tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-332164082024-03-05T06:10:16.762-03:00Jeito - Vania - De - PoetarTenho conversado com as palavras. Elas me dizem da força que têm e me confidenciam alguns segredos do mundo, de mim, de coisas e de sentimentos. Aqui, preciso dar espaço a elas. Abrirei o bocão. Gritarei bem alto e berrarei. Quero bailar-brindar-viver-amar em demasia. Quero ainda ser eu mesma, na mais louca e digna maneira de ser. Nada de máscara. Nem de medos. Nem de mesmice. Não pretendo transitar em comportamentos paradoxais. Apenas ser coerente... E deixar o inesperado chegar por aqui."Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-88089678076481088652011-02-09T11:34:00.000-03:002011-02-09T11:34:52.576-03:00Quero a poesia sem plateia.<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB9HrWpSdIBm1LQGPu0BUKdnBlEz5_6iYFonkaN4WDYu7HplhxvcoAOr20K1NhjxIrbL11l14mylOv9Mga_bSPvWw_12xruAxvzytIjDBmd6_H45TBct4WMJWPBldp09ReoxFM4A/s1600/imagesCAC5OQ0H.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" h5="true" height="145" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB9HrWpSdIBm1LQGPu0BUKdnBlEz5_6iYFonkaN4WDYu7HplhxvcoAOr20K1NhjxIrbL11l14mylOv9Mga_bSPvWw_12xruAxvzytIjDBmd6_H45TBct4WMJWPBldp09ReoxFM4A/s320/imagesCAC5OQ0H.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Quero a poesia me ensinando a <u><strong>viver</strong></u>.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Quero a alegria de simplesmente <u><strong>ter</strong></u></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Palavras e versos invadindo meu <u><strong>ser</strong></u></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Quero a poesia me ajudando a <u><strong>sorrir</strong></u></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Quero a alegria de simplesmente <strong><u>sentir</u> </strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Cantigas e rimas me fazendo <u><strong>fluir</strong></u></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>Quero a poesia sem <strong>plateia!</strong>"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-84348163254988046892011-02-06T09:51:00.004-03:002011-02-07T11:03:21.912-03:00DE VOLTA PRO MEU ACONCHEGO<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUs0SLhLepQVym0p4NPB66jPIra6tE1MOjSVnqFN7I6-HUqEWRdt7FmcAwUiLJvyvKRObRyHbqifVMAUQdjodWEpa8-1MMvpClzxihExQdimMKZ9DjOfe-TWjxfOKwcrNRd7EMFA/s1600/imagesCADOQJJA.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 167px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 167px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570946632521994306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUs0SLhLepQVym0p4NPB66jPIra6tE1MOjSVnqFN7I6-HUqEWRdt7FmcAwUiLJvyvKRObRyHbqifVMAUQdjodWEpa8-1MMvpClzxihExQdimMKZ9DjOfe-TWjxfOKwcrNRd7EMFA/s200/imagesCADOQJJA.jpg" /></a><br /><div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cccccc;">Aqui é meu jardim</span></strong><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cccccc;">...</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cccccc;">Planto sementes:</span></strong></div><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cccccc;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cccccc;">De escrever... </span></strong><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cccccc;">De viver...</span></strong><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cccccc;">De sonhar...</span></strong><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cccccc;">De amar... </span></strong><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cccccc;">De mim... De Poetar... Com afeto!</span></strong></div><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cccccc;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"> </div></div>"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-33977502498731303382009-10-28T10:19:00.002-03:002009-10-28T10:35:17.949-03:00Outro Retrato<span style="font-family:courier new;">Minha música vem da<br />Música da poesia de um poeta João que<br />Não gosta de música<br /><br />Minha poesia vem<br />Da poesia da música de um João músico que<br />Não gosta de poesia<br /><br />O dado de Cabral<br />A descoberta de Donato<br /><br />O fato, o sinal<br />O sal, o ato, o salto:<br /><br />Meu outro retrato </span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">(Caetano Veloso)</span><br /><p><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span> </p><p><span style="font-family:courier new;"><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>Vídeo gravado no Happy hour da Aquarela Musical</strong></span></p><br /><br /></span>"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-68686493194227464952009-07-20T17:27:00.003-03:002011-02-06T09:51:05.859-03:00Espanando a estante...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaKdiuy84aOK-qYAYGxMtm_0FDiV-XtMXgydI9eUrq4wyufoXbRu_bEtXwyEN9g0VWKoHGShULY7VS2Rr3WLPAoteuTd0HueD1YyTraya-qxY56g5dYvjOyesEW0BXGPOkTHba9A/s1600-h/Banner+++Poesia.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 140px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360642832091067586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaKdiuy84aOK-qYAYGxMtm_0FDiV-XtMXgydI9eUrq4wyufoXbRu_bEtXwyEN9g0VWKoHGShULY7VS2Rr3WLPAoteuTd0HueD1YyTraya-qxY56g5dYvjOyesEW0BXGPOkTHba9A/s200/Banner+%2B+Poesia.jpg" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffffff;">Faço faxina na minha estante, numa periodicidade bem proxima. </span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffffff;">Tenho medo que os meus livros criem pó e que as palavras preferias por mim fiquem sujas. </span></div><br /><div></div>"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-9901487081709643012009-06-02T08:05:00.003-03:002009-06-02T08:16:01.991-03:00Estou colecionando os versos dela<a href="http://www.orkut.com.br/Main#Profile.aspx?uid=10184039823717052924"><strong>Jéssica Koshner</strong></a><strong>:<br />(se clicar no nome vai ter a alegria de conhecê-la)</strong><br />Cor de passarinho...Cor tão bela que uma mente jamais alcançaria...Mas aí chega você!Voce é ainda maior que isso: é o vento entre as asas desse pássaro, o mesmo que balança a crina do cavalo, que corre tão livre pelo mato...O vento também tem a cor do invisível...<br /><br />(De: Ela)<br />(Par: Eu)"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-62460836613296735052009-05-14T17:04:00.007-03:002009-05-29T11:03:01.835-03:00<div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiabxwobdtuTKesmdmI3C_OY9FjCUFfP_l1MOvurH2PoBBX-XyfPUlkhT7xr377EC43KPxgk4kz_q5brJtO6-oaYII140jK3hQ-0YBZEspDb6Y5jsyBOyZEFsmnawq8SUz9fQKJsA/s1600-h/OgAAAO6PBUnzq8JeYcGeKd26LM-v92JJAOKOZcJ1xsoC8liFMwaWR6XOz_vWQcetWBSnycFBrWzkmEx3DSIDTQ6pUqYAm1T1UGKnSeU0llcwgUrw9XSil_HqkL00.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335773651777954258" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 146px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiabxwobdtuTKesmdmI3C_OY9FjCUFfP_l1MOvurH2PoBBX-XyfPUlkhT7xr377EC43KPxgk4kz_q5brJtO6-oaYII140jK3hQ-0YBZEspDb6Y5jsyBOyZEFsmnawq8SUz9fQKJsA/s200/OgAAAO6PBUnzq8JeYcGeKd26LM-v92JJAOKOZcJ1xsoC8liFMwaWR6XOz_vWQcetWBSnycFBrWzkmEx3DSIDTQ6pUqYAm1T1UGKnSeU0llcwgUrw9XSil_HqkL00.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>Vaidade</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>Sonho que sou a Poetisa eleita,</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>Aquela que diz tudo e tudo sabe,</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>Que tem a inspirção pura e perfeita,</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>Que reúne num verso a imensidade!</strong></span> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="right"></div><div align="right"></div><div align="right"></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong></strong></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong></strong></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong></strong></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong></strong></span> </div><div align="left"><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>Sonho que um verso meu tem claridade </strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>P</strong></span><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>ara encher todo o mundo! </strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>E que deleita</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>Mesmo aqueles que morrem de saudade!</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>Mesmo os de alma profunda e insatisfeita!</strong></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>Sonho que sou alguem cá neste mundo...</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>Aquela de saber vasto de profundo,</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>Aos pés de quem a </strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>Terra anda curvada!</strong></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>E quando mais no céu eu vou sonhando,</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>E quando mais no alto ando voando,</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>Acordo do meu sonho... </strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>E sou um nada! </strong></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong>(Forbela Espanca)</strong></span></div>"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-30459825752231624822009-04-16T09:19:00.006-03:002009-05-29T10:48:49.601-03:00Ela é pura POESIA...<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOVDnCHjLZHJ0mamVCas3LRZXgjAYg3NBaFrAOVfn26qPB45MH7taW8SVgKh5ecQCtXYaKJNj8mn_H2ZEOC5LgvF2HwUOEdN7hpQUVHppSpbTguQJ9Zi0mkusd36xn3vDKJbipYA/s1600-h/fafa.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325262998142154866" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 134px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOVDnCHjLZHJ0mamVCas3LRZXgjAYg3NBaFrAOVfn26qPB45MH7taW8SVgKh5ecQCtXYaKJNj8mn_H2ZEOC5LgvF2HwUOEdN7hpQUVHppSpbTguQJ9Zi0mkusd36xn3vDKJbipYA/s200/fafa.jpg" border="0" /></a> <strong><span style="color:#000099;">Você sabia?????</span></strong></div><br />O nome <em><strong>Fabricia</strong></em> tem origem na palavra <em><strong>Fábrica.</strong></em><br /><br /><p><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">Fábrica de pura - p o e s i a </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color:#990000;">Fábrica de pura - m e l o d i a</span></strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color:#cc9933;">Fábrica de pura - m a g i a</span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color:#3366ff;">Fábrica de pura - a l e g r i a...</span></strong></p><p></p><p><span style="color:#009900;"><strong>Fábrica viva dos Dons de Deus</strong>!!!</span></p>"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-12877152413624195212009-04-08T16:05:00.001-03:002009-06-02T08:17:56.996-03:00<a href="http://www.orkut.com.br/Main#Profile.aspx?uid=10184039823717052924">Jéssica Koshner</a>:<br />Percepção.<br /><br />Cantiga que anuncia<br />A primavera<br />Estrela cadente<br />Sereia encantada<br />De cauda dourada<br />Céu no chão quente<br />Clarão do luarBrilhando na janela<br />Minha Lua Cris<br />Rima dos raios do Sol<br />Flor de todo Amor<br />Meu bem querer<br />Em você<br />Em seu bailar<br />Meu Vaniar...<br /><br />(De: Ela)<br />(De: Eu)"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-8659864937340235292009-04-07T10:11:00.001-03:002009-04-07T10:15:23.147-03:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMpnVEHIXDcQYRdQ-3582E2JHyLSlNVoqDo_sAWUu-3Q64OKavi_cP3-hE23cjctysd8V0EmWT17eu2UhkuKVjUWAPAtSp51pblxzdfaIOJKdX2aXqQ_zFinZKcOplA0NbRh9oUQ/s1600-h/Jessica.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321936646752745890" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMpnVEHIXDcQYRdQ-3582E2JHyLSlNVoqDo_sAWUu-3Q64OKavi_cP3-hE23cjctysd8V0EmWT17eu2UhkuKVjUWAPAtSp51pblxzdfaIOJKdX2aXqQ_zFinZKcOplA0NbRh9oUQ/s320/Jessica.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><strong><span style="color:#999999;">Neste poema de amar e amar,</span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="color:#999999;">Fez-se resnascer a poesia,</span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="color:#999999;">Arrancando da rima tua alegria</span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="color:#999999;"></span></strong> </div><div><strong><span style="color:#999999;">Encantada com versos diversos</span>.</strong></div><div> </div><div><em><span style="color:#999999;">poema: Vania</span></em></div><div><em><span style="color:#999999;">foto: Jessica</span></em> </div>"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-49698192222222897032009-04-01T10:47:00.004-03:002009-04-02T17:33:21.738-03:00MUSA<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0kQwQx5j1GLdbGlfFTqzcN3HJF6BJhSYTBmf6SSWyoyEBKZ53K1oueODWdnjLOa2B_8zQGe-uyz0hGjuWrJH8B4CNQOaDnfYmBJr20sMP_igExYE4Vk9oHdJeFpzjyzMXEummOA/s1600-h/DSC03325.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320194781280150418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0kQwQx5j1GLdbGlfFTqzcN3HJF6BJhSYTBmf6SSWyoyEBKZ53K1oueODWdnjLOa2B_8zQGe-uyz0hGjuWrJH8B4CNQOaDnfYmBJr20sMP_igExYE4Vk9oHdJeFpzjyzMXEummOA/s200/DSC03325.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><div><span style="color:#993399;"><em><strong>Mas que amor de cachorrinha!</strong></em></span><br /><span style="color:#993399;"><em><strong>Mas que amor de cachorrinha!</strong></em></span><br /><span style="color:#993399;"><em><strong></strong></em></span><br /><span style="color:#993399;"><em><strong>Pode haver coisa no mundo </strong></em></span><br /><span style="color:#993399;"><em><strong>Mais branca, mais bonitinha </strong></em></span><br /><span style="color:#993399;"><em><strong>Do que a tua barriguinha Crivada de mamiquinha? </strong></em></span><br /><span style="color:#993399;"><em><strong>Pode haver coisa no mundo </strong></em></span><br /><span style="color:#993399;"><em><strong>Mais travessa, mais tontinha </strong></em></span><br /><span style="color:#993399;"><em><strong>Que esse amor de cachorrinha </strong></em></span><br /><span style="color:#993399;"><em><strong>Quando vem fazer festinha </strong></em></span><br /><span style="color:#993399;"><em><strong>Remexendo a traseirinha? </strong></em></span><br /><span style="color:#993399;"><em><strong></strong></em></span><br /><span style="color:#993399;"><em><strong>Uau,uau,uau,uau! </strong></em></span><br /><span style="color:#993399;"><em><strong>Uau,uau,uau,uau!<br /></strong></em></span></div></div></div>"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-60576302124430181592009-01-07T16:11:00.005-03:002009-01-07T16:39:30.690-03:00Primeiras vivências de 2009<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRAX_iOf2ZSblMGwmAcyr-e0qSRyUxi6HmEJPlLlr3JgXpzg29M-zDhss2nU-kJIyKQdzw5MM3V0lZi84Z9qnVtkGPBjBdLLaPXrHH7vYK55LZcDK1a1yq1DCSiGoGDGuqt4IEhw/s1600-h/Suzanne+227.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288638696474993234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRAX_iOf2ZSblMGwmAcyr-e0qSRyUxi6HmEJPlLlr3JgXpzg29M-zDhss2nU-kJIyKQdzw5MM3V0lZi84Z9qnVtkGPBjBdLLaPXrHH7vYK55LZcDK1a1yq1DCSiGoGDGuqt4IEhw/s200/Suzanne+227.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1tj6psUwkVnDhY3KwnDw9axE8cENahyE5NzMnBRzPCJPctARcZC0GNZX3V6OwVxAMi0J51RQqZ6cW5IG_xCv_7fH9HexxqN2KuJ38WeH7pVTCzt4E_OBx564vH5K9rO266Y8z3g/s1600-h/Suzanne+269.jpg"></a><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#666666;"><em><strong><span style="color:#990000;">Sento-me na esquina da lua</span> </strong></em><em><strong><span style="color:#cc6600;">e de lá contemplo o mundo</span> <span style="color:#000099;">que </span></strong></em></span><span style="color:#000099;"><em><strong>começa a girar... </strong></em></span></div><br /><br /><div><span style="color:#666666;"><em><strong><span style="color:#666600;">Ate completar </span></strong></em><em><strong><span style="color:#666600;">as voltas do ano que se inicia</span>.</strong></em></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div><strong></strong></div></div></div>"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-43746342766667176472008-12-18T15:57:00.004-03:002008-12-18T16:39:57.081-03:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUpGK4MbihB-Q_Wc8cm4ayJW5Fzwys-_ZIXKccUcypNT9eaOOmlS_6dws-eDAYxt5a49HtvmxsFnO9QotRyMLr18LmeexXJ0Em6r4fpqZyfbkQd-muy15KfPWWBnp1jETZ-GAPow/s1600-h/palavras.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281217125477002082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 147px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUpGK4MbihB-Q_Wc8cm4ayJW5Fzwys-_ZIXKccUcypNT9eaOOmlS_6dws-eDAYxt5a49HtvmxsFnO9QotRyMLr18LmeexXJ0Em6r4fpqZyfbkQd-muy15KfPWWBnp1jETZ-GAPow/s200/palavras.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Ainda não conheço minha rima mais perfeita.<br />Também nem descobri a minha poesia mais sombria.<br />Tampouco encontrei as palavras mais risonhas.<br /><br />Só sei que, nas entrelinhas do meu poema, aparecem do nada,<br />pessoas,<br />cheiros,<br />sons,<br />melodias,<br />enfim.<br /><br />Meu poema não está vazio.<br />Ele rir da minha cara, porque enquanto o procuro...<br />Ele adormece e corda dentro de mim.<br />Em todos os dias de sol<br />E em todas as noite de lua.<br /><br /><br /><blockquote></blockquote></div>"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-84226790608755757892008-12-09T16:51:00.002-03:002008-12-09T16:56:50.753-03:00Certidão de nascimento.Ninguem me avisou que quando casamos "perdemos" a certidão de nascimento. É, deixamos no cartorio e... <br />Juro que senti um frio na barriga. Uma sensação de perda... Era o documento mais valioso que eu guardava.<br />Dizem, porém, que me darão outro. A certidão de casamento - onde meu nome ja não será o mesmo - E fico aqui horas a fio a matutar: E minha certidãozinha de nascimento? Por que não me devolvem? Aposto que não servirá pra nada...."Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-27044170920732198752008-11-20T16:02:00.003-03:002008-12-22T15:13:58.408-03:00Shara é "um caso de poesia"<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKKg9_szEfTyGdPWEI_z3KLcOXvNX_3pR0aJ2Wmg7-C80535zrY9Efm8dmzPP25lNsppIAGn73MRrhNhuI6x1cxJJJUi0xKHAaJn0ymUTP0PqAnTWhhH-_VJ3AHzi2CRSeNvWXew/s1600-h/shara.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282679315099078034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 176px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKKg9_szEfTyGdPWEI_z3KLcOXvNX_3pR0aJ2Wmg7-C80535zrY9Efm8dmzPP25lNsppIAGn73MRrhNhuI6x1cxJJJUi0xKHAaJn0ymUTP0PqAnTWhhH-_VJ3AHzi2CRSeNvWXew/s200/shara.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3dfguqzfapa0JS7cBdMMXvypJShvt19ReTWxqOrZCDZGyFCzXSVfM22Fy4iSJnecNxelr6wEESxXR149GNojQtuXnsVgYSXU8VkkN-lM7OhDmTaWcA2r3BA5N12ejSomwoTSIxA/s1600-h/shara.jpg"></a><br /><strong><em>Ela reinventa. Ela tem um "caso de poesia com Manoel"</em></strong></div>"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-5750890157172474272008-11-17T10:28:00.005-03:002008-11-25T15:18:00.774-03:00Manoel de Barros no meu blog.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg29Ux2I1KX1Q9PyBVVTJ36k6HYl0AQHQfzNCqgpjZRiYE6ieD91rHxJQIl3Kk9fW7eygU3WoAxujulfkuP4yM_LFiWNyS9ThmEIZzPXTkJSFDl6HCZq916JWKxdQ3XyUEA3_w3_Q/s1600-h/jo%C3%A3o+de+BArros.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 221px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg29Ux2I1KX1Q9PyBVVTJ36k6HYl0AQHQfzNCqgpjZRiYE6ieD91rHxJQIl3Kk9fW7eygU3WoAxujulfkuP4yM_LFiWNyS9ThmEIZzPXTkJSFDl6HCZq916JWKxdQ3XyUEA3_w3_Q/s400/jo%C3%A3o+de+BArros.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269712458723660834" /></a><br />Meu Querido "De Barros"<br />Tanto prazer em recebê-lo no meu mundo encantado das palavras:<br />Amigos, eis as doces palavras de Manoel, pra vocês.<br />Bebam esta oportunidade:<br /><br /><em>"Sou livre para o silêncio das formas e das cores."<br /><br />"Tentei descobrir na alma alguma coisa mais profunda do que não saber nada sobre as coisas profundas.Consegui não descobrir."<br /><br />"Um fim de mar colore os horizontes."<br /><br />"Poesia é voar fora da asa."</em>"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-48316242522190841152008-11-13T09:32:00.006-03:002008-12-09T16:51:38.283-03:00Palavreando<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-FK1OjflMI9_jk-FIJ53r1V0KWIwFzZOvV1QVO6acx6bDBO5FiytMCMB3XCoQWHSYFDLCw1p44EmozJ-wm36TwmoBE7GPRwnvGJSyjsN2ssf6TlzV0BsLF9_unV2QtcQatToH2g/s1600-h/novas+056.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-FK1OjflMI9_jk-FIJ53r1V0KWIwFzZOvV1QVO6acx6bDBO5FiytMCMB3XCoQWHSYFDLCw1p44EmozJ-wm36TwmoBE7GPRwnvGJSyjsN2ssf6TlzV0BsLF9_unV2QtcQatToH2g/s200/novas+056.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272662119747806498" /></a><br /><br />Cá estou outra vez a dialogar com palavras. Teimo com elas, discordo delas, mas me alimento do néctar que sugo de cada uma. Sempre que preciso respostas, busco nas "tão" óbvias. <br />Que bobagem tentar estilizar uma expressão, quando na verdade, o que vem de dentro, vem com essencia, uma vez que retrata a verdadeira comunicação...<br />Senti na pele a mudança que palavras provocam em nossas vidas...<br />As doces demais, as amargas demais, as superficiais... Essas jamais deverão ser ditas, nem pronunciadas por acaso.<br />As de amor então, devem ser guardadas para as pessoas que realmente as merecem. O risco de banalizar algumas delas nos deixa mudo..Sem palavras!"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-20012142524587550332008-10-15T11:09:00.006-03:002008-10-15T17:06:46.193-03:00Poetar é viver.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4s7TVx2qSmUCoAWgPvLso-AGviGNYAjKHP1jPqWB7N2Zh9FM0rLPEYOHwbaBJnvi8UICnebty0dR1cvHdtsCI6GRYsujGDz9X0tvuFPHnhrlP1E3XGOPyPnfW8HvWI-bpWHZggQ/s1600-h/variadas+132.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4s7TVx2qSmUCoAWgPvLso-AGviGNYAjKHP1jPqWB7N2Zh9FM0rLPEYOHwbaBJnvi8UICnebty0dR1cvHdtsCI6GRYsujGDz9X0tvuFPHnhrlP1E3XGOPyPnfW8HvWI-bpWHZggQ/s200/variadas+132.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257474600988088466" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff9966;"><em><strong>Quando paro de escrever a "inércia poética" me incomoda e muito me maltrata.</strong></em></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff9966;"><em><strong>Sinto os dedos meus reclamando pela ausência de palavras. </strong></em></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff9966;"><em><strong>Escuto meu coração chorando a saudade das rimas. </strong></em></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff9966;"><em><strong>E percebos meus olhos sutilmente procurando a minha poesia.</strong></em></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff9966;"><em><strong>Retomo.</strong></em></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff9966;"><em><strong>Respiro.</strong></em></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff9966;"><em><strong>Me inspiro.</strong></em></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff9966;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff9966;"><em>(by VaniAlmeida 15/10/2008)</em></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><br /><strong>Tenho tido muitas luas redondas no céu.<br />Tenho amado na altura das estrelas.<br />Tenho voado com meus pés no chão<br />Tenho vividos sonhos bem reais.</strong>"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-83399372317454004332008-09-11T15:04:00.003-03:002008-09-11T15:27:35.860-03:00Setembrilhando..<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFpZDxDzGFV43YLt3dp91qy7wT_hvaPYF-fZlh5wbQ6gJcs4_qtVE5NhtJRtdz4PMI0p_5Eg8W1Qhsm6CHwWjkVsUr0k6gS5OyksXQpgIYH4ZhLzk-5JRkN3MIZXgnOcoZACa40A/s1600-h/setembro+324.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244831608323135138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFpZDxDzGFV43YLt3dp91qy7wT_hvaPYF-fZlh5wbQ6gJcs4_qtVE5NhtJRtdz4PMI0p_5Eg8W1Qhsm6CHwWjkVsUr0k6gS5OyksXQpgIYH4ZhLzk-5JRkN3MIZXgnOcoZACa40A/s200/setembro+324.jpg" border="0" /></a> <br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff6600;">O brilho do céu sob meus pés</span></div><span style="color:#ff6600;">(me energiza..)</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">Meus pés sobre o brilho que vem do céu</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">(me equilibra)</span><br /><span style="color:#ff6600;"></span><br /><br /></div>"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-53891990677654254362008-08-28T16:42:00.004-03:002008-08-28T16:49:22.696-03:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqzMRFKcJcgzVf85Zf8HXE7BmB4qna1se0DL1jMq2fBN8j-Kag2xwkzmGxzRP6P048lLGGspo1j1EJXEwnY5Mn4uCRT8cegnvZix0r2opGiWUGHfZrtFLyPEol5d4WCX57C10KIw/s1600-h/P7110259.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239656860017423426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqzMRFKcJcgzVf85Zf8HXE7BmB4qna1se0DL1jMq2fBN8j-Kag2xwkzmGxzRP6P048lLGGspo1j1EJXEwnY5Mn4uCRT8cegnvZix0r2opGiWUGHfZrtFLyPEol5d4WCX57C10KIw/s200/P7110259.JPG" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:130%;">No quintal da minna casa </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">também </span><span style="font-size:130%;">nasce arco-íris...</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">E posou pra minha câmera </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">por indizíveis </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">e lindos minutos...</span> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">(<span style="font-size:85%;">privilegio de uma tarde de julho-08</span>)</div>"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-23041673243031940932008-08-11T10:04:00.003-03:002008-08-28T16:51:38.618-03:00IDIOTICES<p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKLR4lzW4NeqZ0DOvc9JBjH_-tsVJRkERd_W8KhRQSNhk1RvXOocqp1kQz7fboiLrD_al0FvABsNaPIQAAgw6K6j8IJKmb75crFttJ1ILV8OpkhC2HVsBiYB06UNNkiqE1vP_nrA/s1600-h/images.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233245655214713842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKLR4lzW4NeqZ0DOvc9JBjH_-tsVJRkERd_W8KhRQSNhk1RvXOocqp1kQz7fboiLrD_al0FvABsNaPIQAAgw6K6j8IJKmb75crFttJ1ILV8OpkhC2HVsBiYB06UNNkiqE1vP_nrA/s200/images.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><div align="center">"Pensar incomoda,<br /></div><div align="center">como andar à chuva</div><div align="center">quando o vento cresce</div><div align="center">e parece que chove mais."<br /></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">(Alberto Caeiro)</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">(pela mão de Fernando Pessoa)</div>"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-47829532046825806822008-08-07T17:37:00.008-03:002008-08-07T18:01:45.585-03:00No Tic - Tac do meu coração.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ5w35XDSSNubpE7znS4MEdNYmcBVmuQGHbz2641mBd-mtKoo2G4B_6uAKcqbU1iYqeOyXQBUBbTI3UGRnFQoxvUB4rGV3SdSExLWhKh94GWe9KOLwV77m6KHpZKVQJgrdNJYnPQ/s1600-h/cora%C3%A7%C3%A3o.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231880397570196930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 141px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 231px" height="153" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ5w35XDSSNubpE7znS4MEdNYmcBVmuQGHbz2641mBd-mtKoo2G4B_6uAKcqbU1iYqeOyXQBUBbTI3UGRnFQoxvUB4rGV3SdSExLWhKh94GWe9KOLwV77m6KHpZKVQJgrdNJYnPQ/s400/cora%C3%A7%C3%A3o.jpg" width="136" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><div><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"></span></div><div><span style="color:#ff0000;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color:#33ff33;"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Nas</span> </span>batidas </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color:#ff0000;">do </span><span style="color:#ff0000;">meu </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"><em><strong>coração</strong></em></span></div><div><span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;">Escuto o compasso</span></div><div><span style="color:#cc0000;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;">do</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color:#cc0000;"><span style="color:#ff0000;"> </span></span><span style="color:#cc0000;"><em><strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie92_GcMu4aoa8DX51zXdJ0htVatJ-Iu6siecjy_A3JpqXkv9HoVuzVIQImFt5UN4FCgItJiUgFKFtZo1lfRUx0F3tzza9hm_az8A13yAzOSEj94zTM2KTxk11qje4oKNTBOLRzg/s1600-h/imagescora.jpg"></a>seu</strong></em></span></span></div><div><strong><em><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span></em></strong></div><div><strong><em><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span></em></strong></div><div><strong><em><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span></em></strong></div><div><strong><em><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span></em></strong></div></div></div>"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-24310198190309261962008-07-08T11:21:00.006-03:002008-08-07T17:52:04.791-03:00Edição especial para meus "leitores fieis"<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZg7UlccVIKFeBLhWqVaAP2AmlrsS1T7pzYv1odTtu50BBfkRIgo7ritwIHdpWIdE23fnyiuIvQPnFZ42FW-mpWWz8P7q6ZS0crvRJUhMN8ZdC_02dVvauQ07YWqMmGu9L8ZGmjw/s1600-h/080.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220652198780146578" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZg7UlccVIKFeBLhWqVaAP2AmlrsS1T7pzYv1odTtu50BBfkRIgo7ritwIHdpWIdE23fnyiuIvQPnFZ42FW-mpWWz8P7q6ZS0crvRJUhMN8ZdC_02dVvauQ07YWqMmGu9L8ZGmjw/s400/080.gif" border="0" /></a><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong><em>Olá Pessoas,</em></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong><em>Nos últimos dias tenho recebido tantos </em></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong><em>"elogios da loucura".</em></strong></span> <ul><li><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong><em>Da loucura de rabiscar.</em></strong></span></li><br /><li><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong><em>Da loucura de criar.</em></strong></span></li><br /><li><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong><em>Da loucura de <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">poetar</span>.</em></strong></span></li></ul><div><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong><em>Enfim, que culpa tenho eu de vocês (meus leitores)</em></strong></span> <span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong><em>serem tão especiais assim.?</em></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong><em>É disso que resulta minha vontade de:</em></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong><em>Postar pra viver e viver pra postar...</em></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong><em>Alô <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Michele</span>, continue lendo meu blog</em></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong><em>Entre, sente-se e deleite-se com as palavras...</em></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong><em></em></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#cc33cc;"><strong><em>Beijo em "um-por-um" de vocês.</em></strong></span></div>"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-58432058757886115492008-06-20T17:35:00.002-03:002008-06-20T17:41:39.705-03:00casinha de música!!!!!<span style="color:#cc0000;">AQUARELA:</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">Esperando você na janela do novo endereço!!!!!!!</span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">Bem ali, perto do BNB.</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJNb8kF-lykq7WwhrYc29EyoR6dxE3yau25PTCn_HN3Q-xnUMJw-omLRxqjnIjHSItdOMEhUd1Ve8tv7__5yP7BhHs4zXIMNms7bwysR6pRjpsWMnnW9MAQ_PBe0QuV5dmEk0HhA/s1600-h/icon_band1.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214065814557668770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJNb8kF-lykq7WwhrYc29EyoR6dxE3yau25PTCn_HN3Q-xnUMJw-omLRxqjnIjHSItdOMEhUd1Ve8tv7__5yP7BhHs4zXIMNms7bwysR6pRjpsWMnnW9MAQ_PBe0QuV5dmEk0HhA/s400/icon_band1.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-1113633747367731062008-06-11T16:59:00.005-03:002008-06-11T17:46:09.911-03:00Dia dos nAMORados<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9RVM-7AR_fCxslgn-rId-eN5CFpRXHnigdj9xe0VeAjvgf5lcvFn39DtIXQoPyvFwxIdv9EGE7aftdLBWsIPtwNUH8X9WXBXhZnzsQ5JhlmxIV_oSG2qiNlDmQC6Sd_05nDDrJA/s1600-h/jeri+2+030.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210723630483313330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9RVM-7AR_fCxslgn-rId-eN5CFpRXHnigdj9xe0VeAjvgf5lcvFn39DtIXQoPyvFwxIdv9EGE7aftdLBWsIPtwNUH8X9WXBXhZnzsQ5JhlmxIV_oSG2qiNlDmQC6Sd_05nDDrJA/s200/jeri+2+030.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"><strong>Pra começo de papo ... </strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"><strong>Que papo é esse de Dia dos n AMOR ados?</strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"><strong></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"><strong>Todo dia o sol nasce e se põe para os namorados... </strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"><strong>De um jeito ou de outro.</strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"><strong>Todas as noites, de um jeito ou de outro a lua se mostra prara os namorados (seja cheia, ou minguante, ou nova, ou mesmo crescente)... </strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"><strong>De um jeito ou de outro.</strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"><strong>O mar se agita à disposição dos namorados a qualquer hora que o relógio marcar... </strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"><strong>De um jeito ou de outro.</strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"><strong>Os pássaros cantam, as borboletas voam, as flores cheiram... </strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"><strong>De um jeito ou de outro.</strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"><strong></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"><strong>Então, cá com meus botões, PENSO EU que, quem tem namorado pode fazer de todos os dias um dia especial...</strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"><strong>De um jeito ou de outro..</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"><strong></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"><strong>É só uma questão de SER e TER um namorado todos os dias do ano... </strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"><strong>E de um jeito ou de outro, todos os dias serão nossos ...</strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"><strong></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"><strong>FELIZES TODOS OS DIAS NOSSOS.. </strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"><strong></strong></span></div>"Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33216408.post-28497849648945248522008-05-21T16:28:00.003-03:002008-05-21T16:35:10.432-03:00O mundo pertence a quem se atreve.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimajF3NwRlndUB7eLi2lg3ly-ltYNcuL5Uren0CF43-zT2QiX0nOAXSpkVLa8AR_cJGx7CTXDhm2wJT4olhbIDaCKB1WaFRGt_qHKc9UE_pT_QAl9Bftg94W4NR3NgzqK-T-jwaw/s1600-h/ATgAAADtgCbYQJ8EDlgkDe1LSGXFPdhZpjpIYyhmH5McctfagaJKQlJrVpyVaQBHQnS-gIT7K9Tf3PGerkPCb198ZBw2AJtU9VDfDb6rJWxrmUUTWTuFdb-T_glN5g.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimajF3NwRlndUB7eLi2lg3ly-ltYNcuL5Uren0CF43-zT2QiX0nOAXSpkVLa8AR_cJGx7CTXDhm2wJT4olhbIDaCKB1WaFRGt_qHKc9UE_pT_QAl9Bftg94W4NR3NgzqK-T-jwaw/s200/ATgAAADtgCbYQJ8EDlgkDe1LSGXFPdhZpjpIYyhmH5McctfagaJKQlJrVpyVaQBHQnS-gIT7K9Tf3PGerkPCb198ZBw2AJtU9VDfDb6rJWxrmUUTWTuFdb-T_glN5g.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202916582858340418" /></a><br /><br /><blockquote></blockquote>Porque nós dois somos um time campeão."Sou porta bandeira de mim"http://www.blogger.com/profile/17847367238473604786noreply@blogger.com0