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      One More Red Nightmare
      Veterano
      # 13/set/17 11:49


      eis um habito que nunca abandono, gosto muito de ler e ouvir recitar uma poesia.





      One More Red Nightmare
      Veterano
      # 13/set/17 11:51
      · votar


      If you can keep your head when all about you
      Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
      If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
      But make allowance for their doubting too;
      If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
      Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
      Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
      And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

      If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
      If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
      If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
      And treat those two impostors just the same;
      If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
      Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
      Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
      And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

      If you can make one heap of all your winnings
      And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
      And lose, and start again at your beginnings
      And never breathe a word about your loss;
      If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
      To serve your turn long after they are gone,
      And so hold on when there is nothing in you
      Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

      If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
      Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
      If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
      If all men count with you, but none too much;
      If you can fill the unforgiving minute
      With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
      Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
      And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

      If - Rudyard Kipling

      Simonhead
      Veterano
      # 14/set/17 09:29
      · votar


      One More Red Nightmare
      If

      Maneiro, hein? Belo post! \o

      Insufferable Bear
      Membro
      # 14/set/17 10:20
      · votar


      poema
      sai daqui, gay

      Insufferable Bear
      Membro
      # 14/set/17 10:23
      · votar


      When everyone you have ever loved is finally gone
      When everything you have ever wanted is finally done with
      When all of your nightmares are for a time obscured
      As by a shining brainless beacon
      Or a blinding eclipse of the many terrible shapes of this world
      When you are calm and joyful
      And finally entirely alone
      Then in a great new darkness
      You will finally execute your special plan

      One needs to have a plan someone said who was turned away into the shadows
      And who I had believed was sleeping or dead
      Imagine he said all the flesh that is eaten
      The teeth tearing into it
      The tongue tasting it's savour
      And the hunger for that taste
      Now take away that flesh he said
      Take away the teeth and the tongue
      The taste and the hunger
      Take away everything as it is
      That was my plan
      My own special plan for this world
      I listened to these words and yet I did not wonder
      If this creature whom I had thought sleeping or dead would ever approach his vision
      Even in his deepest dreams
      Or his most lasting death
      Because I had heard of such plans such visions
      And I knew they did not see far enough
      But what was demanded in a way of a plan
      Needed to go beyond tongue and teeth and hunger and flesh
      Beyond the bones and the very dust of bones and the wind that would come to blow the dust away
      And so I began to envision a darkness that was long before the dark of night
      And a strangely shining light
      That owed nothing to the light of day

      That day may seem like other days
      Once more we feel the tiny legged trepidations
      Once more we are mangled by a great grinding fear
      But that day will have no others after
      No more worlds like this will follow
      Because I have a plan
      A very special plan
      No more worlds like this
      No more days like that

      There are but four ways to die a sardonic spirit might have said to me
      There is dying that occurs relatively suddenly
      There is dying that occurs relatively gradually
      There is dying that occurs relatively painlessly
      There is the death that is full of pain
      Thus by various means they are combined
      The sudden and the gradual
      The painless and the painful
      To yield but four ways to die
      And there are no others
      Even after the voice stopped speaking
      I listened for it to speak again
      After hours and day and years have passed
      I listened for some further words
      Yet all I heard were the faintest echoes reminding me
      There are no others
      There are no others
      Was it then that I began to conceive for this world
      A special plan?

      There are no means for escaping this world
      It penetrates even into your sleep
      And is its substance
      You are caught in your own dreaming
      Where there is no space
      And are held forever where there is no time
      You can do nothing you aren't told to do
      There is no hope for escape from this dream
      That was never yours
      The very words you speak are only its very words
      And you talk like a traitor
      Under its incessant torture

      There are many who have designs upon this world
      And dream of wild and vast reformations
      I have heard them talking in their sleep
      Of elegant mutations
      And cunning annihilations
      I have heard them whispering in the corners of crooked houses
      And in the alleys and narrow back streets of this crooked creaking universe
      Which they with their new designs were made straight and sound
      But each of these new and I'll conceived designs
      Is deranged in it's heart
      For they see this world as if it were alone and original
      And not as only one of count with others
      Whose nightmares all precede
      Like a hideous garden grown from a single seed
      I have heard these dreamers talking in their sleep
      And I stand waiting for them
      As at the top of a darkened flight of stairs
      They know nothing of me
      And none of the secrets of my special plan
      While I know every crooked creaking step of theirs

      It was the voice of someone who was waiting in the shadows
      Who was looking at the moon and waiting for me to turn the corner
      And enter a narrow street
      And stand with him in the dull glaze of moonlight
      Then he said to me
      He whispered
      That my plan was misconceived
      That my special plan for this world was a terrible mistake
      Because, he said, there is nothing to do and there is no where to go
      There is nothing to be and there is no one to know
      Your plan is a mistake, he repeated
      This world is a mistake, I replied

      The children always followed him
      When they saw him hopping by
      A funny walk
      A funny man
      A funny, funny, funny man
      He made them laugh sometimes
      He made them laugh oh yes he did
      He did he did he did he did
      Oh how he made them roll
      One day he took them to a place
      He knew a special place
      And told them things about this world
      This funny, funny, funny world
      Which made them laugh sometimes
      He made them laugh oh yes he did
      He did he did he did he did
      Oh how he made them roll
      Then the funny man who made them laugh
      Sometimes he did
      Revealed to them his special plan
      His very special funny plan
      Knowing they would understand
      And maybe laugh sometimes
      He made them laugh
      Oh yes he did
      He did he did he did he did
      Their eyes grew wide beneath there lids
      And how he made them roll

      I first learned the facts from a lunatic
      In a dark and quiet room that smelled of stale time and space
      There are no people
      Nothing at all like that
      The human phenomenon is but the sum of densely coiled layers of illusion
      Each of which winds itself upon the supreme insanity
      That there are persons of any kind
      When all that can be is mindless mirrors
      Laughing and screaming as they parade about
      In an endless dream
      But when I asked the lunatic what it was that saw itself within these mirrors
      As they marched endlessly in stale time and space
      He only rocked and smiled
      Then he laughed and screamed
      And in his black and empty eyes
      I saw for a moment, as in a mirror
      A formless shade of divinity
      In flight from its stale infinity
      Of time and space and the worst of all
      Of this world's dreams
      My special plan for the laughter
      And the screams

      We went to see some little show
      That was staged in an old shed
      Past the edge of town
      And in its beginnings all seemed well
      The miniature curtain stage glowed in the darkness
      While those dolls bounced along on their strings before our eyes
      And in its beginnings all seemed well
      But then there came a subtle turning point which some have noticed
      And I was one
      Who quietly left the show
      No I did not
      Because I could see where things were going
      As the antics of those dolls grew strange
      And the fragile strings grew taut
      With their tiny pullings, tiny limbs
      The others around me became appalled
      And turned away and abandoned the show
      That was staged in an old shed
      Past the edge of town
      But I wanted to witness what could never be
      I wanted to see what could not be seen
      But the moment of consummate disaster
      My puppets turned to face the puppet master

      It was twilight and I stood in a greyish haze of the vast empty building
      When the silence was enriched by a reverberant voice
      All the things of this world it said
      Are of but one essence
      For which there are no words
      This is the greater part which has no beginning or end
      And the one essence of this world for which there can be no words
      Is that all the things of this world
      This is the lesser part which had a beginning and shall have an end
      And for which words were conceived solely to speak of
      The tiny broken beings of this world it said
      The beginnings and endings of this world it said
      For which words were conceived solely to speak of
      Now remove these words and what remains it asks me
      As I stood in the twilight of that vast empty building
      But I did not answer
      The question echoed over and over
      But I remained silent until the echoes died
      And as twilight passed into the evening I felt my
      Special plan for which there are no words
      Moving towards a greater darkness

      There are some who have no voices
      Or none that will ever speak
      Because of the things they know about this world
      And the things they feel about this world
      Because the thoughts that fill a brain
      That is a damaged brain
      Because the pain that fills a body
      That is a damaged body
      Exists in other worlds
      Countless other worlds
      Each of which stands alone in an infinite empty blackness
      For which no words are being conceived
      And where no voices are able to speak
      When a brain is filled only with damaged thoughts
      When a damaged body is filled only with pain
      And stands alone in a world surrounded by infinite empty blackness
      And exists in a world for which there is no special plan

      When everyone you have ever loved is finally gone
      When everything you have ever wanted is finally done with
      When all of your nightmares are for a time obscured
      As by a shining brainless beacon
      Or a blinding eclipse of the many terrible shapes of this world
      When you are calm and joyful
      And finally entirely alone
      Then in a great new darkness
      You will finally execute your special plan



      Simonhead
      Veterano
      # 14/set/17 14:06
      · votar


      When everyone you have ever loved is finally gone
      When everything you have ever wanted is finally done with
      When all of your nightmares are for a time obscured
      As by a shining brainless beacon
      Or a blinding eclipse of the many terrible shapes of this world
      When you are calm and joyful
      And finally entirely alone
      Then in a great new darkness
      You will finally execute your special plan


      Nice!!!!

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