nUM Suspiro

Por vezes, de um minuto faço horas! conforme a força dos Segundos.

Por vezes, de uma letra uma palavra, d'uma palavra um poema!

Conforme a força dos versos.

às vezes do teu sorriso faço uma estoria linda! conforme a força do teu olhar.

Sempre hei-de fazer da distancia um aproximar.

Conforme e sem forme da forma de me.te apaixonar!

MigueL MooN

almost a Love LETTER II

Apetece-me rasgar o vento.

Apetece-me rasgar o vento. apetece-me cavar O mar.

Apetece-me cavar o mar. apetece-me acordar O sono.

Apetece-me acordar o sono.

Apetece-me adormecer O acordar.

Apetece-me gelar o sol e acender o luar.

Apetece-me correr depressa e devagar.

Ao mesmo tempo.

Ao mesmo tempo. neste tempo desigual.

Neste tempo desigual. Neste relogio Bom a bater mal.

Os segundos são dias. As horas são anos.

Os dias são meses.

Os minutos insanos.

Esses minutos que temos.

Esses minutos que temos e que, se temos, desperdiçamos.

Minutos desperdiçados. Os segundos são dias.

Minutos desperdiçados . As horas são anos.

Minutos desperdiçados. Os dias são meses.

...e eu aqui, num monólogo que devia ser diálogo...

...e eu aqui, Morto por te ter ao meu lado nessa estranha forma de Vida que é um Mundo partilhado...

Mais estranho, Nesta vida, só mesmo...

Eu aqui em Ti, e Tu,

sem mim, nem mim..

em outro qualquer lado.

Miguel MooN

trips Lunar

TU que me arrebatas o coração,

que me acompanhas, que me prendes..

Tu que me iluminas na escuridão,

que não estranhas, que não sentes, tu...

Que respondes a cada pergunta sem questionar,

Que te elevas no espaço mesmo que sem voar, tu...

TU que me fazes sentir o chão,

que é de terra, que é de mar..

Tu que me guardas, oh ancião,

que não és homem nem mulher, que és Lunar...

TU.

Tu que luz tua, tua não ser,

que te mostras, que te escondes a teu bel prazer..

Tu que viste minh'alma nua crescer, tu...

e a TU eu tenho que dizer.

QUE tu me tens toda a minha paixão,

Em chama que não se apaga em vão,

pois que tu vives em mim eterna e ao

Que por amor concerna,

Serás sempre a minha doce louca tentação.

E eu serei teu como sou.

Quando nova a me guiar,

Quando em quartos me abraçar,

Quando cheia pra me deleitar...no teu LUAR..tu..

TU!

LUA lunar.

MigueL MooN

almost a Love LETTER

You have something.
what is it? Doesn't matter. You have something.
how do i know that? I don't Know that. I FEEL it.
Is it possible? Tell me about impossible.
It is not a matter of believing in love at first sight. It is an issue of every sight and natural reactions to each of it. whatever you think about it.
That something that makes me look around for you. Waiting for the right look that will find you.
That something that makes me stupidly nervous after i found you.
That something that stops my rationality and accelerates my heart.
That something that looses my smile everytime you go away.
Sometimes i feel like screaming to the world THAT SOMETHING i would love to whisper close to your ear.
...And i wait. not for the right time. There isn't one.
I wait for that moment i wont have to say nothing. And then i'll talk.
I wait.
I can't risk to be misunderstood.
I can.
But i don't.
I wait.
I don't believe I can CAUSE that something. WE can cause that something to be SUPERIOR. But that is already... WE.
That something is just an I.
and I...
wait.

MigueL MooN

D I S T A N C E

The distance i will write about is not measured in meters. This distance I am talking about hits us with the strenght of a vulcano! In a measure of a word. A word that is described as soul tears. Tears are not translatable.

This word either!

SAUDADE

I followed my way. You stayed. And again. AND AGAIN.

Now we are separated. Depending on the "we", we always are.

But what put as apart also brings us together. what? SAUDADE. The physical distance makes me feel saudade of you. Feeling saudades of you makes me feel you closer to me. it's mathematics! And it's vague. It's rational. And it's not.

Wherever i am, i have saudade running together with my blood. They both feed me.

Distance kills me.

MigueL MooN

me . christmas . you . ç .

"last christmas i gave you my heart..."
..

Last christmas you showed me your heart.

You, that i proudly call friends.

You showed me that when WAR is taking over LOVE, the little actions like Ç actions, can make all the difference.

You showed me that prejudice about our generation is just showoff.

We are the generation before playstation. And with it.

We are the generation before celulars. And with it.

We are the last generation before world wide WEB. AND WITH IT.

we are the, maybe, last generation with golden oil. MAYBE NOT.

We are the generation you made me proud of. FOR SURE.

"they" don't see it? Life will open theire eyes. MAYBE THEY LIVE IN BLINDNESS.

And still we are worried enough and consciousnessly waiting for an opportunity to help. help us helping. someone. somehow. whenever. Help. When we could seat and enjoy christmas dinner. you helped. you made all of us help. little help. huge help. you did. we did it. and we enjoyed even more that christmas dinner. And i could believe in santa claus again. Because i saw it. In us. On us. Around us.

I don't care that much about Christmas. Every year less. That is just not important. The Christmas feeling, the Christmas SPIRIT will care about me. And as long as we care about eachother, all Çpirit we have and we find will be enough.

As long as we care.

From ME, thanking last CHRISTMAS to YOU my so Ç friends

MigueL MooN

O D E ao meu AMIGO Rui Minhoto to my FRIEND NOCTURNE POET

Because frindship is the supreme excuse to whatever we do. these words were written to someone that made me see that reality behind the mirror. At these point, "me" like "him".

Dizem que à noite sou um poeta, que só quando ela cai eu me consigo levantar.

Dizem que a minha vida comeca na meta, apenas porque escrevo os meus versos ao luar...

Mas não dizem que são as estrelas que me mostram o caminho, que a sua musica me faz sonhar..

No escuro nao me sinto sozinho, encontro sempre um astro para me acompanhar, por isso me deito na aurora do dia qdo o sol comeca a raiar....

OH LUA eu bem te dizia que qdo o astro rei fugia, tu nascias para eu te AMAR!

MigueL MooN

(not originally in english)

They say i'm a poet in the late evening, they say that only when evening cames i can rise myself.

They say that my life only starts at the goal, they say only ´cause i write my verses with moonlight.

But they do not say that are the stars who show me my way, and it´s theire music that makes me dream.

In the dark i'm never feeling alone. I always find a star to accompany me, so I lie in the dawn of day, when the sun beggins to shine.

OH MOON i did tell you so that when the king star was running away, you were born so i could LOVE you!

W H Y

In order to understand it, you would have to understand me. In order to understand myself, i will be releasing words that i´ve been keeping to long.

They will not define me. Writing them will.

Remember there are always too many different perspectives of the same angle. And still to many angles to get ONE perspective.

Probably it will be an endless task. Good. Untill the end. confuse? NOT. Just getting started. why? In order to understand IT...

Feel free to enjoy. Free feelings to enjoy.

MigueL MooN