall down stairs and eat the moist earth,
or we climb to the snow’s edge with the choir of dead dahlias.
But there is no oblivion, no dream:
raw flesh. Kisses tie mouths
in a tangle of new veins
and those who are hurt will hurt without rest
and those who are frightened by death will carry it on their
shoulders.
One day
horses will live in the taverns
and furious ants
will attack the yellow skies that take refuge in the eyes of cattle.

Another day
we’ll witness the resurrection of dead butterflies,
and still walking in a landscape of gray sponges and silent ships,
we’ll see our ring shine and rose spill from our tongues.
Watch out! Watch out! Watch out!
Those still marked by claws and cloudburst,
that boy who cries because he doesn’t know about the invention
of bridges,
or that corpse that has nothing more than its head and one
shoe —
they all must be led to the wall where iguanas and serpents wait,
where the bear’s teeth wait,
where the mummified hand of a child waits
and the camel’s fur bristles with a violent blue chill.
Out in the sky, no one sleeps. No one, no one.
No one sleeps.
But if someone closes his eyes,
whip him, my children, whip him!
Let there be a panorama of open eyes
and bitter inflamed wounds.
Out in the world, no one sleeps. No one. No one.
I’ve said it before.
No one sleeps.
But at night, if someone has too much moss on his temples,
open the trap doors so he can see in moonlight
the fake goblets, the venom, and the skull of the theaters.

At the extreme limits of reality
there is nothing but this:
Love is paid back with love

All'estremo limite del vero
All'estremo limite del vero c'è
Che l'amore con l'amore si paga

-- Ivano Fossati

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O rose, you are sick!
The invisible worm
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,
Has found out your bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does your life destroy.

-- William Blake

Seth Turnbull

click to enlarge

I felt like a worm

I found a new boyfriend.
We were watching birds
pluck worms out of a rainy field.
I asked him why the birds were able
to find worms as soon as they landed.
He said worms float on water.
Then he kissed me.

-- Carabella Sands

Chris Hemsworth

ruggedly handsome

Michael Fassbender

Building A Mystery

You come out at night
That's when the energy comes,
And the dark side's light,
And the vampires roam

You strut your rasta wear
And your suicide poem,
And a cross from a faith
That died before Jesus came
You're building a mystery...

You live in a church
Where you sleep with voodoo dolls,
And you won't give up the search
For the ghosts in the halls

You wear sandals in the snow
And a smile that won't wash away
Can you look out the window
Without your shadow getting in the way?

Oh you're so beautiful,
With an edge and a charm,
But so careful
When I'm in your arms...

Cause you're working,
Building a mystery,
Holding on and holding it in
Yeah you're working,
Building a mystery,
Choosing so carefully...

You woke up screaming aloud
A prayer from your secret god
You feed off our fears
And hold back your tears

You give us a tantrum
And a know-it-all grin,
Just when we need one,
When the evening's thin

Oh you're a beautiful,
A beautiful fucked-up man
You're setting up your
Razor-wire shrine...

Cause you're working,
Building a mystery,
Holding on, holding it in
Yeah you're working,
Building a mystery,
Choosing so carefully...

You're building a mystery...

-- S. McLachlan

green eyes

jeremy meeks

"Caramel"

It won't do
to dream of caramel,
to think of cinnamon
and long for you.

It won't do
to stir a deep desire,
to fan a hidden fire
that can never burn true.

I know your name,
I know your skin,
I know the way
these things begin;
but I don't know
what I would give of myself,
how I would live with myself
if you don't go.

So goodbye,
sweet appetite,
no single bite
could satisfy...

I know your name,
I know your skin,
I know the way
these things begin;
but I don't know
how I would live with myself,
'cause I would give up myself
if you don't go.

It won't do
to dream of caramel,
to think of cinnamon
and long
for you...

-- Suzanne Vega

Golden brown

Golden brown, texture like sun
Lays me down, with my mind she runs
Throughout the night
No need to fight
Never a frown with golden brown...

Every time just like the last
On her ship tied to the mast
To distant lands
She takes both my hands
Never a frown with golden brown...

Golden brown, the finest temptress
Through the ages she's heading west
From far away
Stays for a day
Never a frown with golden brown...

(La la la la la la la la leeeah)

Never, never a frown
With golden brown...
Never, never, never a frown...


-- Hugh Cornwell (The Stranglers)

Golden brown

Love After Love

The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other's welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

-- by Derek Walcott

Robert Graves

Take your delight in momentariness,
Walk between dark and dark – a shining space
With the grave's narrowness though not its peace.

Bobby Parker

He stares at her chest, the line of cleavage that may as well be a crack in his bedroom wall, thinking maybe the sun will explode if he reaches out and touches it, that she might hold his haunted hand tight against her heart until it gets dark, and tell him their marriage was a message that failed to send, and tell him their daughter is a dream.

Justin Torres

Justin Torres

I spotted a golden feather on the edge

I spotted a golden feather on the edge of the concrete platform, waiting for me,
while I was waiting for the train. I thought of a joke, about rats devouring an
entire golden pigeon — but there was no one around to share the joke with.

A bum slept expertly on a too small bench, a woman pulled herself inward and
stood far away, watching her toes, and a very young man gave me a very rough look.
I picked up the feather, which was on a thin gold chain, but I stayed squatted,
close to the edge, leaning my head into the danger zone.

I could see all the way to the next station, where the train idled, its headlights
like tiger eyes in the tunnel-jungle. I waited there, poised, fascinated, as the train
approached and the eyes widened. When I finally stood, the woman and the young
man were staring baldly. We were all connected, all relieved that I had not jumped.

I dangled my feather for them on its chain, as if to explain myself — all of this in
just a blink of a moment — then the train roared its arrival, doors opened, and we
stepped into separate cars. It was late, past midnight.

-- Justin Torres

Jared Leto

And soon it is night

Everyone stands alone on the heart of the earth
pierced by a ray of sunlight:
and soon it is night.

----------------------

Ed è subito sera

Ognuno sta solo sul cuor della terra
trafitto da un raggio di sole:
ed è subito sera.

-- Salvatore Quasimodo

Is this desire?

Joseph walked on and on
The sunset went down and down
Coldness cooled their desire
And Dawn said, 'Let's build a fire'

The sun dressed the trees in green
And Joe said, 'I feel like a king'
And Dawn's neck and her feet were bare
Sweetness in her golden hair

Said, 'I'm not scared'
Turned to her and smiled
Secrets in his eyes
Sweetness of desire

Is this desire
Enough enough
To lift us higher
To lift above?

Hour-long, by hour, may we two stand
When we're dead, between these lands
The sun set behind his eyes
And Joe said, 'Is this desire?'

Is this desire
Enough enough
To lift us higher
To lift above?

Is this desire
Enough enough
Enough inside
Is this desire?


-- PJ Harvey

Chris Hemsworth

click to enlarge

os rostos masculinos mais bonitos do mundo

Chris Hemsworth

Tyson Ballou

Paul Newman

dorky cutie

Ewan McGregor in Beginners (2010)

Ewan McGregor in Beginners (2010)

Ewan McGregor in Beginners (2010)

Ewan McGregor in Beginners (2010)

Ewan McGregor in Beginners (2010)

Michael Fassbender

Michael Fassbender

Chris Hemsworth