voar as vezes não eh o bastante
queria mesmo eh me transmutar.
espirito eh o que queria ser
doce sina divina
e assim iria , lá
outras dimensões, universos;
dor teria outra concepção
ou seria desconhecida !
vontade de voar voltou
mas dessa vez queria voar
sempre, todos os dias
e o chão, eu não mais tocaria
vai , vai , vai , e une-se
às que ficaram; umas mais, outras menos
e assim me desfaço, em silêncio,
numa sinfonia repetida.
Wednesday, 24 August 2011
O cavalinho como essência...
Alguns imitam cavalos. Não os selvagens como Pégasus, desbravador de montes. Falo dos que enxergam pouquinho,unidirecionais que tem medo de saírem do pastinho, aventurar-se além da cerca. Pessoas assim,em sua maioria, tendem ao trivial,como cavalinhos "bipolares" que vez ou outra, ficam ariscos nos cantinhos, buscando e recriando pseudo-segurança.Tão certa a felicidade de uns passinhos diferentes... Fico triste por essas pessoas.Contentam-se com o conforto da mesmice. Nao saberão o que de fato é o ousar.Voar.Se permitir.
Sunday, 21 August 2011
as escadas
vejo as escadas, os degrais estão alinhados
diferentes ângulos, a medida da impossibilidade
retenção do mar
as ondas vêm , não há timidez
- - - -
escadas, fios únicos , emaranhado da vida
a sina, me faz assim, as escadas são essas
vejos as cores, o azul
as águas são agora turvas
- - - -
e vem , vem aquela necessidade
a expressão , arco-íris, mas não há ouro no final
vejo assim, me enlevo sem colocar os pés no chão
as águas, se movimentam, não são mais ondas
- - - -
ja me esqueço, o arco-iris-escada me toma
reflito, não há mais janela pra se ollhar
sentimentos de werther, ah pobre Werther
mas sem o seu fim, e as ondas se tornam maiores que sonhos
.
diferentes ângulos, a medida da impossibilidade
retenção do mar
as ondas vêm , não há timidez
- - - -
escadas, fios únicos , emaranhado da vida
a sina, me faz assim, as escadas são essas
vejos as cores, o azul
as águas são agora turvas
- - - -
e vem , vem aquela necessidade
a expressão , arco-íris, mas não há ouro no final
vejo assim, me enlevo sem colocar os pés no chão
as águas, se movimentam, não são mais ondas
- - - -
ja me esqueço, o arco-iris-escada me toma
reflito, não há mais janela pra se ollhar
sentimentos de werther, ah pobre Werther
mas sem o seu fim, e as ondas se tornam maiores que sonhos
.
Olha (...) Olha Solzinho
Olha, Olha solzinho (pra dentro)
lá tem luz, tem reminiscências do infinito, indefinido
por definição é assim mesmo, inquietude
tranfusão de sonhos
---
Deixa, não deixe que essa boba sublimação
erros tais quais os de negar
tornem-se a negação do que é tão luz
foste dos prazeres, o meu maior deleite
---
Olha (...), mas olha pra dentro
lá tem luz, tem as respostas do que se tornou
calo, refrigerio, (...) e vem a epifania
sorrateira, me entrego, me afasto, me perco
---
Vem luzinha tão linda, lapidada de adornos
das palavras, e que sejam elas mais lindas
em todas as suas nuances, se criem !
onde esta você, sonho-sol ? antítese da razão.
.
lá tem luz, tem reminiscências do infinito, indefinido
por definição é assim mesmo, inquietude
tranfusão de sonhos
---
Deixa, não deixe que essa boba sublimação
erros tais quais os de negar
tornem-se a negação do que é tão luz
foste dos prazeres, o meu maior deleite
---
Olha (...), mas olha pra dentro
lá tem luz, tem as respostas do que se tornou
calo, refrigerio, (...) e vem a epifania
sorrateira, me entrego, me afasto, me perco
---
Vem luzinha tão linda, lapidada de adornos
das palavras, e que sejam elas mais lindas
em todas as suas nuances, se criem !
onde esta você, sonho-sol ? antítese da razão.
.
Tuesday, 9 March 2010
About being happy
Well, how can I start...?
Although it's a subject that apparently faded away from my mind for a good while, after noticing some facts,that somehow kept hiding from my sight, I couldn't even wait to write about "on being happy".
Naturally I chose the philosophical approach, not because I want myself flattered, but in terms of "definition" such approach seems to "fit the bill" quite well.
For centuries the pursuit of happiness has been paralleled by the pursuit of the definition of happiness. From Aristotle to Rousseau, John Stuart Mill and right up to Gretchen Rubin, brains have been switched on to track and trap it. They ask: what is happiness exactly? A vague set of positive feelings? A scientifically observable balance of chemicals in the brain ? A form of liberty? Or just the absence of unhappiness?
This casting about for an answer leads to the obvious point that it's hard to pursue happiness if you don't know what you're looking for.
If these great brains can't agree on what happiness is, what chance do the rest of us have in securing it? But the point is too obvious. In fact. For the problem is not with happiness per se, but with the idea of pursuing it. For where `pursuit` is involved, potential failure looms. As long as we `pursue` happiness, it can always elude us.
So how on earth, if not by chasing it, do we get happy?
There's a clue in the word `happy` itself, which relates to the word `happen`, and is about letting things come into being rather than prescribing them in advance.
Happiness should be the accidental by-product of doing what we love, not a target. In this sense, happiness can only be known in retrospect. As in the cliché of schooldays being the happiest of your life, you know when you've been happy, and it was when you weren't particularly trying.
This means happiness comes from trying not to try. Really, it would be better if none of those thinkers had ever turned happiness into a concept, because in doing so, they fashioned an idol, and where idols are present, sacrifice follows.
More suffer in the name of happiness than derive satisfaction from it.
Today, people are acutely aware of being unhappy, and that only compounds the unhappiness.
The worst thing we can do is to keep talking about being happy; it only makes us miserable.
Far better to focus on what we believe in, devote ourselves to a meaningful task and be pleasantly surprised when a friend asks if we're happy and simply answer `yes`.
This writer, Robert Rowland Smith compounds this dialogue with on what we can expect about being truly happy. The book "Breakfast with Socrates: Philosophy of Everyday Life” definitely deserves all credit for shed some light in this matter.
Although it's a subject that apparently faded away from my mind for a good while, after noticing some facts,that somehow kept hiding from my sight, I couldn't even wait to write about "on being happy".
Naturally I chose the philosophical approach, not because I want myself flattered, but in terms of "definition" such approach seems to "fit the bill" quite well.
For centuries the pursuit of happiness has been paralleled by the pursuit of the definition of happiness. From Aristotle to Rousseau, John Stuart Mill and right up to Gretchen Rubin, brains have been switched on to track and trap it. They ask: what is happiness exactly? A vague set of positive feelings? A scientifically observable balance of chemicals in the brain ? A form of liberty? Or just the absence of unhappiness?
This casting about for an answer leads to the obvious point that it's hard to pursue happiness if you don't know what you're looking for.
If these great brains can't agree on what happiness is, what chance do the rest of us have in securing it? But the point is too obvious. In fact. For the problem is not with happiness per se, but with the idea of pursuing it. For where `pursuit` is involved, potential failure looms. As long as we `pursue` happiness, it can always elude us.
So how on earth, if not by chasing it, do we get happy?
There's a clue in the word `happy` itself, which relates to the word `happen`, and is about letting things come into being rather than prescribing them in advance.
Happiness should be the accidental by-product of doing what we love, not a target. In this sense, happiness can only be known in retrospect. As in the cliché of schooldays being the happiest of your life, you know when you've been happy, and it was when you weren't particularly trying.
This means happiness comes from trying not to try. Really, it would be better if none of those thinkers had ever turned happiness into a concept, because in doing so, they fashioned an idol, and where idols are present, sacrifice follows.
More suffer in the name of happiness than derive satisfaction from it.
Today, people are acutely aware of being unhappy, and that only compounds the unhappiness.
The worst thing we can do is to keep talking about being happy; it only makes us miserable.
Far better to focus on what we believe in, devote ourselves to a meaningful task and be pleasantly surprised when a friend asks if we're happy and simply answer `yes`.
This writer, Robert Rowland Smith compounds this dialogue with on what we can expect about being truly happy. The book "Breakfast with Socrates: Philosophy of Everyday Life” definitely deserves all credit for shed some light in this matter.
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