<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282</id><updated>2012-01-20T01:44:22.639-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Poetisa Lancinante</title><subtitle type='html'>Um verso a mais, um verso a menos, esta é a grande diferença...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>32</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-1391897380836379621</id><published>2012-01-19T16:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T16:10:55.158-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UVeE3VP4VHQ/TxivgZlY2nI/AAAAAAAADU4/MU64mkWGOTg/s1600/maos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="233" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UVeE3VP4VHQ/TxivgZlY2nI/AAAAAAAADU4/MU64mkWGOTg/s320/maos.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Sentidos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Eu sou cinco sentidos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;ouço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;vejo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;tateio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;gosto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;cheiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;mas quando você me toca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;então tudo se transforma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;eu ouço o gosto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;gosto do que vejo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;tateio teu cheiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;cheiro teu olhar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;ao som do teu toque&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;tudo há de mudar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;e o mundo passa a ser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;uma dança confusa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;me atrapalho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;ao gosto do teu amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;me embaralho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;deixo de ter cinco sentidos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;pra tão e somente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;ser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;o sentido do seu tato&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-1391897380836379621?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/1391897380836379621/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=1391897380836379621' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/1391897380836379621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/1391897380836379621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2012/01/sentidos-eu-sou-cinco-sentidos-ouco.html' title=''/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UVeE3VP4VHQ/TxivgZlY2nI/AAAAAAAADU4/MU64mkWGOTg/s72-c/maos.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-9222061049165451857</id><published>2010-10-19T14:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-19T14:58:04.245-07:00</updated><title type='text'>VULGARIDADE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/TL4UVHvxWQI/AAAAAAAADMk/SSWkELoLCtg/s1600/bookheart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/TL4UVHvxWQI/AAAAAAAADMk/SSWkELoLCtg/s320/bookheart.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Se me chamas vulgar e volúvel&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sim, eu sou!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mas não tenho como esconder o amor que a cada dia descubro&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Por tantos, ao mesmo tempo, eu amo de tantas formas&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Louca eu sou!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;São muitos nomes os meus amores&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Barba por fazer, são homens feitos,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Outros carecas, são homens de todos os jeitos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Passam a toda hora pela minha janela&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E a cada dia me encantam com versos,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;trocadilhos, piadas e histórias&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Então me entrego e sou só deles por algumas horas&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sumo do mundo, nem adianta me procurar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Estou escondida, namorando eles, em algum lugar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Amo a Fernando, por seus trocadilhos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Amo a Fernando em cada Pessoa&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Amo Carlos, por suas letras tocantes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Amo a Carlos em cada Drummond&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Amo a Nelson em suas impurezas&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Amo a Nelson em cada Rodrigues&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Amo Mario por seu jeito simples&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Amo a Mario em cada Quintana&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E amo tanto a eles que os convido para virem aqui&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Estirarem os pés no meu sofá branco&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tomar um café com bolo de fubá&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ou um licor doce num copo minúsculo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E quem chegar e olhar as estantes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Vai ver que não é só de homens que gosto&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Voluptosa amo também as mulheres&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Florbela, Cecilia e tantas outras&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Escorre algo pelas prateleiras&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sujando os livros e os adornos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;É um amor puro pelos versos alheios&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;quisera eu que fossem meus os teus versos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;pois que dizem tanto o que sinto como eu quisera dizer um dia&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Amo a tantos que, descarada, como eles tento ser:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Poeta ou poetisa, o que bem entender....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-9222061049165451857?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/9222061049165451857/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=9222061049165451857' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/9222061049165451857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/9222061049165451857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2010/10/vulgaridade.html' title='VULGARIDADE'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/TL4UVHvxWQI/AAAAAAAADMk/SSWkELoLCtg/s72-c/bookheart.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-5073362744579258936</id><published>2010-10-14T21:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T21:51:13.564-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poeta noturno</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/TLfdcHTJ3fI/AAAAAAAADMg/txgMRTIVI6o/s1600/tacas" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/TLfdcHTJ3fI/AAAAAAAADMg/txgMRTIVI6o/s400/tacas" width="312" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;noite fria&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;quase madrugada&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;atrasado...chegaste&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vinho branco&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;taças cheias&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;queijo farto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;beijos, abraços...ficaste&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sorrisos lentos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;olhares cortantes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;mãos entrelaçadas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;roupas jogadas...amaste&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Movimentos lentos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;dança rápida&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;respiração ofegante&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gritos, sussurros, grunhidos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;esquecido entre os lençóis...cansaste&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sorrisos na escuridão&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;bocas, pernas, copos, corpos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;quietude enfim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;abraço morno e silêncio...dormiste&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hora tardia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;raia o dia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;cabelos em desalinho&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;bocas (ainda) de vinho &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;mantenho sigilo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sono tranqüilo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e lá seu foi o meu amor...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-5073362744579258936?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/5073362744579258936/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=5073362744579258936' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/5073362744579258936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/5073362744579258936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2010/10/poeta-noturno.html' title='Poeta noturno'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/TLfdcHTJ3fI/AAAAAAAADMg/txgMRTIVI6o/s72-c/tacas' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-7215084131665129950</id><published>2010-08-15T18:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T18:40:53.839-07:00</updated><title type='text'>POETISA NUA</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/TGiWpM_ye0I/AAAAAAAADKw/_BVp1Hwg5dg/s1600/poetisa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ox="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/TGiWpM_ye0I/AAAAAAAADKw/_BVp1Hwg5dg/s320/poetisa.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Da música lenta&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Meus braços cansados&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que queriam abraçar o mundo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pra nunca mais voltar às lágrimas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nua e feliz&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rodopiei na sala&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Girava a saia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Desgrudaram-se os pelos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Soltei os cabelos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Abri os braços&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Soltei os laços&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E tudo renasceu em mim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E tudo que era besta se fez em letra&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E tudo que era dor se fez em amor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E tudo que era palavra&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Virou verso&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pendurado na linha&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E cada uma tinha sua própria rima&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lira - Presa - Solta&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E quem me visse &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rodopiando na sala ...a louca&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ela era o poeta de saias longas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De cabelos soltos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De cachos loucos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E tudo foi virando-girando&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E em paz se tornando&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pra sorrisos de luz se compor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pra nunca mais sentir dor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Porque a cada dia junto com tudo o que há&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;se renasce um pouco&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E a cada dia se faz um louco&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Porque cada um voa solto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pra nunca mais ser peso morto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E cada verso que o poeta compor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vai falar de luz, paz e amor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vai lembrar da moça que rodopiava&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nua entre quatro paredes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Onde não existiam espaços&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E tudo era livre, solto em versos... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E a música se fez &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O canto que se quis&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E o pranto não mais existiu&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No meio de um outro canto que teimava em renascer...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-7215084131665129950?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/7215084131665129950/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=7215084131665129950' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/7215084131665129950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/7215084131665129950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2010/08/poetisa-nua.html' title='POETISA NUA'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/TGiWpM_ye0I/AAAAAAAADKw/_BVp1Hwg5dg/s72-c/poetisa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-1761828138808204045</id><published>2010-05-27T18:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T18:12:31.216-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ABRINDO PORTAS</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S_8XyvDW1kI/AAAAAAAAC3U/E-cgOkoxGK4/s1600/mulher.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" gu="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S_8XyvDW1kI/AAAAAAAAC3U/E-cgOkoxGK4/s320/mulher.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Vou deixar a porta aberta &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;pra quando você chegar &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;não repare nas janelas abertas &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;nem nos móveis fora do lugar &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Assim é minha casa &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;espelho de minha alma, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;imperfeita como eu sou &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;coisas tortas, nunca mortas &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;estantes coloridas &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;flores repartidas &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;tenho a lua na parede &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;e a alma de luar &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E quando você chegar &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;juro que outra pessoa vou tentar ser &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;tentarei não comparar fatos e coisas &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;tentarei não esquecer nomes e horas &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;mas não sei por quanto tempo &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;vou conseguir ser perfeita pra você &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;porque é assim que realmente sou &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;esqueço das horas a cantar &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;perco as chaves porque deixei fora de lugar &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;e pra mim não há lugar pra nada &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;quando lá fora é noite, madrugada &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;e você vai entender muito mais de sorrisos &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;e canções que você nunca pensara escutar &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;vai aprender a olhar lagos &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;e o que contém mãos entrelaçadas e olhos nos olhos &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;eu só sei da porta que deixei aberta &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;e do meu coração que anda descompassado &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;ansioso e louco a te esperar &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;eu só sei da flores que arrumei num vaso &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;das toalhas novas e do abajour multicor &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;eu só sei do beijo que te darei em poucos instantes &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;pra não deixar você notar as paredes flamejantes &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;pra prender te em meu abraço &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;matar tua sede e esquecer o cansaço &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;eu só sei do som lindo de nossos risos juntos &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;das frases soltas que ajudaremos a compor &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;eu só sei que tudo o que espero &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;muito mais é certo é claro &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;e a lua lá fora sabe de tudo &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;o que eu já chorei, lamentei e sofri &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;mas ela nada vai te contar de mim &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;e nem precisa perguntar &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;basta me olhar, me tocar e sentir &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;porque apesar de ser feita de tantas imperfeições &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;há algo reluzente em mim &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;que te quer ao meu lado &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;que não quer te ver partir...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-1761828138808204045?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/1761828138808204045/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=1761828138808204045' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/1761828138808204045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/1761828138808204045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2010/05/abrindo-portas.html' title='ABRINDO PORTAS'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S_8XyvDW1kI/AAAAAAAAC3U/E-cgOkoxGK4/s72-c/mulher.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-3163765146035650929</id><published>2010-05-11T12:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T12:01:21.061-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Apaixonada</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S-mpS4KPBXI/AAAAAAAAC3M/rdcCaopLy-A/s1600/A+MULHER+BORBOLETA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S-mpS4KPBXI/AAAAAAAAC3M/rdcCaopLy-A/s320/A+MULHER+BORBOLETA.jpg" tt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Andara cabisbaixa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mas enfim levantei os olhos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Foi quando meus olhos encontraram os teus&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eras o amor que estava ali&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Transbordava amor através de ti&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e eu como se fosse copo, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;de tanto amor que transbordava, bebi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Apaixonei – me por ti&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não me importava tua estatura&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não contava com tua lisura&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não fiz questão de que gostasses da lua&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Simplesmente apaixonei-me por ti&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Porque eras o amor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que passava ali, bem debaixo de minha janela&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E tua mera presença &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;fizera minha pequena existência &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Muito mais bela&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pois eras um tipo de amor &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que não passa assim - despercebido...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eras um amor de tamanho grande, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Daqueles que toma conta, preenche o ar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quando chega e nos pega assim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Desprevenido...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E meu apaixonar-se não teria mais fim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E eu iria amar - te para sempre &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Até que o amor se fosse de ti&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E pousasse em outro ser&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um outro ser...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;mesmo que não fosse calmo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;mesmo que não fosse claro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;mesmo que não fosses mais a mesma pessoa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sim, eu iria pousar meu apaixonar em outro ser&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Porque o amor se fora de ti&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E entrara noutra pessoa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Porque sou como borboleta em flor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Em busca do néctar que vem do amor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;pois&amp;nbsp;o que eu amo não é você&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu amo a mais profunda alma do amor &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;É algo diáfano &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que sai dos corpos e voa solto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De ser em ser&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e&amp;nbsp;na realidade &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;eu sempre me apaixono &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;é pelo amor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-3163765146035650929?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/3163765146035650929/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=3163765146035650929' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/3163765146035650929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/3163765146035650929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2010/05/apaixonada.html' title='Apaixonada'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S-mpS4KPBXI/AAAAAAAAC3M/rdcCaopLy-A/s72-c/A+MULHER+BORBOLETA.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-2454808334647235138</id><published>2010-05-11T11:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T11:17:18.990-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eu e Você</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S5fvXzIUYnI/AAAAAAAAC2I/ysrLgRH3mYM/s1600-h/cavalo1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S5fvXzIUYnI/AAAAAAAAC2I/ysrLgRH3mYM/s320/cavalo1.jpg" vt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;o toque das estrelas a luz do luar &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;suave como brisa num leve tocar &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;respeito ardente revela teu ser &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;na vontade louca de perto de ti estar &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;pra tocar-te e como a estrelas te perceber &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e quem sabe um dia voltar &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a novamente transmutar meu ser &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;no simples ato de profundamente te admirar &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e em cada parte tua encontrar meu novo viver &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;reembelezando nosso altar &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e restaurar o que de nós veio nascer &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e cada ato que contigo faço muito mais quero tecer &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;em verbos ternos e opostos de vivenciar &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sou, ao teu lado, como que pedra negra a embranquecer &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;encadear cada merecer &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;num verso solto de prazer em te olhar &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e... quem então sem nem pensar, te obedecer... ...? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;em toques obedientes me transformo &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;em simples gestos sou, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;em teus braços mero viver &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;pra quê raciocinar quando somos &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;eu e ti...puro prazer ? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-2454808334647235138?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/2454808334647235138/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=2454808334647235138' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/2454808334647235138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/2454808334647235138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2010/05/eu-e-voce.html' title='Eu e Você'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S5fvXzIUYnI/AAAAAAAAC2I/ysrLgRH3mYM/s72-c/cavalo1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-6313238530106774402</id><published>2010-03-11T06:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T06:30:31.448-08:00</updated><title type='text'>POEMA ONIPRESENTE</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S5j9fuJysjI/AAAAAAAAC2o/K8rgmQLUlG4/s1600-h/poem.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S5j9fuJysjI/AAAAAAAAC2o/K8rgmQLUlG4/s200/poem.jpg" vt="true" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tenho pedaços de poemas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Por toda parte&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nos cantos da sala&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Atrás dos vidros transparentes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Embaixo da estante&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E quando olho pra cada gente&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;são poemas que vejo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pra cada alma um poema&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pra cada sorriso sem dor, um poema multicor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alma criança, poema de carrossel&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alma sedutora, poema cor de mel&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alma feliz, poema azul de nuvens&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alma sofredora, um poema antes que morra&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alma de segredo, poema vermelho de sangue e medo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Por toda parte , pra toda sorte&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tenho poemas pra cada lugar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lugares claros, poemas simples&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lugares calmos, poemas quietos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lugares largos, poemas cumpridos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lugares soltos, poemas curtos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A cada sentimento, amor, desejo, saudade&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A cada tempo, noite, dia, tempestade&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Por todo o sempre&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Há um poema pra guardar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Porque de pura poesia &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;é feita a minha vida&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sou verso que brilha &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a cada olhar....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-6313238530106774402?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/6313238530106774402/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=6313238530106774402' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/6313238530106774402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/6313238530106774402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2010/03/poema-onipresente.html' title='POEMA ONIPRESENTE'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S5j9fuJysjI/AAAAAAAAC2o/K8rgmQLUlG4/s72-c/poem.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-7081225737070621849</id><published>2010-03-11T06:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T06:20:08.771-08:00</updated><title type='text'>És um poema</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S5j7yT8so3I/AAAAAAAAC2Y/UdTXs2EsZzg/s1600-h/sol3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S5j7yT8so3I/AAAAAAAAC2Y/UdTXs2EsZzg/s320/sol3.jpg" vt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;És um poema &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quando sorris, alarga-te a boca &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Brilha teus olhos &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Engasgando a voz &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;És um poema &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quando estendes a mão &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tocas na minha, enlaças meus dedos &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Com o suor dos teus &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;És um poema &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quando olhas minhas vestes &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Contornando minhas curvas &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Com teu olhar sedento de mim &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;És um poema &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quando esqueces as frases &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Por causa de um sorriso meu &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quando pensamos juntos &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Coisas tolas de atos ateus &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;És um poema &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Em preto e branco &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mesmo que seja claro e límpido alvorecer &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mesmo que haja cores no céu a esvanecer &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;São raras as horas do dia a morrer &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;És um poema &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que canto e declamo &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Em versos curtos de estrofes limitadas &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Palavras e falas que não contém &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tanto sentimento que a alma quer guardar &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;És um poema &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E eu aqui escrevo versos &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sou poetisa e te faço em laços &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que retiro de minhas lembranças a comemorar &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;És meu poema e pra ti eu queria ser &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A poetisa a te recriar &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Porque assim serias meu, mesmo que a sonhar &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E eu te inventaria a cada instante &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E te faria meu eterno amante &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Em meu colo terno &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Para enfim... te amar...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-7081225737070621849?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/7081225737070621849/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=7081225737070621849' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/7081225737070621849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/7081225737070621849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2010/03/es-um-poema.html' title='És um poema'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S5j7yT8so3I/AAAAAAAAC2Y/UdTXs2EsZzg/s72-c/sol3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-7109427705447078823</id><published>2010-03-10T11:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T11:06:48.375-08:00</updated><title type='text'>CONFISSÃO</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S5ftqUI_fyI/AAAAAAAAC14/dKAB4kWe4mM/s1600-h/mulher55.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S5ftqUI_fyI/AAAAAAAAC14/dKAB4kWe4mM/s320/mulher55.jpg" vt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Não quero te mostrar &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Minha face torta &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Minha mente morta &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;e tantos pedaços dilacerados do passado &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Não quero que notes &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Meus&amp;nbsp;tantos segredos &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;O quanto escondo meus medos &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quero que penses que sou luz &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E que te esqueças que mesmo a luz &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;pode também conter a escuridão &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;No fundo sou apenas um coração &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que não mais quer carne, sangue, corpo e lágrimas &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quero ser muito mais do que isso &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tornar-me um novo ser &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Transcender... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Também não desejo mais pensar &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;que apenas a tua existência me fará feliz &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;pois que&amp;nbsp;eu já existia antes de ti &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;também permanecerei depois que te fores &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Quero ser um ser completo &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Aprender a ser feliz no momento agora &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;livrar me deste apego que me faz escrava de teu toque &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sou alma pura e branca &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sou luz que irradia pureza em poros&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tenho amor maior para doar e guiar &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;é&amp;nbsp;assim que tenho que ser &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Se estiveres em meu caminho, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Serei simples, amorosa, esperançosa, alegre &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Se não estiveres, o horizonte e a paisagem serão meu norte &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Porque muito mais do que amor a ti &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Eu tenho amor a vida, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;esta é minha sorte...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-7109427705447078823?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/7109427705447078823/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=7109427705447078823' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/7109427705447078823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/7109427705447078823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2010/03/confissao.html' title='CONFISSÃO'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S5ftqUI_fyI/AAAAAAAAC14/dKAB4kWe4mM/s72-c/mulher55.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-8274241282356515126</id><published>2010-02-18T08:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T08:58:52.435-08:00</updated><title type='text'>O AMOR CHEGOU</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S31xq25CKgI/AAAAAAAAC1s/swaE9LM4Zq0/s1600-h/laco1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ct="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S31xq25CKgI/AAAAAAAAC1s/swaE9LM4Zq0/s320/laco1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A cor se recorta&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A dor se decora&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A flor se desflora&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A dobra se desdobra&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E nada mais está em seu lugar...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;O amor chegou pra tudo desarrumar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Um novo ciclo esta a começar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Novos horários&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Novo tempo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Novos sorrisos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mais sentimentos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E cá está minha alma inquieta&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pra tudo assistir e continuar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-8274241282356515126?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/8274241282356515126/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=8274241282356515126' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/8274241282356515126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/8274241282356515126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2010/02/o-amor-chegou.html' title='O AMOR CHEGOU'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S31xq25CKgI/AAAAAAAAC1s/swaE9LM4Zq0/s72-c/laco1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-7262574524480994573</id><published>2010-02-04T11:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T11:29:26.244-08:00</updated><title type='text'>PIPOCAS</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S2sgCduyiMI/AAAAAAAAC1c/T5ZUCBYS0lw/s1600-h/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S2sgCduyiMI/AAAAAAAAC1c/T5ZUCBYS0lw/s320/images.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Eu quero roubar os poemas do mundo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Vou saltar janelas&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pra assaltar as flores&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E compor com elas&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ramalhetes de amores&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E fazer um poema &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;De pétalas coloridas&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pra esquecer dessa gente que luta, dessa gente sofrida&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Eu quero roubar os poemas do mundo&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Furtiva, escondida, devagarinho&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chego logo de mansinho&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;No silêncio da alvorada&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fico até de madrugada&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Espiando quem se ama&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pra roubar seus sussurros, seus urros&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Cair os muros&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E construir em cenas vibrantes&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Historias de ouro dos amantes&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Eu quero roubar os poemas do mundo&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Porque cada poeta vem aqui e conta&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Conta pedaços de minha alma&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E eu nervoso grito ...ei poeta, como pode isso ?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ele responde: calma !&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Eu quero roubar os poetas do mundo&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pra coloca-los dentro de mim&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Porque cada poeta é fruta madura&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ou coisa assim&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Eu quero entrar no coração de cada poeta&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Invadir, pilhar, catar tudo e depois sorrir&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas na minha vida não tem espaço pra tanta poesia&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Porque os poetas são loucos&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Desvairados&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E eu, aqui, no meio da praça&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;sou apenas um vendedor de pipocas&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Que vive a olhar as moças de rabo de olho&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Apaixonado...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-7262574524480994573?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/7262574524480994573/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=7262574524480994573' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/7262574524480994573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/7262574524480994573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2010/02/pipocas.html' title='PIPOCAS'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S2sgCduyiMI/AAAAAAAAC1c/T5ZUCBYS0lw/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-7278935690757125947</id><published>2010-01-26T03:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T03:09:48.612-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S17NZFEXOQI/AAAAAAAAC1U/sZgUbSbbLxQ/s1600-h/cigarro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S17NZFEXOQI/AAAAAAAAC1U/sZgUbSbbLxQ/s200/cigarro.jpg" width="160" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;QUANDO VISITEI CLARICE...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fui visitar a poetisa&lt;br /&gt;encontrei muitas folhas&lt;br /&gt;espalhadas pelo chão&lt;br /&gt;letras, escritos, desde a janela até o portão&lt;br /&gt;havia poesia até mesmo no colchão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coisas profundas de sentimento e angústia&lt;br /&gt;névoa, fumaça, recortes em gavetas submersas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reconheci ali um ser humano&lt;br /&gt;cheio de medo do frio&lt;br /&gt;que criara um mundo novo&lt;br /&gt;pra poder ainda ter esperanças&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ela mesma confessara&lt;br /&gt;o quanto os versos resgataram sua alma&lt;br /&gt;e declarou que sem os escritos estivera morta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ou vi atento, assisti enlevado&lt;br /&gt;a tanta beleva que brotava solta&lt;br /&gt;do fundo de sua alma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tanta simplicidade pra dizer o que todos sentem&lt;br /&gt;tantas noites tristes ao som da fumaça de um cigarro&lt;br /&gt;tantas coisas guardadas no mais profundo, fundo, de um armário&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-7278935690757125947?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/7278935690757125947/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=7278935690757125947' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/7278935690757125947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/7278935690757125947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2010/01/quando-visitei-clarice.html' title=''/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S17NZFEXOQI/AAAAAAAAC1U/sZgUbSbbLxQ/s72-c/cigarro.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-3306866752055721833</id><published>2010-01-19T08:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T08:38:06.053-08:00</updated><title type='text'>O QUE SOU</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S1Xfx2YA_DI/AAAAAAAAC1M/-MKX6knbRoQ/s1600-h/heart" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S1Xfx2YA_DI/AAAAAAAAC1M/-MKX6knbRoQ/s200/heart" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Palavras inconsequentes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;sons estridentes&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;e eu sou a raiva &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;por minutos&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;mas sou...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Atos indiferentes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;cenas mornas&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;pensamentos tortos&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;eu sou ciumes &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;por instantes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;mas sou...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Adeus, saudades, distância&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;palavras curtas pra &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;sentimentos longos&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;eu sou a dor &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;que se prolonga&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;mas sou...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tristeza, ódio, decepção&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;é oco o coração&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;eu sou emoção &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;mas sou&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Há tantos fatos, atos, lados&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;eu sou tudo e tanto o que já passou&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;que restou algo óbvio&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;e&amp;nbsp;o que ficou&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;é que me dá forças pra continuar&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;a sentir e vivenciar&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;só sei&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;que já nem sei mais o que sentir&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;porque realmente&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;o que me resta é o que sou&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;indefinidamente&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;sou algo simples&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;SOU AMOR&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Já que sou, só me resta então a sina de vive-lo...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-3306866752055721833?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/3306866752055721833/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=3306866752055721833' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/3306866752055721833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/3306866752055721833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2010/01/o-que-sou.html' title='O QUE SOU'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S1Xfx2YA_DI/AAAAAAAAC1M/-MKX6knbRoQ/s72-c/heart' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-2457535525555924785</id><published>2009-12-21T18:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T18:08:35.506-08:00</updated><title type='text'>PAGINAS VAZIAS</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SzApxwrwL-I/AAAAAAAACFg/775FiNORKHI/s1600-h/Inverno.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SzApxwrwL-I/AAAAAAAACFg/775FiNORKHI/s320/Inverno.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;PAGINAS VAZIAS&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;A pagina é branca&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E eu nada escrevi&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;A pagina é um rascunho&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E eu apenas rabisquei a intenção&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E cada gesto meu define o que vem depois&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Então decidi&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Parar de viver&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Porque entendi que o agora é o fruto&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Da semente que um dia caiu por acaso&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Então parei de escrever &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E passei a amassar os papéis e jogar no vaso&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Entulhei tantas folhas que juntaram soltas&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E se transformaram num alto e grande rascunho&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mas não tinha jeito, nada mais era desfeito&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Porque as paginas estavam sujas e feias&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ah...Se fossem belas ainda as minhas paginas brancas&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Chorei menina em cima dos meus papéis&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E pensei quieta: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;“ pra que acordar se nem me vem inspiração ?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Agarrei meu vaso&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Enganei o acaso&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Limpei as folhas&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Amarelei todas elas&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;E descobri&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Que se escrevi tanto &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;é porque vivi...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Como Clarice, se não escrevo é porque morri....&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-2457535525555924785?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/2457535525555924785/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=2457535525555924785' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/2457535525555924785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/2457535525555924785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2009/12/paginas-vazias.html' title='PAGINAS VAZIAS'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SzApxwrwL-I/AAAAAAAACFg/775FiNORKHI/s72-c/Inverno.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-6696001623767065828</id><published>2009-12-21T18:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T11:20:05.609-08:00</updated><title type='text'>DESPEDIDA DO AMOR ETERNO</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S5fw15wZysI/AAAAAAAAC2Q/qngTD4h-DFI/s1600-h/despe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S5fw15wZysI/AAAAAAAAC2Q/qngTD4h-DFI/s320/despe.jpg" vt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não penses que é assim,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nem tudo se acabou porque seguiste teu rumo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E eu em outras paragens permaneço&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O que não sabes é que em mim mora a louca&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A desvairada, descarada e sem pudor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O que não sabes é de minhas artimanhas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De enganar e roubar eu bem sei&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E tudo faço arquitetando planos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cultivando desenganos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Com muito ardor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pois então achas que partindo em paz repousas enfim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Então te informo que nada - nada sabes a respeito de mim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pois se não posso te ter, sou ladra&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Roubo-te um beijo &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E levo comigo tudo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tudo o que vivi contigo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cada sorriso, cada palavra trocada ao vento&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cada dia, claridade...momento&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cada toque, cada sussurro...sentimento&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um olhar, mãos dadas...cada movimento&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tudo isso é meu e não podes retirar de mim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pois todo segundo que passei ao teu lado&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;É chama incontida de amor sem fim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E tanta chama é que vai consumir meu calor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pois sei que clamo pra aplacar tamanha dor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A dor de tua distância amado meu&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E mesmo que vás, cada instante vivido&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Será semente de devaneios doces&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E eu aqui permaneço&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Aquela que roubou te um beijo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e que vivo incessante a consumir&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;as lembranças tuas em meu ventre vermelho&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;aquele que quiseras tanto possuir&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E mesmo que te aches enfim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Solto, leve, sorridente e livre de mim &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pois sou passado&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mal sabes das lembranças mornas que cultivei &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A teu lado&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Se bem notares acima de teus passos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ali estou eu, como um fantasma que paira sobre ti&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De teu presente, sou teu passado&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De tuas asas, sou o teu alado&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Se não posso te ter, te deixo então&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Se tenho que te deixar é assim que te deixo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Deixo-te para sempre dentro de mim...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-6696001623767065828?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/6696001623767065828/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=6696001623767065828' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/6696001623767065828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/6696001623767065828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2009/12/despedida-do-amor-eterno-nao-penses-que.html' title='DESPEDIDA DO AMOR ETERNO'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/S5fw15wZysI/AAAAAAAAC2Q/qngTD4h-DFI/s72-c/despe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-2477363357812580434</id><published>2009-12-18T02:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-18T02:58:30.217-08:00</updated><title type='text'>SOZINHA</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SytfI3D6tKI/AAAAAAAAB7M/KPMUmT-fDoE/s1600-h/Mulher_luaNova.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SytfI3D6tKI/AAAAAAAAB7M/KPMUmT-fDoE/s320/Mulher_luaNova.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;SOZINHA&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Pintei minhas paredes&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Joguei quadros fora&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Quebrei armários velhos&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Rasguei papéis antigos&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Tudo pra tirar você de mim &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mudei os móveis de lugar&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Troquei horários, caminhos, vocabulários&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mudei cabelos, roupas, trapos soltos&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Parei de me arrastar e passei a caminhar&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Tudo pra tirar&amp;nbsp;você&amp;nbsp;de mim&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Parei de te olhar como um homem&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Parei de te olhar como um verme&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Parei de sentir vontade de você&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Tudo pra tirar você de mim&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mas mesmo que eu lixe as paredes&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mesmo que eu troque as fechaduras&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Portas, comportas&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Algo no fundo do quarto&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Ainda vai conter o teu nome&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;É quando eu desvio o caminho&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;E vou pro canto da sala arrumar as cortinas&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;É quando eu vejo a paisagem de outra forma&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mas é tudo ilusão pura&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Porque já tirei você de mim&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;E sobrou pouco pra contar depois&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Porque já não tenho mais tantos móveis&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Nem armários, nem cantinhos, nem salários&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Moro numa casa vazia, &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Porque já tirei você de mim&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sorrio mais, me encanta tudo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;E viro cambalhotas no meio da sala&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Afinal, só eu mesma vivo ali !&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;E a casa outrora sombria &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Transformou-se em cabana de palha&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Onde o sol bate sorridente&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;E as frestas são feitas de sentimentos puros, &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;momentos e ternura, alegria e novos sorrisos&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span lang="PT-BR" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Desde que tirei você de mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-2477363357812580434?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/2477363357812580434/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=2477363357812580434' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/2477363357812580434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/2477363357812580434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2009/12/sozinha.html' title='SOZINHA'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SytfI3D6tKI/AAAAAAAAB7M/KPMUmT-fDoE/s72-c/Mulher_luaNova.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-7194407576484401883</id><published>2009-12-11T15:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T16:02:49.579-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ILUSÃO</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SyLdUzgW8nI/AAAAAAAAB7E/4-zOx3AOODI/s1600-h/amor+e+%C3%A1gua.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="284" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SyLdUzgW8nI/AAAAAAAAB7E/4-zOx3AOODI/s320/amor+e+%C3%A1gua.png" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sonho contigo&lt;br /&gt;com o que acho que tu és &lt;br /&gt;com o que encontro em ti &lt;br /&gt;e que já está dentro de mim&lt;br /&gt;mas...qual seria o teu mérito&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;se  “tal amor” já existia dentro de mim ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Irônica.. bato palmas !&lt;br /&gt;Dou parabéns ao acaso que te colocou a minha porta&lt;br /&gt;Dou parabéns às minhas mãos que te disseram : “Muito Prazer!”&lt;br /&gt;Dou parabéns ao meu olhar que se dirigiu a ti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo que nunca existisses &lt;br /&gt;Eu encontraria o amor por ai&lt;br /&gt;Pois  “tal amor”  já havia latente aqui &lt;br /&gt;Quieto e pulsante dentro de mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não penses ser o rei de minha vida e de meus pensamentos&lt;br /&gt;No fundo, a realidade é que &lt;br /&gt;És mero reflexo de meu sentir &lt;br /&gt;O tamanho que tens sou eu que te dou&lt;br /&gt;Te faço existir, te controlo, te recrio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;És papel amassado em folha de seda&lt;br /&gt;Rio, te invento, gargalho...&lt;br /&gt;Louca incontida&lt;br /&gt;Depois ...choro&lt;br /&gt;Meu amor se foi sem avisar &lt;br /&gt;Voava leve numa folha amassada&lt;br /&gt;Ao vento que passava pela janela da sala de estar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-7194407576484401883?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/7194407576484401883/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=7194407576484401883' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/7194407576484401883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/7194407576484401883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2009/12/ilusao-eu-sonho-contigo-com-o-que-acho.html' title='ILUSÃO'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SyLdUzgW8nI/AAAAAAAAB7E/4-zOx3AOODI/s72-c/amor+e+%C3%A1gua.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-1114822910368235997</id><published>2009-11-19T09:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T09:01:33.881-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Amor de Paz</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SwV5zYbPt-I/AAAAAAAAB6c/89yX8U9dk-E/s1600/bb9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SwV5zYbPt-I/AAAAAAAAB6c/89yX8U9dk-E/s400/bb9.jpg" yr="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minha energia branca&lt;br /&gt;Chegou pra te iluminar com paz&lt;br /&gt;Paz de sorrisos&lt;br /&gt;De café da manhã de domingo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paz de abraços largos&lt;br /&gt;De peito aberto&lt;br /&gt;E coração quente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dizes diz que te faço bem&lt;br /&gt;Que te trago paz&lt;br /&gt;Que sou branca &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E branca eu quero ser&lt;br /&gt;Pois o branco contém todas as cores&lt;br /&gt;E quero ser todas as cores pra ti&lt;br /&gt;E pintas em meu corpo&lt;br /&gt;Cores diversas a cada hora &lt;br /&gt;com teu toque que me enleva a alma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Horas de novidade, de luz e cor&lt;br /&gt;Horas de saciedade, alegria e amor&lt;br /&gt;E quero ser pra ti&lt;br /&gt;A&amp;nbsp;mais larga janela da madrugada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pra assistir teu acordar sonolento&lt;br /&gt;E ver que a lua te banha os olhos&lt;br /&gt;Da mais plena e calma felicidade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero-te bem&lt;br /&gt;Quero teu bem&lt;br /&gt;Quero ser teu bem&lt;br /&gt;E fazer-te bem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E só o bem é o que existirá&lt;br /&gt;Num conjunto de cores diáfanas&lt;br /&gt;Onde amores de fundem no teu sexo&lt;br /&gt;E se acalmam depois,&lt;br /&gt;para ser o branco que reluz no meu&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-1114822910368235997?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/1114822910368235997/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=1114822910368235997' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/1114822910368235997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/1114822910368235997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2009/11/amor-de-paz.html' title='Amor de Paz'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SwV5zYbPt-I/AAAAAAAAB6c/89yX8U9dk-E/s72-c/bb9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-2305248445260438770</id><published>2009-11-05T10:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T10:24:03.826-08:00</updated><title type='text'>PONTES</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SvMYEGFpSdI/AAAAAAAAB6U/4PcxPTUfHNs/s1600-h/humber_bridge_shot1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SvMYEGFpSdI/AAAAAAAAB6U/4PcxPTUfHNs/s320/humber_bridge_shot1.jpg" vr="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Eu quero uma ponte&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;nem longa, nem comprida&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;nem fraca, nem sofrida&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;nem seca, nem suada&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;eu quero uma ponte e mais nada&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Porque a ponte vai me levar até você&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;e eu não preciso ficar aqui morta a te esperar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;porque a ponte vai trazer você pra mim&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;e você não precisa em outros atalhos&amp;nbsp;me procurar&amp;nbsp;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A&amp;nbsp;ponte será&amp;nbsp;nossa amiga de tantos encontros&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;mesmo que haja vento, tempestade&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;rio bravo, neblina e solidão&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;a ponte amiga vai sempre ligar &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;além de dois lugares&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;você a mim - eu a ti&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E&amp;nbsp;num encontro ansioso &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;nossas mãos dadas serão mais pontes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;nossas bocas coladas serão como pontes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;nossos corpos suados cheios de pontes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;nossos líquidos trocados correm entre pontes &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Porque ponte sem ninguém pra atravessar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;pra nada serve, não tem razão de existir&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;a ponte tem que ligar lugares, pessoas,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;sentimentos e coisas&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;senão é concreto vazio pairando no caminho&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;que vai do nada para lugar algum&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Agora tenho você, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;e você tem a mim&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;e há um só caminho entre nós...a ponte&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;e meu nada sabe que enfim &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;chegamos sendentos a um lugar comum&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-2305248445260438770?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/2305248445260438770/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=2305248445260438770' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/2305248445260438770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/2305248445260438770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2009/11/pontes.html' title='PONTES'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SvMYEGFpSdI/AAAAAAAAB6U/4PcxPTUfHNs/s72-c/humber_bridge_shot1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-128218507179149450</id><published>2009-10-27T11:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T11:23:57.274-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DEVANEIOS</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/Suc6oZJJOnI/AAAAAAAAB6M/h5CSChtlDGQ/s1600-h/thanks2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/Suc6oZJJOnI/AAAAAAAAB6M/h5CSChtlDGQ/s320/thanks2.jpg" vr="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pare de analisar tanto tudo &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E nem tente adivinhar &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O porque de meus versos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu posso estar em puro devaneio&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E nada disso ser realidade&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nem mesmo eu, que sou poeta sei ao certo - por que vivo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quando mais quem me lê pra entender&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quer saber ? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu rio solto de tudo isso&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não tenho pudor, nem caras &amp;amp; bocas pra esconder&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Apenas me fascina a rara arte de viver&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Enquanto tantos vivem a rotina de todas as horas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cada hora pra mim é poesia &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Versos puros que encontro a cada sorriso&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A cada vida que encontro aqui e ali&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Perambulando&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Por histórias de cada um&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que tenho prazer em contar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Observo quieta seus movimentos inconscientes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que desembocam no final de cada linha&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E eles nem sabem&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que registro tanto e tudo&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que sorrio muito &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pra depois deitar num canto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E escrever e escrever&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Depois que escrevo &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me vem o cansaço morno&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E adormeço feliz&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Entre estes versos e histórias&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De gente linda que acabei de encontrar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Num outro dia, desperta,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Agradeço ao sol&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pela poesia de cada pessoa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que sempre vem me procurar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-128218507179149450?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/128218507179149450/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=128218507179149450' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/128218507179149450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/128218507179149450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2009/10/devaneios.html' title='DEVANEIOS'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/Suc6oZJJOnI/AAAAAAAAB6M/h5CSChtlDGQ/s72-c/thanks2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-780629433302415253</id><published>2009-10-26T09:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T09:03:12.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O DIA QUE SE DESCOBRIU POETISA</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SuXIIp00oaI/AAAAAAAAB6E/CsZBAqOCJ0U/s1600-h/feliz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SuXIIp00oaI/AAAAAAAAB6E/CsZBAqOCJ0U/s320/feliz.jpg" vr="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guardara em gavetas trancadas&lt;br /&gt;tantos escritos e folhas soltas&lt;br /&gt;mais cadernos de capa delicada&lt;br /&gt;com inúmeros versos e poesias&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tantas palavras que escrevera&lt;br /&gt;e sentimentos que vivera&lt;br /&gt;tantas lágrimas, olhares, enganos&lt;br /&gt;junto com abraços, calados, medonhos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;muitos sorrisos, vôos pela imensidão&lt;br /&gt;muita água de estrelas, de coração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tanta coisa estivera ali mantida&lt;br /&gt;que uma hora, não deu mais o espaço &lt;br /&gt;transbordou&lt;br /&gt;um dia, a poesia cansada &lt;br /&gt;de ser guardada, prensada,&lt;br /&gt;gritou !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Involuntariamente, ela saiu a cuspir poemas por ai&lt;br /&gt;Começou a falar, a mostrar, publicar, &lt;br /&gt;Mesmo quem nada entendia teve que calar&lt;br /&gt;e agora, ali estava ela, nua e sem pelos, &lt;br /&gt;a mostrar o que sentiu e o que era aquele novo ser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pergunte às gavetas elas vão confessar&lt;br /&gt;que empurraram forte as poesias e sentimentos pra fora&lt;br /&gt;pois não mais agüentavam guardar tanta euforia&lt;br /&gt;e depois foram embora&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje em dia, basta olhar que você vai ver&lt;br /&gt;as gavetas que vagam vazias e soltas por ai&lt;br /&gt;elas ainda acompanham um pouco&lt;br /&gt;quando a observam pelas frestas das portas a se divertir&lt;br /&gt;elas sorriem, cúmplices de tantos segredos &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto ela anda pelada, &lt;br /&gt;mostrando os escritos que não mais são só seus&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-780629433302415253?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/780629433302415253/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=780629433302415253' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/780629433302415253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/780629433302415253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2009/10/o-dia-que-se-descobriu-poetisa.html' title='O DIA QUE SE DESCOBRIU POETISA'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SuXIIp00oaI/AAAAAAAAB6E/CsZBAqOCJ0U/s72-c/feliz.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-1310790267077307671</id><published>2009-10-20T09:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T09:27:58.613-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/St3kflYFtdI/AAAAAAAAB58/HJmc3eQ3IHM/s1600-h/livro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/St3kflYFtdI/AAAAAAAAB58/HJmc3eQ3IHM/s320/livro.jpg" vr="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.camarabrasileira.com/quem09-020.htm"&gt;Meu Conto "O Dia D" foi publicado na Antologia QUEM, leia !!!!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-1310790267077307671?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/1310790267077307671/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=1310790267077307671' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/1310790267077307671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/1310790267077307671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2009/10/conto-pulicado-na-antologia-quem.html' title=''/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/St3kflYFtdI/AAAAAAAAB58/HJmc3eQ3IHM/s72-c/livro.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-1452600646087982623</id><published>2009-10-12T18:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T18:25:29.511-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ESPERA PASSIONAL</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/StPW3jB56lI/AAAAAAAAB5o/Ni-IG7idf-o/s1600-h/pordesol.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391889428676995666" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/StPW3jB56lI/AAAAAAAAB5o/Ni-IG7idf-o/s200/pordesol.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A espera angustiante&lt;br /&gt;A tortura ansiosa&lt;br /&gt;Dilacera minha alma aos poucos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E os pedaços que se soltam de mim&lt;br /&gt;Pensam por si, desta forma&lt;br /&gt;Uma parte, que te quer, diz assim:&lt;br /&gt;- Quando vou te ver ?&lt;br /&gt;- Sentir teu ar, tua voz, tuas mãos?&lt;br /&gt;- Olhar te ao menos de longe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A outra parte, ansiosa e calma, discursa assim :&lt;br /&gt;- Tua existência já me basta&lt;br /&gt;- Só por saber que você está ali, sou feliz por você existir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ser dilacerado, vagando entre minhas partes é o que sou;&lt;br /&gt;Sou egoísta quando te quero tanto pra mim&lt;br /&gt;Sou fraterna quando te deixo existir&lt;br /&gt;Estas partes em que você me quebrou&lt;br /&gt;Confundem-me tanto a alma&lt;br /&gt;E a cada noite, um pedaço meu some perdido na escuridão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apesar dessa angústia entre-partes&lt;br /&gt;Não é só isso que me alimenta a alma&lt;br /&gt;Possuo ainda a esperança de ter você novamente&lt;br /&gt;És um vício que alimento calada&lt;br /&gt;E&lt;br /&gt;Sem te dizer nada&lt;br /&gt;Vou seguindo hipócrita, fingindo sorrisos&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto que, por dentro sou pó e terra batida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A doença de querer quem não nos ama&lt;br /&gt;Nos leva a loucura sem saber&lt;br /&gt;Entorta a pele, enruga o rosto, é feiúra de se ver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bonito é o sorriso que te faço&lt;br /&gt;Quando você chega faceiro&lt;br /&gt;Menino do bairro, ligeiro&lt;br /&gt;E finge me querer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aí sim...eu me junto num só pedaço&lt;br /&gt;Sou todinha pra você&lt;br /&gt;É assim eu te quero também&lt;br /&gt;Nem que seja só por um momento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ès a doença que cultivo ardendo em chama&lt;br /&gt;Que me faz tola, insensata, sem caminhos&lt;br /&gt;Sou feita de pedaços que junto aos poucos&lt;br /&gt;A cada mísero beijo teu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minha prece silenciosa ao céu, já fiz.&lt;br /&gt;Já pedi às estrelas pra te contarem&lt;br /&gt;já sussurrei à lua, mas quem sabe ?&lt;br /&gt;quantos pedidos a lua já deve ter em sua caixa postal ?&lt;br /&gt;estou na fila dos amantes dilacerados de tanto querer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um dia, quem sabe, você note&lt;br /&gt;A poeta que te olha tanto&lt;br /&gt;E que os sorrisos delas são só pra você...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-1452600646087982623?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/1452600646087982623/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=1452600646087982623' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/1452600646087982623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/1452600646087982623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2009/10/espera-passional.html' title='ESPERA PASSIONAL'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/StPW3jB56lI/AAAAAAAAB5o/Ni-IG7idf-o/s72-c/pordesol.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-564175200340303587</id><published>2009-10-05T09:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T09:36:15.606-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DO POETA PARA A POESIA</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SsofFWvn1KI/AAAAAAAAB08/pcHxtQ7m_4Y/s1600-h/sonho4.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389154080967349410" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SsofFWvn1KI/AAAAAAAAB08/pcHxtQ7m_4Y/s200/sonho4.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Reli os escritos que fiz &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Enquanto estivestes comigo &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ali estava eu, descrito &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;em várias folhas amassadas &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Confesso: odiei cada palavra ! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tanto apego, dor, ciúme, covardia, fuga, medo &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Depois reli todas as letras que fizeste para mim &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Enquanto estive em teus braços &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Amei cada som, cada silaba, cada palavra &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Então percebi que &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;mesmo provocando muita coisa em mim &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Realizaste tanta coisa em ti &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sorri, feliz, nada fora em vão&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;pois enfim minha dor te serviu pra muita coisa &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pra cada dor e apego meu &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Escreveste um verso &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pra cada grito, ciúme e covardia minha &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Escreveste uma prosa &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pra cada fuga e medo meu &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Escreveste um poema &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Percebi que tantos sentimentos &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eram fantasmas que criei pra me proteger de ti &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saturado de tanto entender &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Soltei me de tantas amarras &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e fui voar contigo &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Notei que com você &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a vida significa muito mais &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do que meros sentimentos guardados &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tudo era então poema, prosa, verso, fantasia &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mesmo sentindo tantos ares diferentes &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Agora tenho certeza &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;de que é a teu lado que eu quero estar &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ah...poesia que faz de minha alma pagã &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um dia a mais... um verso a mais &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um novo sol ...um novo poema &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De pássaro preso tornei-me balão ao vento &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;De mero calendário tornei-me enfim sentimento &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Agora sim... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;tudo possui um novo brilho &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;um novo significado...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-564175200340303587?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/564175200340303587/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=564175200340303587' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/564175200340303587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/564175200340303587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2009/10/do-poeta-para-poesia.html' title='DO POETA PARA A POESIA'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SsofFWvn1KI/AAAAAAAAB08/pcHxtQ7m_4Y/s72-c/sonho4.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-1015643821059856732</id><published>2009-08-25T06:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T07:16:11.128-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PARTES</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SpPx0XsR09I/AAAAAAAAB0U/mNJBC0hhM3Q/s1600-h/bb10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373904662398358482" style="WIDTH: 124px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 112px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SpPx0XsR09I/AAAAAAAAB0U/mNJBC0hhM3Q/s200/bb10.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PARTES&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O que é um sorriso, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sem o rosto ?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O que é um beijo, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sem o gosto ?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O que é o poeta, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sem uma caneta ?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O que é um verso, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sem um papel ?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O que é um amor, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sem saudade ?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O que é um bêbado, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sem uma canção triste ?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O que é um coito, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sem cansaço ?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O que é um desejo, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sem sede ?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O que é a claridade, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sem uma janela pra entrar ?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O que é o por de sol, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sem alguém pra admirar ?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Para cada coisa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Existe a sua parte&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que não é a coisa, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mas faz parte&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O que sou eu &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sem você ?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Metade de mim&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que existe sem sentido&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vagando solta...sem porquê&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-1015643821059856732?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/1015643821059856732/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=1015643821059856732' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/1015643821059856732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/1015643821059856732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2009/08/partes.html' title='PARTES'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SpPx0XsR09I/AAAAAAAAB0U/mNJBC0hhM3Q/s72-c/bb10.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-4518288906470738180</id><published>2009-08-24T11:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T11:33:40.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Axioma</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SpLc8-sc97I/AAAAAAAAB0M/iGzNBlIWmdk/s1600-h/bb7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373600245586130866" style="WIDTH: 113px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 116px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SpLc8-sc97I/AAAAAAAAB0M/iGzNBlIWmdk/s200/bb7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;AXIOMA&lt;br /&gt;do Lat. axioma + Gr. axíoma, opinião, dogma s. m., proposição evidente; proposição que não carece de demonstração; máxima; sentença.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vivi todos os meus amores&lt;br /&gt;Intensamente...&lt;br /&gt;Vou lembrar de seus sorrisos&lt;br /&gt;Eternamente...&lt;br /&gt;Vou amá-los dentro de mim&lt;br /&gt;Incessantemente...&lt;br /&gt;E procurá-los em outros amores&lt;br /&gt;Incansavelmente...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que escrevo são fatos&lt;br /&gt;Que desembocam em advérbios&lt;br /&gt;Verdades inteiras,&lt;br /&gt;Profundas&lt;br /&gt;e&lt;br /&gt;Cicatrizadas&lt;br /&gt;Em meu corpo nú&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pincel de tintas de minha alma&lt;br /&gt;Aquarela de que sou feita&lt;br /&gt;Feita de&lt;br /&gt;Amores&lt;br /&gt;Fatos&lt;br /&gt;E advérbios raros..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somos todos ao final de cada história&lt;br /&gt;Um amontoado de Adjetivos claros&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-4518288906470738180?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/4518288906470738180/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=4518288906470738180' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/4518288906470738180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/4518288906470738180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2009/08/axioma.html' title='Axioma'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SpLc8-sc97I/AAAAAAAAB0M/iGzNBlIWmdk/s72-c/bb7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-830727993279804505</id><published>2009-08-19T11:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T11:24:50.881-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ser Humana</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SoxDXD-K5sI/AAAAAAAABz8/Up_Pebbfp-4/s1600-h/pedra.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371742519028278978" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SoxDXD-K5sI/AAAAAAAABz8/Up_Pebbfp-4/s200/pedra.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ser Humana&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Invejo a pedra&lt;br /&gt;Queria ser como ela&lt;br /&gt;Ser pedra é ser dura, estática, fria&lt;br /&gt;Ser pedra é ser forte&lt;br /&gt;Ser pedra é não ter o norte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Invejo a tolice&lt;br /&gt;Queria ser como os tolos&lt;br /&gt;Porque os tolos não leram livros&lt;br /&gt;E nem não procuram respostas&lt;br /&gt;E eu...que nada sei, se ainda procuro,&lt;br /&gt;É porque nada sei mesmo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Invejo a malícia&lt;br /&gt;Pois assim saberia lidar com a maldade alheia&lt;br /&gt;Sorrindo sarcástica a cada traição&lt;br /&gt;Não mais iria me decepcionar,&lt;br /&gt;Nem esperar, nem acreditar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Invejo a insensatez&lt;br /&gt;E confesso : queria não mais ser tão sábia&lt;br /&gt;Pra parar de desconfiar, questionar, argumentar&lt;br /&gt;Porque apesar de tão sábia com os problemas dos outros&lt;br /&gt;Sou ingênua e ineficaz com meus próprios terrores&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Invejo a pedra&lt;br /&gt;Queria ser como ela&lt;br /&gt;Ser pedra é ser dura, estática, fria&lt;br /&gt;Ser pedra é ser forte&lt;br /&gt;A pedra não tem o corte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas o que temos nós os humanos de pedra ?&lt;br /&gt;Se somos duros, frios, estáticos e fortes ?&lt;br /&gt;Somos meros verbos a conjugar incessante a vida&lt;br /&gt;Que se descortina nua e crua&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No fundo, somos todos humanos&lt;br /&gt;Nada temos de pedra&lt;br /&gt;Somos fracos, perdidos em cada caminho&lt;br /&gt;Esperando alguém tropeçar em nós&lt;br /&gt;E dizer...ei acorda !!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No fundo somos todos tolos&lt;br /&gt;pensando que somos sábios&lt;br /&gt;No fundo estamos no fundo&lt;br /&gt;E somente quando acreditamos em algo&lt;br /&gt;É que nos vem o oxigênio&lt;br /&gt;pra subir a tona e novamente respirar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No fundo somos sonhadores,&lt;br /&gt;Que acreditam no sonho bom&lt;br /&gt;E não querem do bom nunca mais acordar....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Invejo a pedra&lt;br /&gt;Queria ser como ela&lt;br /&gt;Ser pedra é ser dura, estática, fria&lt;br /&gt;Ser pedra é ser forte&lt;br /&gt;Mas eu tenho a morte,&lt;br /&gt;à pedra já não cabe o morrer&lt;/strong&gt;...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-830727993279804505?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/830727993279804505/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=830727993279804505' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/830727993279804505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/830727993279804505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2009/08/ser-humana.html' title='Ser Humana'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SoxDXD-K5sI/AAAAAAAABz8/Up_Pebbfp-4/s72-c/pedra.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-252961305499841993</id><published>2009-08-12T12:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T11:20:06.844-07:00</updated><title type='text'>AMOR DE POETA</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SoRTfN9d7cI/AAAAAAAABzs/nRVkgSYRK9Y/s1600-h/voar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369508451520998850" style="WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 141px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SoRTfN9d7cI/AAAAAAAABzs/nRVkgSYRK9Y/s200/voar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;AMOR DE POETA &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu quero um amor de poeta &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Porque poeta quando ama &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Se esquece da hora &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nunca mais vai embora &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Se é chuva lá fora &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;É luar aqui dentro &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu quero uma lua dentro do quarto &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Que a lua engrandeça as paredes &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E quebre o concreto, transpasse o tempo &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E rasgue portas, faça voar notas &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E deixe passar o vento &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu quero um luar dentro de mim &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Com luz clara onde era antes escuridão &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Com ar afoito onde bate um coração &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Com cheiro de grama molhada &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E liberdade alada pra rodopiar por nada &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E dentro de mim vou misturar tudo &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Amor de poeta, sem hora &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Algo doce que escorre no peito, chuva lá fora &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Roupa molhada ao corpo colada &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Transparecendo os peitos &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lua no quarto, num só ato &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quarto sem portas &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nem paredes nem coisas mortas &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Porque sou menina, sou criança, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sou a mulher que dança &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Giro solta pro poeta &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pra que o poeta se encante &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e me ame sempre e cada vez mais... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-252961305499841993?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/252961305499841993/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=252961305499841993' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/252961305499841993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/252961305499841993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2009/08/amor-de-poeta-eu-quero-um-amor-de-poeta.html' title='AMOR DE POETA'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SoRTfN9d7cI/AAAAAAAABzs/nRVkgSYRK9Y/s72-c/voar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-4945231683730115642</id><published>2009-08-10T06:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T11:20:58.712-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ABRIGO</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SoAeRvdROeI/AAAAAAAABzk/9xP4ypReI1c/s1600-h/corpos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368324045971470818" style="WIDTH: 101px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 121px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SoAeRvdROeI/AAAAAAAABzk/9xP4ypReI1c/s200/corpos.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;ABRIGO &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E então, fez se o encanto &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Toquei teu corpo &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tua alma veio a tona &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Encantados éramos &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Eu e ti &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Em desespero, rancando os trapos &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Éramos gozo, beijos, toques e cansaço &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E depois, que se desfez o laço &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Acordei inquieta com teu corpo quente ao meu redor &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E senti me pequena diante de tanto sentimento &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Guardado desde a noite anterior &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E veio me o medo &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Medo de precisar de ti &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Medo de esquecer de mim &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E só lembrar de ti &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Medo de amar te tanto &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Que esqueceria a mim mesma &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Medo de sufocar-te até virares a mesa &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sai me arrastando da cama prazeirosa &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Guardei as roupas e silenciosa &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fugi de ti alucinada &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Queria que fosses página virada &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Aproveitei o silêncio da escura madrugada &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mas eis... que ouvistes meus passos próxima a porta &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Correstes calmo pra alcançar minha alma quase morta &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pegastes me no colo, num longo beijo &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;apertando me a ti em louco desejo &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dizias baixinho ao meu ouvido &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Não te vás, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fica comigo &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;preciso de ti...és meu abrigo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-4945231683730115642?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/4945231683730115642/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=4945231683730115642' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/4945231683730115642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/4945231683730115642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2009/08/abrigo-e-entao-fez-se-o-encanto-toquei.html' title='ABRIGO'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SoAeRvdROeI/AAAAAAAABzk/9xP4ypReI1c/s72-c/corpos.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-7255739223501239738</id><published>2009-08-07T05:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T05:07:09.097-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnwY3K6DTfI/AAAAAAAABzU/tGN7kxeJvg4/s1600-h/voar.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnwYWVFeqAI/AAAAAAAABzM/BWiOcDq_8qI/s1600-h/voar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367191627815102466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 141px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnwYWVFeqAI/AAAAAAAABzM/BWiOcDq_8qI/s200/voar.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnwYI2qO8OI/AAAAAAAABzE/JmP4mEbDAhY/s1600-h/voar.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ESCOLHAS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo a dor é sozinha&lt;br /&gt;Porque se escolhe a cada dia&lt;br /&gt;O passo que se dá&lt;br /&gt;E a incerteza de tropeçar&lt;br /&gt;Faz também parte do caminhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Até o sorriso é uma incerteza&lt;br /&gt;Porque se escolhe a cada dia&lt;br /&gt;Pra quem olhar&lt;br /&gt;Quando e como tocar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cada bafo de cansaço,&lt;br /&gt;Respiração ofegante&lt;br /&gt;Dor no corpo&lt;br /&gt;Coisa lancinante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não importa o que fizer&lt;br /&gt;Tudo terá seu próprio resultado&lt;br /&gt;E a culpa será apenas&lt;br /&gt;Por cada sorriso, dor ou escolha que se faz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todo viver é sozinho&lt;br /&gt;Toda respiração é única&lt;br /&gt;E é por isso que a cada dia&lt;br /&gt;Amantes se procuram sedentos&lt;br /&gt;Tentando esquecer o relento&lt;br /&gt;dos dias que se arrastam a cada viver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pois cada momento de ternura&lt;br /&gt;Apaga a sensação de loucura&lt;br /&gt;De responsabilidade e culpa&lt;br /&gt;Por cada passo que se deu no antes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E cada momento de compartilhar&lt;br /&gt;Traz a ilusão de que vale a pena ainda sonhar&lt;br /&gt;Cada momento de mãos entrelaçadas&lt;br /&gt;Transforma num minuto a tristeza em contos de fadas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amizade, companheirismo, seja lá o que isso for&lt;br /&gt;Tudo é parte do mais nobre sentimento: AMOR&lt;br /&gt;Amor que segura as mãos&lt;br /&gt;Amor que enlaça os corpos&lt;br /&gt;Amor que traz a alma algum alento&lt;br /&gt;Pros dias não serem tão sérios, sozinhos e iguais&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-7255739223501239738?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/7255739223501239738/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=7255739223501239738' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/7255739223501239738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/7255739223501239738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2009/08/escolhas-mesmo-dor-e-sozinha-porque-se.html' title=''/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnwYWVFeqAI/AAAAAAAABzM/BWiOcDq_8qI/s72-c/voar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8084289789734296282.post-8397049225725868120</id><published>2009-08-05T11:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T05:11:40.489-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Renascimento</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnwZ7SnVcdI/AAAAAAAABzc/z3LaCg72bOY/s1600-h/images2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367193362318586322" style="WIDTH: 135px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 89px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnwZ7SnVcdI/AAAAAAAABzc/z3LaCg72bOY/s200/images2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Qual por do sol&lt;br /&gt;Renascem em mim cores fartas&lt;br /&gt;Matizes soltos&lt;br /&gt;Em colorida confusão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E eles, mudos;&lt;br /&gt;Cheios de silêncio&lt;br /&gt;Assistem pasmos à transformação&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qual areia&lt;br /&gt;O amor esvaiu-se por minhas mãos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qual aguardente&lt;br /&gt;Sua falta ainda queima em meu corpo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qual ar rarefeito&lt;br /&gt;Procuro-te em todos os vãos&lt;br /&gt;e&lt;br /&gt;Sem encontrar&lt;br /&gt;Chego exausta à superfície&lt;br /&gt;E enfim...&lt;br /&gt;Respiro profundamente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Logo ali, à beira do rio calmo;&lt;br /&gt;Jazia agora a morta nua&lt;br /&gt;Mais à frente,&lt;br /&gt;Na paisagem multicor&lt;br /&gt;Renascia um novo ser&lt;br /&gt;Tudo ainda estava por vir&lt;br /&gt;Na mulher criança que reascendia a sorrir...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8084289789734296282-8397049225725868120?l=poetisalancinante.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/feeds/8397049225725868120/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8084289789734296282&amp;postID=8397049225725868120' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/8397049225725868120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8084289789734296282/posts/default/8397049225725868120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetisalancinante.blogspot.com/2009/08/qual-por-do-sol-renascem-em-mim-cores.html' title='Renascimento'/><author><name>Adriana Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16758344852576838083</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnnSXwuxo0I/AAAAAAAAByg/9K-b06QOk6c/S220/bb8.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__xLz8ODcoIU/SnwZ7SnVcdI/AAAAAAAABzc/z3LaCg72bOY/s72-c/images2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
