tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4747147262506514892024-03-06T20:02:15.209+00:00PROSASDEOUTONOUMA FORMA DE VIDA, UM MOMENTO DE CRIAÇÃO, UM ESTADO DE ALMAprosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.comBlogger1113125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-41774689628022606032023-12-18T18:41:00.002+00:002023-12-18T19:26:32.320+00:00saudade<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBJx_6XHWjarmga5tG7RmDx7vmHFKSkcKHXpRNpAZgHlacSw0zB0eBBSwDnhrazNljdeTYDmdQCAes_10ti5_IYizzMT3njpIs2xk3MfqMIvgSVjYOv63McZcRxZwIsAW8RIg484KfvH_nMJBWivW0vhiI6sZUu2pdAZQ-21_V6cU9GPOkYQiDu_wU_IA/s304/asas%20de%20anjo.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="166" data-original-width="304" height="166" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBJx_6XHWjarmga5tG7RmDx7vmHFKSkcKHXpRNpAZgHlacSw0zB0eBBSwDnhrazNljdeTYDmdQCAes_10ti5_IYizzMT3njpIs2xk3MfqMIvgSVjYOv63McZcRxZwIsAW8RIg484KfvH_nMJBWivW0vhiI6sZUu2pdAZQ-21_V6cU9GPOkYQiDu_wU_IA/s1600/asas%20de%20anjo.jpg" width="304" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">até onde pode viajar o pensamento,</span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">se livre de nostalgia e com todo o tempo</span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">do mundo?<br /><br />fecho os olhos, e a tudo o que possa retirar<br />toda a solenidade dum momento ímpar<br />e tão profundo...<br /><br />de asas brancas, quais anjos imaginários,<br />surgem todos os rostos, livres, solidários,<br />ainda que num breve segundo...<br /><br />eles, os meus anjos, compreendem<br />o meu grito contido, ao vento proibido<br />de contar histórias, memórias,<br />sim, que o tempo lembra como vivido.<br /><br />afago cada um (os meus anjos) com luva de cetim,<br />e acaricio cada fio de cabelo<br />que um dia passou por entre meus lábios,<br />e tudo foi tão, mas tão belo...</span></p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-66766249771125463022023-12-10T20:48:00.005+00:002023-12-14T19:57:30.276+00:00Natal nas estrelas<p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivrfh0QceVJVe730jOfDa4gfJaIZaHb1YDtQsBUxvg5R_j6nDZhnK9SF1Fa-MQ5zYUWTybwTF6j2PrJckjhZWr2YJ1Z0S0123NLxTyIwowTywakxLmsoIpXqCcvHcarp-NLsaBZLBFn5DXFuovwZvJUoALp7roq1oHE-CQJ1N44h1NNROlgyo4jQUFgmA/s320/Pai%20Natal.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivrfh0QceVJVe730jOfDa4gfJaIZaHb1YDtQsBUxvg5R_j6nDZhnK9SF1Fa-MQ5zYUWTybwTF6j2PrJckjhZWr2YJ1Z0S0123NLxTyIwowTywakxLmsoIpXqCcvHcarp-NLsaBZLBFn5DXFuovwZvJUoALp7roq1oHE-CQJ1N44h1NNROlgyo4jQUFgmA/s1600/Pai%20Natal.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">fito o horizonte </span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">onde não avisto renas,</span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">nem trenós</span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">puxando velhos barbudos </span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">que lembrariam nossos avós...</span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">apenas avenidas </span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">de lâmpadas coloridas...</span><br /><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">de coração cheio, sorrio,</span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">e sigo meu caminho</span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">tentando ver a maior Estrela </span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">que brilha, e um Menino,</span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">em palhas dormindo...</span><p></p><p><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-73634097955615292262023-12-08T18:25:00.004+00:002023-12-09T17:14:15.221+00:00emoções<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzNa50FxZLtNsbtkecxnPUGCOgFfZkadUQOTboyE4l3Pzbi4347MgQoey7gRCy6FwQHyLE9BS3E28xT2Mku6PW6xcoJyZjd4F3MW5umG0YdIZ9Dot1HR-KtcdzHQBtRgeB47eK8-4e2KWGYG2ONXChfa1W-uykNU0JccvtZ5Hvz3y0ZYUH2dU8TnIWkg0/s275/emo%C3%A7%C3%B5es.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzNa50FxZLtNsbtkecxnPUGCOgFfZkadUQOTboyE4l3Pzbi4347MgQoey7gRCy6FwQHyLE9BS3E28xT2Mku6PW6xcoJyZjd4F3MW5umG0YdIZ9Dot1HR-KtcdzHQBtRgeB47eK8-4e2KWGYG2ONXChfa1W-uykNU0JccvtZ5Hvz3y0ZYUH2dU8TnIWkg0/s1600/emo%C3%A7%C3%B5es.jpg" width="275" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">voltas ao sitio onde as emoções<br />te marcaram um dia,<br />feito de sonhos, traições,<br />pesadelos, e tantos de alegria,<br />e vês que valeu a pena...<br /><br />vale sempre a pena, quando a alma<br />tem o tamanho do mundo,<br />um sorriso que tudo esconde,<br />uma palavra sensata que acalma <br />cada rosto com que te deparas,<br />a paz nos sorrisos que te abraçam,<br />e te fazem sentir gigante,<br />naquele mundo por vezes sem nexo, <br />em quase nada excitante...<br /><br />voltaste... não porque há chamamento,<br />saudade ou lamento,<br />mas porque algo ficou por dizer,<br />algo que teimas esconder.<br /><br />na certeza do acto, desvias teu olhar<br />na troca de olhares, não vá ele te denunciar...</span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-71271274430612323172023-12-05T20:40:00.006+00:002023-12-05T22:27:15.008+00:00junto da lareira <p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZHUEFlKwISk_22UHyUUg1zHip0nghyphenhyphendW5vm0rcC91jb4NademCozjcJbVVpgM_IC-ulxN9zgkR7SyrmQVBbzuM22A31sl9PLP9KovvAHmkOa3neynTUjV5ojwrZl7tw943uo1u42vk7LdbrB7aXBg0LVrjbLs4lUH9hviu2DfWIdKBUv9kjN1hfbRiuM/s276/lareira.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="276" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZHUEFlKwISk_22UHyUUg1zHip0nghyphenhyphendW5vm0rcC91jb4NademCozjcJbVVpgM_IC-ulxN9zgkR7SyrmQVBbzuM22A31sl9PLP9KovvAHmkOa3neynTUjV5ojwrZl7tw943uo1u42vk7LdbrB7aXBg0LVrjbLs4lUH9hviu2DfWIdKBUv9kjN1hfbRiuM/s1600/lareira.jpg" width="276" /></a></div><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span><p></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">sente-se mas não se vê,</span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">ouve-se, e não se sente</span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">ninguém por perto,</span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">apenas o crepitar da madeira,</span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">e este lume brando</span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">que nos aquece o corpo e a alma...</span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">pela mente, ressuscitam viagens, </span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">lugares, amores e desamores, </span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">passado e presente, </span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">fantasias, certezas e temores, </span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">imperceptíveis num rubro rosto</span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">em tudo ausente...</span></p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-48310593289049508032023-12-04T17:59:00.003+00:002023-12-04T21:23:15.986+00:00viagens<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQWo86fX0kXLq7W-DlWov8c1KA0XZoCxjfdif5Wt-GCSdFrbR5yXpLFI24XizsJ75E61ExiLX6unoll5R4s-O_NcBt94le5kVor2YNSL7CtD5g9L-Rjn7xPKGzYxnNisfN_jqLFmaSACeq1elQS5FErr9Nx4h_B5wyWQ96xe-833Z9qk5sQkFf1z0WnOE/s259/viagens.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQWo86fX0kXLq7W-DlWov8c1KA0XZoCxjfdif5Wt-GCSdFrbR5yXpLFI24XizsJ75E61ExiLX6unoll5R4s-O_NcBt94le5kVor2YNSL7CtD5g9L-Rjn7xPKGzYxnNisfN_jqLFmaSACeq1elQS5FErr9Nx4h_B5wyWQ96xe-833Z9qk5sQkFf1z0WnOE/s1600/viagens.jpg" width="259" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">sempre haverá um rio,</span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">e um barco unindo as margens,</span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">como o Norte até ao Sul,</span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">mapa onde se cruzam viagens...</span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">de que adianta querer fintar o destino?</span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">as malas estão prontas para outras paragens...</span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-29320904339100376652023-12-02T17:05:00.000+00:002023-12-02T17:05:02.461+00:00Granja<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyeN6pKY9IkkwP5L8nMLAfyxEB3ixc1JF6AHwErHMaNQDaVRxxXvPS9pKhsCPafzj17ZsIYudaeZwClyQHRaQ3Ss7kpFgmvfz_wCtvVHA2badDwX2MN1Gmw7xl3l6fvaITgVLiAY7gcaeu8OgtW5NOYpAYmCoBIAe8XMJKjQuyMhR8HoAlxuPc-kd0NKg/s4032/Granja.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyeN6pKY9IkkwP5L8nMLAfyxEB3ixc1JF6AHwErHMaNQDaVRxxXvPS9pKhsCPafzj17ZsIYudaeZwClyQHRaQ3Ss7kpFgmvfz_wCtvVHA2badDwX2MN1Gmw7xl3l6fvaITgVLiAY7gcaeu8OgtW5NOYpAYmCoBIAe8XMJKjQuyMhR8HoAlxuPc-kd0NKg/s320/Granja.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms", sans-serif;">num constante movimento </span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">quase ritmado no tempo,</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">as ondas morrem na fina areia, </span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">perdendo-se pelos labirínticos rochedos.</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">talvez contem segredos,</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">histórias de náufragos, </span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">visões em noites de lua cheia...</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">talvez seduzam os desprevenidos </span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">ou os embebidos pelo canto da sereia...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">quem sabe já esqueceram meus passos</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">perdidos na areia batida, molhada,</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">em tardes que o dia prolongava,</span><br /><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms", sans-serif;">marcas de amantes sem rumo, sem nada....</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "comic sans ms", sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-44029752616081337062023-12-01T19:20:00.000+00:002023-12-01T19:20:14.169+00:00ansiedade<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXYuyLR5FRXzahrWMZ1F0V0tzDHmOhoZezPbTBbNKB69qdslSQ438NrQkjkxpg049WBntD-XJuvFhMZSxJbQbiJa60jR5W66qd_Xr42w0Z1TPaxoatNZ7urEJ5QzCrD7txD1tInMyX0dKaB8F2GlAA5HNYtbWFTOs8vX4Q-Yj3E9nEump4YfwKq8jag78/s270/vazio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="187" data-original-width="270" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXYuyLR5FRXzahrWMZ1F0V0tzDHmOhoZezPbTBbNKB69qdslSQ438NrQkjkxpg049WBntD-XJuvFhMZSxJbQbiJa60jR5W66qd_Xr42w0Z1TPaxoatNZ7urEJ5QzCrD7txD1tInMyX0dKaB8F2GlAA5HNYtbWFTOs8vX4Q-Yj3E9nEump4YfwKq8jag78/s1600/vazio.jpg" width="270" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">o vento passa em silêncio,<br />e o silêncio nada me diz,<br />como se ontem não existisse<br />e não houvera castos sorrisos,<br />palpitações, sentimentos imprecisos...<br /><br />fecho todas as janelas<br />perdendo-me no vazio,<br />onde sentir é um arrepio<br />que me trespassa a alma,<br />e me faz viajar qual raio de luz...<br /><br />de que valem os sonhos, desejos,<br />momentos, sentimento,<br />quiçá sofrimento, <br />pela ânsia de teus beijos?</span></p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-1008146043301295222023-11-28T11:26:00.002+00:002023-11-28T17:11:59.700+00:00sonhos<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAnhTi0BVxGvfONmcDSyJdsxK24bAVPC8s8hcEXSbj6DE_rKLk8VXk0Uh0v3ZFSYd6NzYx1FA5Y7xA1yAFObK5UoPsIK5_dWFOYTugDXvzmQt5mQEcvEteM4UWAMF_paHjLQvR9cxkHKIOUzmuuiqj331TToHLjmVpUJJ7VUOiaFvXH6CrGkvZ91_8vvA/s267/sonhos.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="189" data-original-width="267" height="189" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAnhTi0BVxGvfONmcDSyJdsxK24bAVPC8s8hcEXSbj6DE_rKLk8VXk0Uh0v3ZFSYd6NzYx1FA5Y7xA1yAFObK5UoPsIK5_dWFOYTugDXvzmQt5mQEcvEteM4UWAMF_paHjLQvR9cxkHKIOUzmuuiqj331TToHLjmVpUJJ7VUOiaFvXH6CrGkvZ91_8vvA/s1600/sonhos.jpg" width="267" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">é das vivências no inconsciente que o sonho nasce,<br /></span><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">qual filme a decorrer, onde as imagens</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">permanecem nítidas, tão próximas,</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">ao alcance de meus dedos.<br />que ninguém ouse me tocar<br />ou falar ao ouvido, <br />segredar<br />palavras lindas ou sem sentido...<br /><br />o sonho prossegue<br />e na essência se ergue,<br />qual realidade presente,<br />até que, um raio de luz,<br />um estremecer na escuridão,<br />e tudo se dissipa<br />como fumo por entre os dedos da mão...<br /></span></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-58317005618516777752023-11-25T19:32:00.000+00:002023-11-25T19:32:06.078+00:00a nudez dos seres<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsO8gU7cUy1jy8x1XVJrWjCD2shsEY3jy17ifH0hr27m9rSlPocjiHQqn609Sey93w6Ciamcc4pMTr3-z30ZcAtUwLeOh8vDd2GsDh5mH21_EV9NNLlQlr6RGjX-uLeSwsoY4MQPASTH8xPldikt4bvOZJLj5j-AkfJZidLKWOSB7utXqNzYI6yblcYcU/s287/banco%20jardim.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="176" data-original-width="287" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsO8gU7cUy1jy8x1XVJrWjCD2shsEY3jy17ifH0hr27m9rSlPocjiHQqn609Sey93w6Ciamcc4pMTr3-z30ZcAtUwLeOh8vDd2GsDh5mH21_EV9NNLlQlr6RGjX-uLeSwsoY4MQPASTH8xPldikt4bvOZJLj5j-AkfJZidLKWOSB7utXqNzYI6yblcYcU/s1600/banco%20jardim.jpg" width="287" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">já é tarde, como se o tempo</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">não tivesse passado,<br />ou de tudo estivesse arredado<br />enquanto adormeci ou morri ao relento.<br /><br />são meus olhos que já não querem ver<br />as penumbras do que era luz e cor,<br />nem os teus olhos pedindo amor,<br />quando dentro de mim tudo teima adormecer.<br /><br />já é tarde, e rapidamente caiu a noite<br />no meu ser, quem me acolhe, onde eu pernoite<br />e acorde nos seus braços qual abraço final?<br /><br />liberto-me desta mortalha, tão fria, tão nua,<br />imagem de tua pele na minha pele num qualquer banco de rua,<br />e sigo noite fora, procurando na lua um sinal....<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-21545735169443074132023-11-08T18:54:00.000+00:002023-11-08T18:54:16.723+00:00navegando<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivmZH8ctTKaJEoZjANjd6QIR_bqGH6hSAImzwrJKAwbXk0g1yDo5QSgbCZ5XoJPutRcnD4-NeKW4rDVOW0u7dKJmZs9cHehDqX9xbnWmU7KHQmyAnorv15-A3WLHY5ifhrGvhqk7gaIQ9s3DdzhJAxGWY4sfMyuMnw0VAIq-RQLTQw7rGks-L10IMVHHw/s226/navegando.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="223" data-original-width="226" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivmZH8ctTKaJEoZjANjd6QIR_bqGH6hSAImzwrJKAwbXk0g1yDo5QSgbCZ5XoJPutRcnD4-NeKW4rDVOW0u7dKJmZs9cHehDqX9xbnWmU7KHQmyAnorv15-A3WLHY5ifhrGvhqk7gaIQ9s3DdzhJAxGWY4sfMyuMnw0VAIq-RQLTQw7rGks-L10IMVHHw/s1600/navegando.jpg" width="226" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">ainda que chova todo o tempo,<br />ainda que a vida seja um lago de água,<br />que meu barco navegue ao sabor do vento<br />nas calmas águas da vida, sem mágoa,<br />e desprendido do sentimento...<br /><br />que cada pingo de chuva, lave o corpo, a alma,<br />numa dança sem par, apenas eu, numa rua calma...<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-5593702559475216802023-11-07T16:09:00.001+00:002023-11-07T18:56:29.056+00:00sol de outono<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjO3SECBbPsRNz7bqFpJKLYqoKBF7B8l9OawKYnTR9l5YaSHR7lvfHhBUyjB3R_ATmdZGnXQTLPLuEtnAfIZqApLwxCyi09JW3cXsOMJwTh0pR-nFRw-DINLtXJ_k9wYn14Ts6dlHVQsDEaWPI43u4l2LRtbPpZXULtpwMgr0Ha_lma5zBmbWytxnFeM8/s275/sol%20de%20outono.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjO3SECBbPsRNz7bqFpJKLYqoKBF7B8l9OawKYnTR9l5YaSHR7lvfHhBUyjB3R_ATmdZGnXQTLPLuEtnAfIZqApLwxCyi09JW3cXsOMJwTh0pR-nFRw-DINLtXJ_k9wYn14Ts6dlHVQsDEaWPI43u4l2LRtbPpZXULtpwMgr0Ha_lma5zBmbWytxnFeM8/s1600/sol%20de%20outono.jpg" width="275" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></div><div><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></div><div><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></div><div><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></div><div><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></div><div><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></div><div><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></div><div><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></div><div><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">tarde de outono, do tempo incerto,<br />do sol que de forma fugidia<br />te beija o corpo, atravessa a alma,<br /></span><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">embala-te num eterno momento de fantasia.<br /><br />fantasia de sonhos e quimeras,<br />de fugazes momentos quão difíceis de apanhar<br />tão rápido é o tempo, o filme que passa<br />nuns breves segundos que nem sentes o respirar...<br /><br />de olhos cerrados, a pele pedindo mais calor,<br />absorves-te de tudo, dos medos, da dor<br />que o teu mundo cria e leva até ti, sem nada pedires.<br /><br />esqueçam que eu existo... nada quero ouvir, sentir,<br />o meu mundo é este, eu, o sol, e as folhas a bulir<br />pela brisa de teu ser, quando meus lábios nos teus sentires...</span></div><div><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></div><div><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></div>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-2150431579767585352023-11-06T18:59:00.004+00:002023-11-06T19:06:26.518+00:00mãos cheias de nada...<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWs6qgosHvadCpdpJT7a6InUO3ghlN1sMpDCvqewqWddS-KAEh53bTBJ_eNX1K9DuboxqKaFkCLKIochYcKO4r5PdATPuz6aHrEc3HYNqk_XAry7bvo-4N02EqxfBZVI2pUSbLzlixSJ4j9RHS65ljv-vdH4qIV157hYOSJLdlhfVsAz8YyDbC4nAwsqM/s275/maos%20vazias.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWs6qgosHvadCpdpJT7a6InUO3ghlN1sMpDCvqewqWddS-KAEh53bTBJ_eNX1K9DuboxqKaFkCLKIochYcKO4r5PdATPuz6aHrEc3HYNqk_XAry7bvo-4N02EqxfBZVI2pUSbLzlixSJ4j9RHS65ljv-vdH4qIV157hYOSJLdlhfVsAz8YyDbC4nAwsqM/s1600/maos%20vazias.jpg" width="275" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">tenho todo o tempo do mundo,</span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">uma mão cheia de nada,<br />e outra mão numa escrita sem nexo,<br />sem vigor, sem alma, defraudada...<br /><br />é hora de partir, barco sem remo, sem vela,<br />amparado pelo sorriso aberto, franco,<br />que me guia até ao mar imenso<br />onde teu rosto é luz envolto em manto.<br /><br />que não se apague esta miragem,<br />este sonho vivido, alma sem bagagem,<br />sem porto de abrigo, algo intenso,<br /><br />sem dor, apenas resquícios de outrora,<br />como quem se fere ao colher a amora<br />num silvado inventado, imaculado, denso...</span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-69774674687541239582023-11-05T19:22:00.001+00:002023-11-05T20:46:37.633+00:00outros olhares...<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOGR6Jbp0onT-BWNpLcj71e8lkuYwQeIYJR4reTWDyTix_q1hlVXBOL-3TViDGcBPxLwyGPVXWBkgc1bGTEDYOJI512iD_HtanbORFq9lpLEW1hXpEoBsnnFTK7YFoj2P0jJyFy6VNtm2cufcAkXm8V-KrdR9q0vVObYXxWHlNLyUed_LCPj50e-OLztg/s229/olhares.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="229" data-original-width="220" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOGR6Jbp0onT-BWNpLcj71e8lkuYwQeIYJR4reTWDyTix_q1hlVXBOL-3TViDGcBPxLwyGPVXWBkgc1bGTEDYOJI512iD_HtanbORFq9lpLEW1hXpEoBsnnFTK7YFoj2P0jJyFy6VNtm2cufcAkXm8V-KrdR9q0vVObYXxWHlNLyUed_LCPj50e-OLztg/s1600/olhares.jpg" width="220" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">do nada nascem,<br />ou renascem<br />memórias,<br />histórias,<br />encontros,<br />desencontros,<br />olhares inquietos,<br />lábios despertos<br />para palavras de ocasião,<br />ali...na palma da mão...<br /><br />e nesse moreno com graça,<br />perfilha-se a saudade<br />do tempo que passa,<br />mas tão ingrata a verdade...<br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-82886831047235484142023-03-21T20:32:00.001+00:002023-03-21T20:32:19.300+00:00sobre as palavras...<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD0ETCMaUes020kxJd1T1CuVg-j9aW9TJ8HJ1BZd3sGnwlatxEHaV0Ln1OwcvCtkk61ddr8g3QdaLbYCDMVF1Ij6HjdUzimF6uMQVE0tt1KF7Blnxz8jgRwfSTt55Bak2WRGoZ2w_2QSlDgoem9wJg-ZXZGONR5A4Ghzey7G0iW2VjuVeWu524yTd0/s299/poesia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="299" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD0ETCMaUes020kxJd1T1CuVg-j9aW9TJ8HJ1BZd3sGnwlatxEHaV0Ln1OwcvCtkk61ddr8g3QdaLbYCDMVF1Ij6HjdUzimF6uMQVE0tt1KF7Blnxz8jgRwfSTt55Bak2WRGoZ2w_2QSlDgoem9wJg-ZXZGONR5A4Ghzey7G0iW2VjuVeWu524yTd0/s1600/poesia.jpg" width="299" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">tenho em mim todas as palavras<br />que fariam um poema, <br />que falaria de emoções,<br />de amor ou de paixões,<br />se tal valesse a pena.<br /><br />tenho em mim todas as palavras,<br />um rio bravo por domar<br />correndo em desafio,<br />verso a verso, aceso o pavio,<br />até onde alguém decifrar.<br /><br />sufocadas pelo silêncio no tempo,<br />desnudadas na alma, em solidão,<br />em cada palavra o sofrimento<br />que o verso não traduz, nem dá razão...</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-3150061306827294562023-03-18T20:17:00.004+00:002023-03-18T21:53:36.723+00:00"uma letra para ti..."<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxwon3qVtl7CyXRPQ3YynJiefjl0-TZGkWIrWhKz1M3uUp1JPHuRnvZce9hNkHRX1C2psn2VNqsNKEwz-8yViBVin5R2HlqntC4PkzZXcaq4S3IB2mbg6_fnJ3AiZr00AwpDNCzygRpeImyiE4xofFmrq4eDnyA3cjQ0x6UAqSy0F_waLivwQHyWu3/s328/abra%C3%A7o.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="154" data-original-width="328" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxwon3qVtl7CyXRPQ3YynJiefjl0-TZGkWIrWhKz1M3uUp1JPHuRnvZce9hNkHRX1C2psn2VNqsNKEwz-8yViBVin5R2HlqntC4PkzZXcaq4S3IB2mbg6_fnJ3AiZr00AwpDNCzygRpeImyiE4xofFmrq4eDnyA3cjQ0x6UAqSy0F_waLivwQHyWu3/s320/abra%C3%A7o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><div><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></div><div><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></div><div><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></div><div><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></div><div><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></div>na paragem do autocarro,<br />as horas que passam, acendo o cigarro<br />com teu rosto na saudade,<br />enquanto o autocarro tarda pela cidade...<br /><br />amor, eu desespero pelo teu desespero,<br />mas tu sabes, quando demoras eu espero,<br />e a vida é assim, um grande corrupio,<br />uns dias na paz, outros a toque de assobio.<br /><br />sento-me nos bancos de trás,<br />a música que toca é o bem que me faz,<br />amor, espera, curva após curva estou a chegar,<br />e teus doces lábios, um presente, um doce beijar...<br /><br />amor, eu desespero pelo teu desespero,<br />mas tu sabes, quando demoras eu espero,<br />e a vida é assim, um grande corrupio,<br />uns dias na paz, outros a toque de assobio.<br /><br />finalmente teu abraço,<br />um beijo, um amasso,<br />amor, era grande a saudade,<br />agora, no silêncio, os corpos fervilham na leviandade.<br /><br />amor, eu desespero pelo teu desespero,<br />mas tu sabes, quando demoras eu espero,<br />e a vida é assim, um grande corrupio,</span><div><span face=""comic sans ms", sans-serif">uns dias na paz, outros a toque de assobio.</span> </div><div><br /></div>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-2721391186018619702023-02-11T21:11:00.000+00:002023-02-11T21:11:11.315+00:00fazer de conta...<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaooLD1PXmE2b52PCKh0zLRlvZPcwKnirI874p7ACUDx3z0fCMK6wpqDJnENCIujWCNJZVWsT6kAKTiL1Uhpr9lbgWcB9R__qu5R5vMgidoX19syDofoFK7rwC81L2XtsX151IBKmTxR3twRk99NNFrwKFGjNWaxyKpH3CCfmjG-SSjgb6-bXiwsPZ/s291/desanimo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="173" data-original-width="291" height="173" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaooLD1PXmE2b52PCKh0zLRlvZPcwKnirI874p7ACUDx3z0fCMK6wpqDJnENCIujWCNJZVWsT6kAKTiL1Uhpr9lbgWcB9R__qu5R5vMgidoX19syDofoFK7rwC81L2XtsX151IBKmTxR3twRk99NNFrwKFGjNWaxyKpH3CCfmjG-SSjgb6-bXiwsPZ/s1600/desanimo.jpg" width="291" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>é inútil ficar, permeável <br />a este ar que me incendeia<br />nesta terra agreste, indomável,<br />rios onde as águas secam,<br />e os mares são castelos de areia <br />intransponíveis...<br /><br />nos mais secretos sonhos, <br />o teu rosto projectado <br />na lua<br />reflecte-se no meu leito,<br />só a imagem de ti<br />e o rumor de teu afago <br />em meu peito...<br /><br />é inútil ficar, fazer de conta,<br />quando no íntimo de mim desponta <br />a vida, escalada sem jeito...</p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-1281231999254764452023-02-09T11:16:00.000+00:002023-02-09T11:16:42.254+00:00o limite da razão...<p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0KDhoawGuKPNi6KekSU6Wlu7f3n4SOPmSAIwZ64Dvne8qC2KFzV1YgX1CMvRrZU8fu52c0hY-L7q2IQp7YzF2nR3JJ5nYn2IylktmXte22LYDJeC4EpNq-dZY3pNS47D3xqr7Kco_79g9RExb4H3SnQQsafAkAS9p2yGp9WowyHwJhLh_KEIgaMEh/s275/questionar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0KDhoawGuKPNi6KekSU6Wlu7f3n4SOPmSAIwZ64Dvne8qC2KFzV1YgX1CMvRrZU8fu52c0hY-L7q2IQp7YzF2nR3JJ5nYn2IylktmXte22LYDJeC4EpNq-dZY3pNS47D3xqr7Kco_79g9RExb4H3SnQQsafAkAS9p2yGp9WowyHwJhLh_KEIgaMEh/s1600/questionar.jpg" width="275" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">as imagens ferem como lâminas,<br />sem sangue, sem vestígios,<br />apenas ferem... ferem<br />e destroem o limite da compreensão humana...<br /><br />porquê? qual a razão?<br />questiono-me, e as respostas são vazio, são em vão...<br /><br />as percepções até aqui intocáveis, assumidas,<br />desmoronam-se, tal como aves que tombam feridas!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /><br /></span></p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-53663514312589131052023-02-09T10:32:00.000+00:002023-02-09T10:32:48.195+00:00"leveza das palavras"<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE3vbVVW_jlHqQbmlAPSzeIcgq7m25FKDBmiaFB55hCJb1qPP35xZPW_GcuKcQ68uwaRFafWSR-3KiOUEKZJDiW493x80StM4lttlOlHFiE8QN9jDufldepP7XSpNn2Y9VXcj94s-AfHCUfxw5WGMimLRM4iSs83TOQQzlquLUdZO09jwrPGHgvgBN/s225/leveza.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE3vbVVW_jlHqQbmlAPSzeIcgq7m25FKDBmiaFB55hCJb1qPP35xZPW_GcuKcQ68uwaRFafWSR-3KiOUEKZJDiW493x80StM4lttlOlHFiE8QN9jDufldepP7XSpNn2Y9VXcj94s-AfHCUfxw5WGMimLRM4iSs83TOQQzlquLUdZO09jwrPGHgvgBN/s1600/leveza.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">soltam-se as palavras,<br />como folhas secas<br />desprendidas das árvores,<br />ou arrancadas pelo vento...<br /><br />leves e sem conteúdo,<br />ou pesadas, curvadas pelo tempo,<br />as palavras têm os segredos<br />que os lábios interpretam<br />na troca de olhares.<br /><br />soltam-se as palavras<br />ao sabor da brisa,<br />no perfume exalado<br />numa conversa no tempo prometida.<br /><br />e necessárias, as palavras adormecem,<br />serenas, num sono profundo,<br />como se não houvera amanhã...<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-62012274471864443372023-02-08T19:19:00.000+00:002023-02-08T19:19:44.910+00:00leveza do toque...<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijK7BJHT_ECyg34mP2HQQ1xOcmId0JPrbvHgEZsMr5kkQg6ZUvvYJTKK-7SgX-cp0iPELL_8_oJs_3ch43ojad0T_TQCxTd3faFcXrhuZ6RIzaDo7JiyWIslVNvjF0AnM97rnzyNH-RXqxkUBVGRkUAZIKDRx_Cs86xGvd4YpXjYgxSsakIEwqvSL5/s253/brisa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="199" data-original-width="253" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijK7BJHT_ECyg34mP2HQQ1xOcmId0JPrbvHgEZsMr5kkQg6ZUvvYJTKK-7SgX-cp0iPELL_8_oJs_3ch43ojad0T_TQCxTd3faFcXrhuZ6RIzaDo7JiyWIslVNvjF0AnM97rnzyNH-RXqxkUBVGRkUAZIKDRx_Cs86xGvd4YpXjYgxSsakIEwqvSL5/s1600/brisa.jpg" width="253" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;">é cedo, lenta a madrugada,<br />rumo ao mar, a ondulação, <br />a brisa na crista da onda...<br />e no meu rosto...<br /><br />sigo em frente, <br />com perfeita noção,<br />que todo o coração sente<br />alguma nostalgia, com este horizonte...<br /><br />passo apressado,<br />o pensamento para lá do infinito!<br />ah se estivesse sozinho,<br />se minha liberdade fosse um grito,<br />ansiando um navio ou uma cápsula do tempo...<br /><br />ou um abraço... apenas um abraço,<br />uma brisa suave,<br />um toque, um passatempo...<br /><br />e continuo no meu mundo, passo a passo...<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><br /></span></p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-47651002275494373062023-01-25T19:42:00.001+00:002023-01-25T19:47:11.949+00:00amanhecer...<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFQW9vz9ngrlagJ4aaE2DimQuFO1IjCkUUwjb_uuU9E-7FaxllViJdosHy7lEziETlhIktqCF-9ihWQFnTy-dy6zux8LPEAfOj-pYSPQtuWnQUuPsFzsTPibwAVkw8aOnNPhSssm7eTBb39OqpaKoH3xTqz1y1VzIVyN2Hx6tsdJJXCDah5UD0tZVZ/s252/segurando%20o%20sol.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="252" data-original-width="200" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFQW9vz9ngrlagJ4aaE2DimQuFO1IjCkUUwjb_uuU9E-7FaxllViJdosHy7lEziETlhIktqCF-9ihWQFnTy-dy6zux8LPEAfOj-pYSPQtuWnQUuPsFzsTPibwAVkw8aOnNPhSssm7eTBb39OqpaKoH3xTqz1y1VzIVyN2Hx6tsdJJXCDah5UD0tZVZ/s1600/segurando%20o%20sol.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif">quero acreditar que nascerá amanhã,<br />a luz mais brilhante<br />do raiar do dia...<br /><br />que seja luminosa e limpa,<br />que trespasse a alma,<br />que derrube muros,<br />todos os segredos...<br /><br />quero acreditar que o amanhã<br />será límpido, sem medos,<br />lágrimas de fogo como a flor da romã...<br /><br />quero acreditar que elevando as mãos,<br />vou prender, só para mim,<br />toda a luz do mundo, límpida, luminosa, <br />até que chegue o fim...<br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif"><br /></span></p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-41953549096757543472023-01-24T20:53:00.000+00:002023-01-24T20:53:42.729+00:00castelo de areia...<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP53T3HvyKwlojfPLI5wnTqDSfc522_lZPfjku-gw23FxaxmrBEpeNQPPs-6SImfy9FGwKZ-NGJPL-vQz3SPRdHXoXfWkE_PHhw1Ws0LYqb4rerK69QyptJ0v-Bajziu4ge-f7E1FOmlGxTOuQejb86gFEXgeN3VmEoaniLIPhv0QZkRTcXdJbXAZF/s299/castelo%20a%20ruir.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="169" data-original-width="299" height="169" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP53T3HvyKwlojfPLI5wnTqDSfc522_lZPfjku-gw23FxaxmrBEpeNQPPs-6SImfy9FGwKZ-NGJPL-vQz3SPRdHXoXfWkE_PHhw1Ws0LYqb4rerK69QyptJ0v-Bajziu4ge-f7E1FOmlGxTOuQejb86gFEXgeN3VmEoaniLIPhv0QZkRTcXdJbXAZF/s1600/castelo%20a%20ruir.jpg" width="299" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>e no momento tudo acabou,<br />tudo ruíu, se desmoronou,<br />não adianta fingir,<br />cruzar os dedos, esconder,<br />a verdade vai sempre surgir<br />no tempo que tudo quer reviver.<br /><br />e partes para além do nada,<br />no silêncio, na tarde ou madrugada?<br />que importa..., são os momentos<br />que nunca sonhamos <br />a acontecer, lamentos<br />pelo tempo que não gastamos...<br /><br />pedra por pedra, um castelo construí<br />na mais alta montanha, sem ti,<br />apenas eu e o rumor de teus passos<br />ou o que sobrou de ti, em pedaços...</p><p><br /></p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-79557843947868942732023-01-24T10:23:00.000+00:002023-01-24T10:23:03.604+00:00para lá de tudo...<p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizvheXbJSseuTdB12NA_YXoGv0ISLDuDhkTbVIuMqMVSgIRxJYJ2sGP3M21RYSAK5Li5FqGl-IhiGYSvgi4VBG5xpFzPkjQhQ8H51RijQf-Jx5-LLdLvKTy2mxgKGhPt1jLPeK_z8mbulqGrDgshxNP6IDKb1Uxp4rlSDnutQ9x2Ud7KtzGOHYIVRr/s275/destrui%C3%A7%C3%A3o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: "comic sans ms", sans-serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizvheXbJSseuTdB12NA_YXoGv0ISLDuDhkTbVIuMqMVSgIRxJYJ2sGP3M21RYSAK5Li5FqGl-IhiGYSvgi4VBG5xpFzPkjQhQ8H51RijQf-Jx5-LLdLvKTy2mxgKGhPt1jLPeK_z8mbulqGrDgshxNP6IDKb1Uxp4rlSDnutQ9x2Ud7KtzGOHYIVRr/s1600/destrui%C3%A7%C3%A3o.jpg" width="275" /></a></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">cada novo dia tem este dom,</span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt;">ser um novo dia, o sol que aquece,</span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt;">uma brisa que nos toca, e desaparece</span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt;">por encanto, uma sombra na contra mão...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt;">é neste murmúrio matinal,</span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt;">numa alma em desassossego,</span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt;">que renasce o imaterial e a tudo me desapego,</span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt;">com a consciência de que existe o bem e o mal.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt;">em correria, risos e sacola asseada,</span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt;">seguem em grupos, a pequenada,</span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt;">deixá-las ir na sua inocência...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt;">porque lá longe, muito longe, onde a vista não alcança,</span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt;">os dias serão outros, reina a morte, defunta é a esperança,</span><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt;">e tudo é dor, escuridão, terror e impotência!</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></span></p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-13459244681570823182023-01-22T19:35:00.001+00:002023-01-23T19:27:59.282+00:00silêncio...<p> </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjRTzvpZ9yUYqBHd7dpRnhiEI4rH9qephy6p3ffsHf5HqnuoJlJMWidfAg_kxsIBt_btv7HumwVlAONRUBjxZ8KCQZUp73s1KBf_F_SmqArOro1bgiEU-CISACWjoKyvcBcFJGb3Jaljpe9CRJ1SnFmUsppO9-lhZbks5jik56ioYCC_0gdYVeLjqQ/s275/folha%20vazia.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="275" data-original-width="183" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjRTzvpZ9yUYqBHd7dpRnhiEI4rH9qephy6p3ffsHf5HqnuoJlJMWidfAg_kxsIBt_btv7HumwVlAONRUBjxZ8KCQZUp73s1KBf_F_SmqArOro1bgiEU-CISACWjoKyvcBcFJGb3Jaljpe9CRJ1SnFmUsppO9-lhZbks5jik56ioYCC_0gdYVeLjqQ/s1600/folha%20vazia.jpg" width="183" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">há uma folha branca </span><br /><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">e há um deserto de ideias...<br />se algo aparecer, <br />que seja imaculado<br />e nobre, altar incandescente<br />onde as preces terão sentido!<br /><br />há uma folha branca,<br />e no horizonte, um sorriso,<br />mão estendida<br />mas que não alcanço... desculpa<br />pelo vazio, pelo ar que não respiro,<br />mesmo sentindo o rumor de teu coração...<br /></span></p><p><span face="'comic sans ms', sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-28168716533049904252022-11-01T19:49:00.000+00:002022-11-01T19:49:14.219+00:00a dor da perda…<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-vWo6gPxzo0VJ-WLt3YLLFkfUVPx7tnKq_ftrCnN9WH571SAeAeFKgHiZlwIIemSZYuKJtH_L2XfUcMaPkiMoqLdPkFQtXFm4sHXLWzAZIZhB4N3SK2aVb3T1mHUSpGpxu4nstLt35__o74Wk2wdkRZT2jHOR8EqXp7e0FrsobWWNZbwrPAXdZ2Zv/s299/perda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="299" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-vWo6gPxzo0VJ-WLt3YLLFkfUVPx7tnKq_ftrCnN9WH571SAeAeFKgHiZlwIIemSZYuKJtH_L2XfUcMaPkiMoqLdPkFQtXFm4sHXLWzAZIZhB4N3SK2aVb3T1mHUSpGpxu4nstLt35__o74Wk2wdkRZT2jHOR8EqXp7e0FrsobWWNZbwrPAXdZ2Zv/s1600/perda.jpg" width="299" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">o local não seria propício para conversa...<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">"já passaram 10 anos que nos deixou..."</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">"ninguém está preparado..."<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">ouço, interiorizo, e um calafrio </span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">percorre meu ser...</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">e quando acontecer, que montes, que vales, </span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">que rios acolherão a dor?<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">que forças interiores se emanciparão<br />na fragilidade do momento?</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">tempo, faz do meu ser,</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">um castelo da terra ao céu...</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474714726250651489.post-31233304206302279272022-11-01T10:36:00.000+00:002022-11-01T10:36:12.927+00:00Um dia como os outros ...<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_mpjEPBIP-kvImtVW_0_jJiPXiaNmTrOADijFOgKdCPpYtwOnBy5pgN46QVV_Vp4FU0aTtymEfUX_yLaYSQR9miU59khoz3oeIvnf87DzR7zDxjVs60LZ6BB8H1-6xYuuGyQwuQuP4pNsQWzBOw3Kba6tCKXJ-1NnBYM4WVPMdxKoaZm_SQ_bUjby/s533/cemiterio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="400" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_mpjEPBIP-kvImtVW_0_jJiPXiaNmTrOADijFOgKdCPpYtwOnBy5pgN46QVV_Vp4FU0aTtymEfUX_yLaYSQR9miU59khoz3oeIvnf87DzR7zDxjVs60LZ6BB8H1-6xYuuGyQwuQuP4pNsQWzBOw3Kba6tCKXJ-1NnBYM4WVPMdxKoaZm_SQ_bUjby/w185-h247/cemiterio.jpg" width="185" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">há dias que o calendário</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">teima em recordar...</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">apressam-se as pessoas,</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">carregam flores, triste o semblante...</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">o dia, como qualquer dia, nasceu,</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">e o sol ainda que envergonhado,</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">vai brilhando, a tudo indiferente.</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">por entre "ruas" estreitas,</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">do sítio onde jazem os que partiram,</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">a azáfama de embelezar,</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">"dar vida" ás pedras esculpidas</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">e para sempre inertes...</span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">dentro de mim, apenas a singela recordação </span><br /><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">e um agradecimento à vida...</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p>prosas de outonohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17450288078426386162noreply@blogger.com0