Comecei a escrever no momento em que percebi que só pensar não mais me satisfazia.

Precisava transbordar todo aquele pensamento que só ao meu universo de idéias pertencia.

Hoje, escrevo por pura necessidade, por irresistível vício e por agradável teimosia.

Claudia Pinelli Rêgo Fernandes ®

domingo, junho 20, 2004

Bill Howell's poems

Le Baiser de Bordighera by Helmut Newton Posted by Hello

Watching as the Lady Moves Through the Mirror

Across a flat barren plain a lady stands in a darkened doorway
Watching herself upon the first gray horse she sees
Galloping wild and free just before the force of a hard wind,
Holding tight the black mane, in awe of the speed of the beast she strides.

This is the spirit of fires from deep within her blue immortal soul
Given free rein to ride bareback, making her body pay for every dusty mile
Touching not the cold flat ground but flying just above at reckless speed
Holding tight with her sweat glistened thighs, upon the charging gray horse.

Across a flat barren plain the lady rides a fast gray horse our Devil made
Wind and mane beat her face, whipping and urging her on to still greater
Sweating despite the cold, but from energy fires deep within forgotten
Holding tight the black mane with clenched fist, leaning heavy into the

Suddenly, all is still.
The gray horse turns
Equine eyes flaming with heat,
Horse flesh lathered,
The lady sitting straight.

The lady rider burns
Female eyes open and aware
Woman flesh lathered
The gray horse in a slow walk

Stopping by a lazy winter stream
Her tight mane-grasp unbroken
She feels the speed gone as she turns
To see the lady she knows to be herself
Quietly step into the mirror
By the darkened doorway far away.

From atop the horse,
The lady looks at her image in the winter stream
And after a time wonders even as she slowly rides,
"Which is the shadow lady now in the mirror ... and which is me?"

An Imaginary Lady

There was time and touch
But now quiet rumbles all through the rooms
and across the lawn
A dark bird flies quickly by
Interrupting the sunlight only a moment.
You lifted your hand and reached over
And suddenly all this was gone
The stillness and quiet became loud.
There was time and touch,
But only shreds of memory linger,
moved softly by an unseen wind.

Bonitos, não são?? / Beautiful, huh??

Eles foram escritos por um amigo americano, o Bill.
They were written by an American friend of mine, Bill...

Bjo. Kiss.

Música: Follow the sun do Enchant.
Music: Follow the sun of Enchant

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Your season is Winter, when the stars are bright and frost crystallizes the fallen leaves.
You are introspective, deep-thinking, and mysterious.
Everyone is intrigued and a little intimidated by you because you have an aura of otherworldliness.
You work in extremes, sometime happy, other times sad, but always creative and philosophical.
You are more concerned with the unseen, mystical, and metaphysical than the real world.
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