An international blog about literature and ecocriticism. Here I include my own lyrics, by Rui M. and also the work of others, from 10 to 14 each month 2017: new contributions sent to Periodical Art contests and Critics. Thanks. Arigatou

Dez 13

Your vampire and our blood that feeds me


I know you are a good girl

And I am your volatile vampire...

That lives in a strange swirl,

Of feelings forming a last empire.


But my heart is frozen and alone,

Just a cold piece of metal...

That is hard-hearted stone,

A strange flower without a petal...


I ask myself if I am still alive,

Cause my vessels are deep blue...

And my muscles for movement they strive,

For you and your eyes that are true...


I am just tired to sing alone everywere,

Under the light of the moon,

Spreading my wings to nowere,

Without running away from the doom...



NOTE: poem inspired in "O teu vampiro e o nosso sangue que me alimenta" (in Portuguese)



O teu vampiro e o nosso sangue que me alimenta


Eu sou o teu voluptuoso Vampiro

E bebo o teu amor vermelho para viver.

Mas, de ti, apenas arranco um suspiro,

Como o "sim" que tens medo de dizer.


E vivo apenas de noite, sozinho,

À luz de uma triste e singela vela...

Sempre sedento do teu carinho,

Fugindo da luz diurna que revela...


Só que este Natal quero ir-me,

Em pedaços felizes e livres pelo mundo...

Por capilaridade microscópica ferir-me,

No longe deste planeta imundo...


E assim ser o teu horizonte de calor,

Feito do avermelhado do teu sangue.

Converter-me no nosso enlevado ardor,

No toque da tua mão que me afague...

published by talesforlove às 00:27

Fev 13


My royal blue is only your colorful wood house

Worm place, where I can find your ivory arms

Someday, I am certain, you will be my spouse

But today we are golden lovers in arm’s


The many small clay tiles in the roof are poppy red

The wall, of exotic wood: India yellow

The views of that evenly place: perfectly mellow

More if my lips touch yours. Blood: vermilium red.


Our deep lake near the house has waters sap green

Reflecting the phthalo blue and indigo of sky

Also the trees' colors with those fruits we are keen


Everything perfect when I see your eyes

If I don’t, then, my face is mineral white

And caput mortuum abandon our skies



published by talesforlove às 00:09

Out 12

Dear friends, this is the first of a group of posts (I want to believe it is) about life and literature. To begin with I would like to tell you that I think literature should be as sugar to life, because it can ad magic and good feelings. For me literature is something that can make us think but should be essentially to make us feel better. It should be able to produce a blue mist as we felt during adolescence as Leon Tosltoy might believe.

Next day I will talk more about this.

Please come here always.


published by talesforlove às 23:07

published by talesforlove às 22:56

Jul 12

Poetry! That colour of dreams!

A few words and canned screams.

 A blue sun, and a purple sky.

Give me a chance and I will tell you why!

I wonder why you wonder with immaginary blue wonders.

 Poetry is that: a wonder made of salt we tast in our mind!
But never mind, althought a blue flame means a colder fire,

 poetry is not like water: it will never extinguish your internal desire!

And I hope you poetically understood...

published by talesforlove às 23:55

Dez 11

published by talesforlove às 23:23