tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256366692012-01-09T23:01:24.733-08:00P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.comBlogger361100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-26449738210641257722011-07-12T16:48:00.000-07:002011-07-12T16:52:14.797-07:00- quantos anos você tem?<div>- não sei.</div><div>- 30?</div><div>- muito menos...</div><div>- 25?</div><div>- muito menos...</div><div>- 18?</div><div>- ...me lembro.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-2644973821064125772?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-67100865898001826952010-02-01T13:47:00.000-08:002010-02-01T13:53:03.304-08:00serei a moça<br />talvez a outra<br />ser ia<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-6710086589800182695?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-53780517131116054402008-02-14T16:05:00.000-08:002008-02-14T16:08:55.408-08:00olhos puchado<br />passados atados<br /><br />ele, n'ela<br />na parede um passado<br />nosso.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-5378051713111605440?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-44883574505595247672007-08-24T20:22:00.000-07:002011-07-12T16:23:14.309-07:00<div align="center">a menina perdeu a linha</div><div align="center">pusque achou tá fêa</div><div align="center">p'ro menino que subia</div><div align="center">no alta da pitombeira</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">o que menina não sabia</div><div align="center">é que menino cuchichava</div><div align="center">quanto mais alto subia</div><div align="center">mais alto ele sonhava</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">voava de ser grande gente</div><div align="center">arrumado e barbudo</div><div align="center">p'ra numa mostra de dente</div><div align="center">ganhar o resto do mundo</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-4488357450559524767?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-29128619925541127772007-08-15T19:10:00.000-07:002007-08-15T19:24:57.936-07:00nos olhos leva<br />meu brilho<br />de cor ausente<br /><br />na boca guarda<br />meus restos<br />de café<br /><br />os passos<br />flutuam<br />alguma lembrança<br />d'eu<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-2912861992554112777?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-91389043778415013452007-08-03T12:15:00.000-07:002007-08-03T12:22:19.812-07:00olhos que te sentem<br />distante e perto<br />para depois morrer<br />em goles amargos de tua saliva<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-9138904377841501345?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-30029339393968071892007-07-17T02:54:00.000-07:002007-07-17T02:59:38.136-07:00para<br />toda<br />mão<br />.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-3002933939396807189?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-69143281391631942172007-07-17T02:48:00.000-07:002007-07-17T02:49:55.154-07:00por migalha<br />a formiga<br />formigava<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-6914328139163194217?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1162763620042212882006-11-05T13:51:00.000-08:002006-11-05T13:53:40.053-08:00me perdo<br />e te perco<br />para entre<br />as linhas<br />te encontrar<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-116276362004221288?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1158625262516351652006-09-18T17:14:00.000-07:002006-09-18T17:21:02.530-07:00extemamente perto<br />para um beijo,<br />ou menos.<br /><br />estrela mente,<br />longue dos olhos<br />não tem Estela.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-115862526251635165?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1155874548301807122006-08-17T21:08:00.000-07:002006-08-17T21:15:48.313-07:00roeu,<br />o rato<br />sou eu<br /><div align="center">só pato</div><div align="center">no meu</div><div align="center">sapato</div><div align="right">ingato</div><div align="right">onde</div><div align="right">o gato?</div><div align="center"> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-115587454830180712?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1155065223733458852006-08-08T12:25:00.000-07:002006-08-08T17:50:00.806-07:00logue de min<br />te querer<br />tão mau assim<br />pois<br />por'acaso<br />meu caso<br />é você.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-115506522373345885?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1154393450190858702006-07-31T17:40:00.000-07:002006-07-31T17:52:25.593-07:00nem se quer<br />me quer bem<br />no canto do olho<br />refletindo alguem<br /><br />quando sai<br />não olha m'inguem<br />esconde a raiva<br />que finge, que tem<br /><br />ele cala<br />o calo,<br />não calo<br />ele<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-115439345019085870?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1153884510208126152006-07-25T20:23:00.000-07:002006-07-25T20:28:30.240-07:00me seca<br />as gotas<br />sem cegar<br /><div align="center">ou</div><div align="right">me cega</div><div align="right">em gotas</div><div align="right">sem secar<span style="color:#ff0000;">.</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-115388451020812615?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1153144016124577402006-07-17T06:41:00.000-07:002006-07-17T06:48:16.840-07:00serei eu<br />, s'eu desenho animado,<br />des'animado<span style="color:#ff0000;">?</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-115314401612457740?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1152920811162282022006-07-14T16:42:00.000-07:002006-07-14T16:46:51.173-07:00lindo isso<br />lindo e só<br />lindo.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-115292081116228202?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1152808180463693322006-07-13T09:01:00.000-07:002006-07-13T09:29:40.503-07:00a moça<br />almoça-me<br /><div align="right">bem tive</div><div align="right">bem ti vi</div><div align="left">dama</div><div align="left">d'amar</div><div align="right">te recito</div><div align="right">minha receita</div><div align="right">poetica</div><div align="left">un inverso</div><div align="left">di vida</div><div align="left">nos só</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-115280818046369332?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1152467221077021902006-07-09T10:17:00.000-07:002006-07-09T10:47:01.106-07:00<span style="color:#330033;">- existe amor depois do amor?</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">- não quero saber!</span><br /><span style="color:#330033;">- existiria, se você me deixasse?</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">- isso eu pergunto a você...</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">...se eu te deixar, você voltaria a amar?</span><br /><span style="color:#330033;">- eu não acredito!</span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">- em que?</span><br /><span style="color:#330033;">- quem...</span><br /><span style="color:#330033;">...em quem.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-115246722107702190?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1152229730132558722006-07-06T16:45:00.000-07:002006-07-06T16:50:56.500-07:00um edredon<br />pr'a minha gripe,<br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">tchi amar!</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-115222973013255872?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1150079845501179582006-06-11T19:35:00.000-07:002006-06-11T19:37:25.513-07:00Ah de quem?<br />Ah de min,<br />ser teu...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-115007984550117958?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1149637511898164332006-06-06T16:43:00.000-07:002006-06-06T16:45:11.910-07:00pedaço de min<br />em suas pernas<br />estremesido<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-114963751189816433?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1149455803638565342006-06-04T14:12:00.000-07:002006-06-04T14:18:28.466-07:00assim assado<br />do mal passado<br /><br />sai d'ali<br />pr'o teu<br />aqui<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-114945580363856534?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1149350027788004932006-06-03T08:50:00.000-07:002006-06-03T08:55:51.223-07:00teu vicio<br />de meu gozo<br />é vicioso<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-114935002778800493?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1148778145471884552006-05-27T17:44:00.000-07:002006-05-27T18:05:50.243-07:00contra o chão<br />sua bola de carne recontorcia-se para que, com os olhos, ache o pedaço de vida que lhe resta.<br /><br />lá,<br />embaixo do que resta de um rosto ele finge que encontra, mas morre na primeira pedra-criada.<br /><br />- Não morre assim!<br />ele não sabe qual ouvido, mas se faz empé.<br /><br />- Não é assim!<br />não morria, assim ele pergunta:<br /><br />- Quem vive?<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-114877814547188455?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1148438320195074962006-05-23T19:33:00.000-07:002006-05-23T19:38:40.196-07:00nu vem<br />com gosto<br />de algo tão doce<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-114843832019507496?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1148437979676710602006-05-23T19:25:00.000-07:002006-05-23T19:32:59.693-07:00era de 3 minutos<br />quando tinha<br />meus nos seus<br />sonhos<br /><br />foi feito assim,<br />bola de sabão<br />em dedos<br />de papel<br /><br />sempre visto<br />de gostos coloridos<br />um teu preto<br />no meu branco<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-114843797967671060?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1148005941129147652006-05-18T18:55:00.000-07:002006-05-18T19:32:21.166-07:00- falaram na tv.<br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">- eu ouvi.</span><br />- eu não acredito.<br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">- nada é certo.</span><br />- eu seria certo.<br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">- você não receberia um voto.</span><br />- mas ele recebeu.<br /><span style="color:#3366ff;">- é que...</span><br />- ...agente samo inganado.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-114800594112914765?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1147821814528758292006-05-16T15:38:00.000-07:002006-05-16T16:32:16.093-07:00- casa para dois.<br /><div align="right"><span style="color:#000000;">- só?</span></div>- com quarto de domir.<br /><div align="right"><span style="color:#000000;">- de que cor?</span></div>- branca, mas com algumas manchas de pé sujo na parede.<br /><div align="right"><span style="color:#000000;">- cortina?</span></div>- não, mas poderia arrajar janelas pequenas.<br /><div align="right">- deseja mais algo?</div>- sim, um cinzeiro.<br /><div align="right">- mais alguma coisa?</div>- um paraqueda.<br /><div align="right">- com paraquedista?</div>- não, queria uma bailarina.<br /><div align="right">- certo, b-a-i-l-a...</div>- escreve com dois éris.<br /><div align="right">- ta, r-r-i-n-a.</div>- e me deixe um poema na porta pela manham.<br /><div align="right">- se não tiver versos suficiente?</div>- serve pão.<br /><div align="right"></div><div align="right">- pronto, deseja mais alguma coisa?</div>- não.<br /><div align="right"></div><div align="right">- então.</div>- o que fazemos agora?<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-114782181452875829?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1147559876085016192006-05-13T15:21:00.000-07:002006-05-13T17:38:34.623-07:00esquece<br />teus vicios<br />na linguagem<br />dela<br /><br />morre<br />na poesia<br />do peito<br />dele<br /><br />d'ele n'ela<br />n'ele d'ela<br />e leu<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-114755987608501619?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1147143206126186662006-05-08T19:34:00.000-07:002006-05-08T19:53:26.176-07:00com fuso<br />de pensar<br />sem ti<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-114714320612618666?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1146610284388158772006-05-02T15:46:00.000-07:002006-05-02T15:54:51.886-07:00<div align="right">deixa<br />a cortina<br />e vem<br />me censurar<br /><br />um dia<br />o que<br />é ditadura<br />vai te matar.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-114661028438815877?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1146609820460331362006-05-02T15:15:00.000-07:002006-05-04T07:56:48.560-07:00sai do carro, vem comigo<br />mostre possivel,<br />o conversar<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-114660982046033136?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1146314341808556132006-04-29T05:20:00.000-07:002006-04-29T09:37:12.383-07:00<div align="right">foi de chuva</div><div align="right">todo mal que fiz,</div><div align="right">agua suja e vento</div><div align="right">e um céu</div><div align="right">(sem remendos)</div><div align="left">era um fio, uma fita,</div><div align="left">minha fenda de mar,</div><div align="left">eu, rio, sem navegar</div><div align="right">era bela,</div><div align="right">de pano,</div><div align="right">quando </div><div align="right">carne</div><div align="right">tinha</div><div align="right">a alma</div><div align="right">fedida</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-114631434180855613?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1145232969084697582006-04-16T17:01:00.000-07:002006-04-16T17:18:55.680-07:00uma vez, quando menino<br />havia esquecido,<br />pois brincava de esquecer,<br />havia se perdido,<br />para sentir medo,<br />havia fumado,<br />pois flertava atenções,<br />havia chorado,<br />para leveza do lenço,<br />havia beijado,<br />pois era influenciavel,<br />havia calçado,<br />para ocupar os pés,<br />havia sido,<br />pois queria ser<br />esquecido.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-114523296908469758?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1145077957501508272006-04-14T21:38:00.000-07:002006-04-14T22:12:37.533-07:00- por favor, um espelho!<br />- eis o espelho.<br /><br /><div align="right">olho nos olhos</div><div align="right">da cor ouvi teu sabor</div><div align="right">e</div><div align="right"> do rosto viu o cheiro.</div><div align="left">com os dedos melados,</div><div align="left">de tinta,</div><div align="left">sujou os outros </div><div align="left">de teu rosto</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-114507795750150827?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25636669.post-1144462857472505932006-04-07T18:36:00.000-07:002006-04-07T19:20:57.480-07:00- era navio? ele me perguntou.<br />- não - eu respondi<br /><br />foi tão simples mentir no escuro,<br />que meu medo do amanhecer apareceu.<br />eu gostava do medo,<br />era vivo e me deixava vivo,<br />como brasa, tabaco e seda.<br /><br />foi engrassado<br />ver o fogareu morrer na agua,<br />pessoas pulando e fogos no céu,<br />foi como no reveilon - meu reveilon -<br />uma fulia no céu<br />em quanto na terra,<br />há na terra era eu,<br />eu e meus erros.<br /><br />legal,<br />era navio!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/25636669-114446285747250593?l=de-escrever.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>P.http://www.blogger.com/profile/08473064803176075137noreply@blogger.com3