Just Beyond ... Saramago and the critical
SEX And Was Always There When I Was from only eight years - tempting me
leaving me thirsty Sweat, skin, a PULSE divine to balance this restless MIND - it Seems so wonderfully physical
Oh the BLOOD, the lust, the bodies that color the world: all drugs to die for!
Won't you share my fire?
How can LOVE make that world a minefield of forbidden GROUND?
A map of untouchable skin and SILENCED desire?
And love was there in vain, PROFOUND and deep but traced with pain - too early for a child of TEN
Loving the pure and sane I sought the goddesses unstained - watching them turn to flesh again
HUNGRY for both the PURITY and SIN
Life seemed to me merely like a GALLERY of how to be
And he was always much HUMAN than he wished to be
But there is a LOGIC to my world, if they could only see
Wishing - Sickened - I'll - Ticking
SOMEONE still this hunger (it's in my blood) always growing stronger (ticking)
BUDAPEST I'm learning, Budapest you're burning me
This is not who I wanted to be, this is not what I wanted to see
She's so young so why don't I feel free now that she is here under me?
Naked- Touching - Soft - Clutching
And then after all it lead me here to wake up again
Seeking a love that might make me feel free in myself but then it proves to be
Something that hurts inside when we touch, so I move on, I lose my way
Astray I'm trying too much to feel unchained, to burn out this sense of feeling cold
And every day I seek my prey: someone to taste and to hold
I feel alive during the split second when they smile and meet my eyes
But I could cry 'cause I feel broken inside!
COME and DROWN with me- the UNDERTOW will sweep us away!
And you will see that I'm ADDICTED to my HONESTY
Trust! 'Cause after all my sense of TRUTH once caught me here
But I've LOST control and I don't know if I am true to my soul
I've lost CONTROL and I don't know if I am true to my soul
Losing control and I don't know if I am TRUE AT ALL
And we were always much more human than we wished to be...
And I remember when you said you've been UNDER him - I was suprised to feel such pain
And all those years of being faithful to YOU despite the hunger flowing through my veins
And I have always tried to calm things down - SWALLOW down swallow down
It's just another small THORN in my crown
But suddenly one day there was just too much blood in my eyes, and I had to take this WALK down
REMEDY LANE of whens and whys...
Empty - Licking - Clean - Choking
SOMEONE still hunger (possessing my mind) always growing stronger (craving)
BUDAPEST I'm learning, Budapest I'm burning me
This is not who I wanted to be, this is not what I wanted to see
She's so young so why I don't feel free now that she's under me?
In the morning she's going away in a Budapest taxi I've paid
Seeking freedom I touched the untouched - it's too much - I'm BEYOND THE PALE...
Prematurity is the story of both you and me, and we were always much more human than we wished to be
Prematurity is truly the story of both you and me, and we were always much more human than we wished to be
We were always much more human than we wished to be - we were always much more human than we wished to be
We will always be much more human than we wish to be
WE WILL ALWAYS BE SO MUCH MORE HUMAN THAN WE WISH TO BE...
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Saturday, June 19, 2010
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te (le) olog The Same Old Fears
Saramago è stato dunque un uomo e un intellettuale di nessuna ammissione metafisica, nailed to the last in his stubborn belief in historical materialism, Marxism alias. Autocollocatosi clearly on the side of the evangelical cornfield weeds, declared sleepless at the thought of the Crusades or the Inquisition, forgetting the memory of the gulag, the "purges" of genocide, cultural and religious samizdat.
I quote from an article by Claudio Toscani (Osservatore Romano) on José Saramago, one of the biggest names in contemporary European literature.
I state that I speak out of turn, not knowing that even a journalist and writer, to whom I can only remember only the incipit de The Stone Raft, left too early because I had no suitable concentration to addentrarmici. That said, I can not outraged by the article, however well written, an extremist accusation of extremism and to conceal the conviction of being right. I wonder, sincerely curious why some Catholics (usually those at the top, evidently the Eye of God up there can not see them) they automatically own the attributes of divinity adored - and here ricito Toscani order: omnipotence, omniscience, all-seeing . What then, I enjoy knowing how the followers of any sect can put God and science in the same sentence, where the latter is subject to the first.
annoys me, discomfort, DISCOMFORT that as an educated person should definitely be this cynical reviewer, is cast with such ferocity against an author on certain measurable yardsticks much more relevant to the metaphysical approach existence , regardless of his poetry, even by his fluency.
Why, Mr. Toscani, did not speak particularly of this, without omitting even the negative reviews? Do not you think that a criticism of style, talent, and ultimately the work of a lifetime, even if the limit dell'insofferenza would was a much more worthy epitaph? Not to mention that we're all sad to hear the various ambassadors of different ideologies now dead or almost every opportunity to blast each other's wrongs: you had Torquemada, they had Stalin, you Boniface VIII and their Mengele ... I have done this but you've done that one, Gne Gne campaigns. Well, enough, for god - yes, the your God, do it for him if not for me. Grow, dammit, evolvetevi if you want to save face to your Thinking otherwise closed mouth and pen in your pocket, you do more than look good.
So simplistic, inappropriate and indeed I found her child belabor partisan issues, as they say, as long as you are leaving, and then just waste. It is a pity that with each passing day it is found as the great Dante had been wrong: the high ball of the Catholic religion are not much less celestial celestial, but dense black smoke that the next boss will look good from clear, (for once) in spite of the rite.
Saramago è stato dunque un uomo e un intellettuale di nessuna ammissione metafisica, nailed to the last in his stubborn belief in historical materialism, Marxism alias. Autocollocatosi clearly on the side of the evangelical cornfield weeds, declared sleepless at the thought of the Crusades or the Inquisition, forgetting the memory of the gulag, the "purges" of genocide, cultural and religious samizdat.
I quote from an article by Claudio Toscani (Osservatore Romano) on José Saramago, one of the biggest names in contemporary European literature.
I state that I speak out of turn, not knowing that even a journalist and writer, to whom I can only remember only the incipit de The Stone Raft, left too early because I had no suitable concentration to addentrarmici. That said, I can not outraged by the article, however well written, an extremist accusation of extremism and to conceal the conviction of being right. I wonder, sincerely curious why some Catholics (usually those at the top, evidently the Eye of God up there can not see them) they automatically own the attributes of divinity adored - and here ricito Toscani order: omnipotence, omniscience, all-seeing . What then, I enjoy knowing how the followers of any sect can put God and science in the same sentence, where the latter is subject to the first.
annoys me, discomfort, DISCOMFORT that as an educated person should definitely be this cynical reviewer, is cast with such ferocity against an author on certain measurable yardsticks much more relevant to the metaphysical approach existence , regardless of his poetry, even by his fluency.
Why, Mr. Toscani, did not speak particularly of this, without omitting even the negative reviews? Do not you think that a criticism of style, talent, and ultimately the work of a lifetime, even if the limit dell'insofferenza would was a much more worthy epitaph? Not to mention that we're all sad to hear the various ambassadors of different ideologies now dead or almost every opportunity to blast each other's wrongs: you had Torquemada, they had Stalin, you Boniface VIII and their Mengele ... I have done this but you've done that one, Gne Gne campaigns. Well, enough, for god - yes, the your God, do it for him if not for me. Grow, dammit, evolvetevi if you want to save face to your Thinking otherwise closed mouth and pen in your pocket, you do more than look good.
So simplistic, inappropriate and indeed I found her child belabor partisan issues, as they say, as long as you are leaving, and then just waste. It is a pity that with each passing day it is found as the great Dante had been wrong: the high ball of the Catholic religion are not much less celestial celestial, but dense black smoke that the next boss will look good from clear, (for once) in spite of the rite.
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