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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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