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quarta-feira, março 21, 2007
Vincent
Tim Burton's poem
Vincent Malloy is seven years old
He’s always polite and does what he’s told
For a boy his age, he’s considerate and nice
But he wants to be just like Vincent Price
He doesn’t mind living with his sister, dog and cats
Though he’d rather share a home with spiders and bats
There he could reflect on the horrors he’s invented
And wander dark hallways, alone and tormented
Vincent is nice when his aunt comes to see him
But imagines dipping her in wax for his wax museum
He likes to experiment on his dog Abercrombie
In the hopes of creating a horrible zombie
So he and his horrible zombie dog
Could go searching for victims in the London fog
His thoughts, though, aren’t only of ghoulish crimes
He likes to paint and read to pass some of the times
While other kids read books like Go, Jane, Go!
Vincent’s favourite author is Edgar Allen Poe
One night, while reading a gruesome tale
He read a passage that made him turn pale
Such horrible news he could not survive
For his beautiful wife had been buried alive!
He dug out her grave to make sure she was dead
Unaware that her grave was his mother’s flower bed
His mother sent Vincent off to his room
He knew he’d been banished to the tower of doom
Where he was sentenced to spend the rest of his life
Alone with the portrait of his beautiful wife
While alone and insane encased in his tomb
Vincent’s mother burst suddenly into the room
She said: “If you want to, you can go out and play
It’s sunny outside, and a beautiful day”
Vincent tried to talk, but he just couldn’t speak
The years of isolation had made him quite weak
So he took out some paper and scrawled with a pen:
“I am possessed by this house, and can never leave it again”
His mother said: “You’re not possessed, and you’re not almost dead
These games that you play are all in your head
You’re not Vincent Price, you’re Vincent Malloy
You’re not tormented or insane, you’re just a young boy
You’re seven years old and you are my son
I want you to get outside and have some real fun.
”Her anger now spent, she walked out through the hall
And while Vincent backed slowly against the wall
The room started to swell, to shiver and creak
His horrid insanity had reached its peak
He saw Abercrombie, his zombie slave
And heard his wife call from beyond the grave
She spoke from her coffin and made ghoulish demands
While, through cracking walls, reached skeleton hands
Every horror in his life that had crept through his dreams
Swept his mad laughter to terrified screams!
To escape the madness, he reached for the door
But fell limp and lifeless down on the floor
His voice was soft and very slow
As he quoted The Raven from Edgar Allen Poe:
“and my soul from out that shadow
that lies floating on the floor
shall be lifted?
Nevermore…”
Tim Burton's poem
Vincent Malloy is seven years old
He’s always polite and does what he’s told
For a boy his age, he’s considerate and nice
But he wants to be just like Vincent Price
He doesn’t mind living with his sister, dog and cats
Though he’d rather share a home with spiders and bats
There he could reflect on the horrors he’s invented
And wander dark hallways, alone and tormented
Vincent is nice when his aunt comes to see him
But imagines dipping her in wax for his wax museum
He likes to experiment on his dog Abercrombie
In the hopes of creating a horrible zombie
So he and his horrible zombie dog
Could go searching for victims in the London fog
His thoughts, though, aren’t only of ghoulish crimes
He likes to paint and read to pass some of the times
While other kids read books like Go, Jane, Go!
Vincent’s favourite author is Edgar Allen Poe
One night, while reading a gruesome tale
He read a passage that made him turn pale
Such horrible news he could not survive
For his beautiful wife had been buried alive!
He dug out her grave to make sure she was dead
Unaware that her grave was his mother’s flower bed
His mother sent Vincent off to his room
He knew he’d been banished to the tower of doom
Where he was sentenced to spend the rest of his life
Alone with the portrait of his beautiful wife
While alone and insane encased in his tomb
Vincent’s mother burst suddenly into the room
She said: “If you want to, you can go out and play
It’s sunny outside, and a beautiful day”
Vincent tried to talk, but he just couldn’t speak
The years of isolation had made him quite weak
So he took out some paper and scrawled with a pen:
“I am possessed by this house, and can never leave it again”
His mother said: “You’re not possessed, and you’re not almost dead
These games that you play are all in your head
You’re not Vincent Price, you’re Vincent Malloy
You’re not tormented or insane, you’re just a young boy
You’re seven years old and you are my son
I want you to get outside and have some real fun.
”Her anger now spent, she walked out through the hall
And while Vincent backed slowly against the wall
The room started to swell, to shiver and creak
His horrid insanity had reached its peak
He saw Abercrombie, his zombie slave
And heard his wife call from beyond the grave
She spoke from her coffin and made ghoulish demands
While, through cracking walls, reached skeleton hands
Every horror in his life that had crept through his dreams
Swept his mad laughter to terrified screams!
To escape the madness, he reached for the door
But fell limp and lifeless down on the floor
His voice was soft and very slow
As he quoted The Raven from Edgar Allen Poe:
“and my soul from out that shadow
that lies floating on the floor
shall be lifted?
Nevermore…”
daqui
quinta-feira, março 08, 2007
domingo, março 04, 2007
.
"W.B. - A nossa música é como a Bíblia, que não é um livro
complicado. Cada passagem pode ser alvo de múltiplas
leituras. Alguns profetas são sarcásticos, mas se quisermos
encontrar um sentido religioso nas suas palavras acabarenos
por encontrá-lo. A fé induz à fé. Só sei que a maior benesse de
todas é estar vivo. E isso também pode estar na música. Mesmo
quando tudo parece sombrio, como para os escravos que
trabalhavam nos campos de algodão no Sul dos EUA. Mesmo
assim, cantavam."
complicado. Cada passagem pode ser alvo de múltiplas
leituras. Alguns profetas são sarcásticos, mas se quisermos
encontrar um sentido religioso nas suas palavras acabarenos
por encontrá-lo. A fé induz à fé. Só sei que a maior benesse de
todas é estar vivo. E isso também pode estar na música. Mesmo
quando tudo parece sombrio, como para os escravos que
trabalhavam nos campos de algodão no Sul dos EUA. Mesmo
assim, cantavam."
sábado, março 03, 2007
Sangue Sábio (1)
"The LORD is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in mercy. He will not always strive with us, nor will He keep His anger forever. He has not dealt with us according to our sins, nor punished us according to our iniquities."
Psalm 103:8-10
"But go and learn what this means: `I desire mercy and not sacrifice.´ For I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance."
Matthew 9:13
"For He says to Moses, `I will have mercy on whomever I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whomever I will have compassion.´"
Romans 9:15
"But God, who is rich in mercy because of His great love with which He loved us, even
when we were dead in trespasses, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved)"
Ephesians 2:4&5
"Haze turned and looked at the house he was going into. It was little more than a shack but there was a warm glow in one front window. He went up on the front porch and put his eye to a convenient crack directly at a large white knee. After some time he moved away from the crack and tried the front door. It was not locked and he went into a small dark hall with a door on either side of it. The door to the left was cracked and let out a narrow shaft of light. He moved into the light and looked through the crack"
p. 32 Wise Blood
How is Haze experiencing God´s mercy in this situation?
How is he resisting God´s mercy?
How do we resist His mercy?
How do we submit to His mercy?
What´s this got to do with art? "
Psalm 103:8-10
"But go and learn what this means: `I desire mercy and not sacrifice.´ For I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance."
Matthew 9:13
"For He says to Moses, `I will have mercy on whomever I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whomever I will have compassion.´"
Romans 9:15
"But God, who is rich in mercy because of His great love with which He loved us, even
when we were dead in trespasses, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved)"
Ephesians 2:4&5
"Haze turned and looked at the house he was going into. It was little more than a shack but there was a warm glow in one front window. He went up on the front porch and put his eye to a convenient crack directly at a large white knee. After some time he moved away from the crack and tried the front door. It was not locked and he went into a small dark hall with a door on either side of it. The door to the left was cracked and let out a narrow shaft of light. He moved into the light and looked through the crack"
p. 32 Wise Blood
How is Haze experiencing God´s mercy in this situation?
How is he resisting God´s mercy?
How do we resist His mercy?
How do we submit to His mercy?
What´s this got to do with art? "