connected to the unconnectable;
plugged to the aerial;
changed by the bodyless;
mutated by the temperature;
artist by the wind;
singer by the soul;
composer by the precious rock;
human by the soothing breath...Life is a river you won't cross, you will be.
Published: Tue, 14 Mar 2017 23:30:06 +0000
The Sea Shells
Fri, 21 Oct 2011 11:51:56 +0000
THis song I;ve made when I was 16 years old with a friend of mine called Luiz, better known as Luisisnho. He already left this level but he is still around, with me playing songs for the wind. All of sudden this song came in my mind wen I've first plugged my gruitar
SO here I share with you...
Wed, 29 Jun 2011 04:11:17 +0000
the change depends only in you CHORUS
You don't need parades VERSO
you don't need shallow movements
all you need is you (2x)
you don't need it lighter
you might need fire
you will need water
but you won't need, what??
you don't need liars
you might need lions
you might seek fountains of love
you don't bleed magma
you might sweat clouds
you are part of the parts you don't know at all
Mon, 27 Jun 2011 21:18:27 +0000
You scratch my body
you mark my soul
you want me to behave
but you don't me to go….
That s what you call society
where noone is brighting
blind eyes and fallen minds
Why you do that for?
You may count until billions
But no one of them are mirrors
You get easily lost
Are you a weak bro???
2012 is arising
and there's always time
to make good things
Mon, 20 Jun 2011 01:06:32 +0000
Maybe earth will show you the way
And those clouds would bring it ok
The it will rain over the top the truth
Maybe a cosmic love is that cool
Maybe it's just all the YOU
Maybe all the pyramids are all our friends
transcendental layers of innocence
aligned with numbers and figures
the river is there to flow not to grow
Maybe it's just all the YOU
you said you ran with UFOs
you have touched their limbs and their thought
you are now shining unconditional love
winds of fragrance mind is brought
Maybe it's just all the YOU
Good Afternoon, Earth.
Sun, 12 Jun 2011 11:23:11 +0000
Where our achievements chill out
storms of unexpected waves
Our inner skin of feelings
which all the flaming eyes
are evolved to their level
Blooming stories of colorful beings
Are being set underneath the inner layer of perception
winding up ethereal left/right wings
Pluralizing into light inert thoughts of disruption
Forget it , there's always solutions
Where pretty much all levels reach out
subtle spells are being felt by the limbs
Trading up with the unseen, the secret's fault
Cores of original poems are thrown to the sins
There's always solution for the wind, it crosses itself, whirling up doubts for those
who asks what is happening there????
Just flow your blood into glowing substance thought through our mankind-cosmic-perception
Collections of the Bear poem
Fri, 10 Jun 2011 21:16:24 +0000
The lunar touch had appeared throughout our sparkling pores and brought the cadence of how to live on a sphere where we don't seek anything...we just stop and say to ourselves...What the heel have I been Looking for out of my temple-body-lightness? ? .....
The harmonic tone is sweatin the white dog of ourselves..the being which reign the power of love.completedness, uniqueness..It's time to endure the soothness of our flexible and cosmic atomic heart, Sing the note within, sing the last wall away from you..
Power of love, POwer of distance..Do melt the bulky sphere in-between us..let us play in the field where the invisible are feasible to feel, to touch, to maintain prophetical coming touchs..how sweet is to be at your side, sweet distance...said the wind..
The calling is arising....feel your last sweat, your last dropp of water within....try to rearrange your deepest touchs...your dee pest incandescent bright...your countless breathes, your flawless divine glance.... the trice of our last inspire is our..
In the very spiral medulla, live our multi-faceted beams of creations, maybe coldness and lightness all together, a mommentary stretching, a last deep aim and breathe, ...there goes the last poet and its last ink...running to cover the last part of earth..
The land of breathing is just taking its own position, the posture of 45º directly in the interior sunshine....before the last abysm, everybody think he will disappear...Where? In the fog of visions which he trabscribes to us? Or will he hang on that....
Let The Blue Hand accomplishes thy sphere of healing the outer world of brightness....let the blue hand catalyzes the inner force which has been waiting to come out and soothe thy solid faces....let the hand make the sculptur of the future, the new form.
you with ith kindness on touching the solar flare inside...you with your incandescent scent of love...you can spread out with your magnetic beauty the power of all the lovers when these get together over the calm brook of nowhere....your with your grace.
Metaphysical Love poem
Mon, 23 May 2011 17:13:42 +0000
The farther we reach the longer we stretch, said the wind
We are moving towards our inner spin, where all energetic beams are dissolved
By the dense frequency we expire from the fog of the flint
We are more like clouds than their wound evolved
Rolling over sharp fences, our disarrayed mind clings
the nearest become the farthest, the rain become stoned
Then all feelings are set apart, they start to limp
The arrows of loneliness form our love, loved.
Sat, 20 Jan 2007 17:55:40 +0000
Becoming the air around we change the wheather
touching someone's eye we make the spin of their thought
dancing in the silence we can move those winds
emerging from the own field we can embrace the last soldier, the last attempt.........
the soul is unique at its own sensation why are you stooped by?
what are you waiting for? what is the next step towards the real accomplishment?
Fri, 25 May 2007 23:26:22 +0000
Here where humming birds sing the truth receiving the sweat
of the smelling leaves we have at our inner space-travelling...
here where the wings should be used to fly, even for those
who can't feel the within air that impulses ourselves farther on
Here, where the sun appears to touch its highest level Shouted
the last cloud.I've been touched by these suspended airs for a long
long time...said the last astronaut..And in the middle of nowhere
someone screeched..."Lost to get even more lost"..
Here in the membrane of nowhere...here where all the glimpses
become eternal...here where all the holes become the gates..
.here where all the molecules become the ancient part...
here where all the comets teach how to orbit..
.here where all the spheres become the original touch...
.here where all the solar sun become the internal rain
…here where all the poems become the floating words of the nearest
future of comprehension…here where all the breaths become
the expiring act of freedom….here where all the cloud become
the doors of aiming the unexpected…..here where all the sweats
become the non-saying words of new oblivion-language…
..here where all the dots………………………….change the lines………
Here in the place of no one, where only the subtle ears,
can feel the air-interference-being-cosmical-messenger..
.here where all the light waves splash their message from
the divine ocean of purification.......here where all the lines
become the unseen....here where all the bridges become the
sound-harmonical-sweat....here we breath the untouchable
Thu, 26 Jul 2007 19:39:15 +0000
8 poemas da existencia .......
1º...sol de outra galaxia; ilumine por mim o limpido caminho de vossa distancia.....
2º...tempestade de vossos meteoros; desvie por mim a eterna danca.....
3º...ventos cosmicos desse contato estelar; sopre-me para com vosso alcance....
4º...lago de vossos reflexos das dimensoes; abre por mim vossa unica passagem....
5º...montanha de vossa quietude; grite por mim, desde agora, vossa energia criadora....
6º....arvore da vida das forcas; impulse a mim vossa grande diversidade de frutos......
7º....rocha do eco eterno; lembre por mim vossa imensa dimensao sonora do infinito....
8º...alem dos cenario naturais; naturalize por mim a todos os que digerem pureza nessa vida espiralada do agora........cheguei.....pousei em nosso vazio de flutuar no amor....
Red Earth with flute
Wed, 07 Feb 2007 18:47:57 +0000
Over the vast and bored stellar sun stays the hidden rain of the external touches of expanding oneself…
Yes…there is the hidden temperature of the mirrors within and its derivations…
How is sweet the “multiply-oneself” in the enchanted realm of lost oneself to oneself mind ….How is sweet the enchant of a cloud that transits those adjacent external skips, of new born star, of the relief breath…
There is the chant of the mountain birds within and its wavy concaves of melted harmonic magma…
How is sweet the hearing of the external volcano of those that sing since their concavities of high physical-mutant level…..How is sweet hearing the walking of the farthest storms of the sun within…The is the catastrophe , the radio, the receptacle of the fluorescent owl’s eyes friend ………
Sweet sun, sweet rain of the falls and the somersaults….how is magic the “entrails oneself” in the caves of incandescent gold within….how is incandescent the meeting of the non-found beings of the galaxy…..
How is soothing the non-saying of the non-said words of the unexpected emerge oneself….
How is soothing the “inspire oneself” at the most relief expiring of exist…
Sat, 06 Jan 2007 02:17:57 +0000
Life is a continuous give and take. It is a pulsation, just like breathing -- you breathe in, you breathe out.
If you are happy, happiness goes out, happiness comes in. If you are celebrating, your breathing becomes a celebration. You touch somebody's hand and you have transformed that man's being -- at least for a moment; you have given him a glimpse, a taste. And of course you are related to many people, in many ways.... They all will start feeling.
Many many people who are selfish are needed in the world -- they will become a small broadcasting station of happiness. And then whatsoever you feel like doing, you do. If you want to serve a beggar, serve. But first things first. Otherwise you cannot serve anybody because you have not served even yourself.
And god is not going to ask you, 'Why was somebody else a beggar, and somebody poor, and somebody dying?' -- no. He will ask you, 'What have you done with yourself? I had given you an opportunity -- has your seed sprouted? Have you flowered? Has your life been a fulfillment? Have you lived?'
If you don't live rightly, your whole energy becomes evil, des-tructive. Have you noticed the interesting fact that if you read the word 'live' backwards, it becomes 'evil' ?
Just spell your life a little wrongly, and everything goes rotten -- it becomes evil.
So live truly, authentically, sincerely -- that is the most funda-mental thing.
I show you life! I don't show you service. Service comes as a shadow. A really alive person is continuously sharing his energy -- whatsoever he has -- because he knows that the more you share, the more you have.
So, that you have to decide, otherwise meditation will not be possible, because meditators are bound to be selfish people.
A meditator is simply forgetting the whole world. There are so many problems in the world -- and he is sitting with closed eyes under his bodhi tree, meditating, watching his navel! He is really not a good person at all! There are people dying -- you should go and help them to live. There are hungry people. There are orphans, there are wars going on -- you should do something! And you are sitting under the tree and gazing at your navel.... Have you gone mad?
But a buddha, a christ, a krishna -- they all flowered in deep silence. Of course once you have flowered, your fragrance can go to the winds, but never before! You don't have anything!
So my suggestion is: first be selfish, then altruism will come on its own accord. Then it has a beauty... a totally different quality. Then you are not a do-gooder. You don't impose anything on anybody. You are a sharer, and to whomsoever accepts some-thing from you, you feel grateful, because he has accepted something from you. Then there is no ego trip.
Just be here, meditate a little, do a few groups.
Touching is very very meaningful. In fact, if the mother has not touched the child very deeply, the child will always remain divided between feeling and thought. Much hugging is needed -- and that has disappeared. Breast-feeding is needed, otherwise the child never starts feeling. Now in the west, mothers don't like to breast-feed because their breasts will lose shape. They don't want to hug too much... touch is almost a taboo.
I was just reading about one japanese sculptor whose works were being shown in New York. The curators of the american museum were very much confounded, because he insisted on one thing which was never heard of before.[...]
full moon of sun
Tue, 02 Oct 2007 03:11:53 +0000
I was a candle that shone the spheres
Brilliant times of our last poems
Incredibly floating towards those clouds
Remaining fresh and wide and vast
And yearning with strokes of the next wind
Being the gate of somewhere in
Even with those wild birds shall fall
Our unseen core is there about
And we’re rolling under the sun
And we’re sweating under the moon
I was an unexpect being full of roses
Once alive I was at all…at once……
Immensely touched by these stones
Full of codes from where we was born
You should talk limitlessly by..
The coming light we shall bright….
Fri, 09 Feb 2007 01:17:37 +0000
Have they employed the whole and free time in their lifes? Have they crossed the being of another field? Have they inspired the whole and unique divine gas in the universe of atmospheres? Have they sung all those unlimited and helpful songs, which when the birds remind them in the break of the day? Have they formed their wayness throught their countless doubts? Have they flown over their graceful joy?
Wed, 07 Feb 2007 13:16:58 +0000
Let The Blue Hand accomplishes thy sphere of healing the outer world of brightness....let the blue hand catalyzes the inner force which has been waiting to come out and soothe thy solid faces ....let the hand make the sculptur of the future, the new form.
you with with your kindness on touching the solar flare inside...you with your incandescent scent of love...you can spread out with your magnetic beauty the power of all the lovers when these get together over the calm brook of nowhere....your with your grace .
Miz Tli Tlan
Sat, 06 Jan 2007 02:24:31 +0000
Come and sweat sweet being...do play all over my veins, be its river;Enchant the blue trees of our divine will;splash the last thoughts away from now;be the rocky shore of our new cosmic touch-feeling;illuminate our non-stop will to be free, wash us...