Research by keywords…
7 de Setembro de 2016, 12:48
Just in case you didn’t know, in your Blog’s stats, you can see the visits you got after a research by keywords.
I like having a look at what brings people to the Cove, and most of the times, the searched words are “Once I was 7 years old”, most probably because of the Lukas Graham song. (Otherwise, people would be very curious about being 7 years old, which sounds really weird to me!) Because of that, my post “Once I was 6 years old…” got a lot of views.
Today, someone made a search for the words “having dreams about choking on a tea bag” leading to my post “Choking on a tea bag…”.
This kind of things makes me love life!
When I wrote the post, I remember thinking “what were the odds, that an elderly would choke on a tea bag?” Now I am wondering “what…
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us
7 de Setembro de 2016, 12:46
i lost my way, on avenues of promise,
i built walls, on fragile grounds of loss,
you reached in, picking me up, as I lay strewn amidst the detritus,
you turned to me, and i to you,
fortifying our core,
us,
together,
and,
that is the talisman that keeps us true … … …
A TRAGÉDIA BRASILEIRA SEGUNDO FERNANDO BONASSI
7 de Setembro de 2016, 12:46
Por Alexandre Pimenta
Luxúria (2015), o último romance do escritor brasileiro Fernando Bonassi, é rico em elementos para pensar a conjuntura nacional. A trágica história de um operário e sua família, baseada “em pessoas e acontecimentos reais, lamentavelmente”, tenta sintetizar nosso último momento histórico “de prosperidade num país acostumado a viver na merda”. Por ironia do destino, o lançamento do livro marcou o ínicio do fim dessa fase – e o um rápido retorno às origens, quer seja, a merda.
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A Little Twinkle in a Starless and Bible-Black Sky…
7 de Setembro de 2016, 12:45
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/twinkle/
Dark has been my mood, dark as a poetic sky – though lacking the lilting loveliness of the original.
Missing him, I am, the other half of my self whom I had to release (for his destiny and mine no longer marched forward hand-in-warm-hand) when our boat cracked upon the craggy surface of this Cymraeg beach.
The blessed brightness of the Moon Goddess sails close by – and, for all that my cowled head is down, negotiating the rain-slick rocks and ankle-cracking crevices of the towering cliffs, the calling-out of my True-Name comes as a jolting shock.
Since the waters crunched up, and spat out, my old homeland, I – and those others who sailed with me, upon the sad ship of necessary lore and law, to far distant lands – have survived, though it has been a hard and bitter journey. And I? I have adopted a name…
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