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<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/" xmlns:blogger="http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Fri, 08 Mar 2024 19:19:51 +0000</lastBuildDate><category>O outro Lado</category><category>joaninha</category><category>ave</category><category>do verbo voar</category><category>Era uma vez laranja</category><category>Lado B</category><category>ladybug</category><category>borboleta</category><category>Mariana Gouveia</category><category>variações de mim</category><category>flor</category><category>Ar Líquido</category><category>dos corações que vejo</category><category>corrupião</category><category>preto e branco</category><category>As Marias</category><category>Van Luchiari</category><category>Kha Tembe</category><category>Via Lunar</category><category>nas minhas mãos</category><category>Alice Ruiz</category><category>Via Solar</category><category>Ydeo Oga</category><category>beija-flor</category><category>coisa de pele</category><category>lembranças</category><category>Albano Martins</category><category>Alejandra Pizarnik</category><category>Chiquinho</category><category>Conjugar afetos</category><category>Herberto Helder</category><category>Líria Porto</category><category>Yves Namur</category><category>ahcravo</category><category>das canções</category><category>lírio</category><category>xícara</category><category>Ademir Antonio Bacca</category><category>Adília Lopes</category><category>Agripina Roxo</category><category>Alexandre O’neill</category><category>Almada Negreiros</category><category>Cecília Meireles</category><category>Chapada do Guimarães</category><category>Chico Buarque</category><category>David Morão-Ferreira</category><category>Devaneios</category><category>Dira Vieira</category><category>Encantatório</category><category>Eugénio de Andrade</category><category>Graça Pires</category><category>João Veríssimo</category><category>Juliana Brina</category><category>Libélula</category><category>Manoel de Barros</category><category>Maria Borges</category><category>Marina Colasanti</category><category>Yvette Centeno</category><category>Zidna Nunes Ou Ziris</category><category>azaleia</category><category>azul</category><category>das palavras</category><category>árvore</category><category>A Cabana</category><category>A. 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Pires Cabral</category><category>Adalgisa Nery</category><category>Adriana Calcanhoto</category><category>Adélia Prado</category><category>Al berto</category><category>Al-Hallaj</category><category>Alice Vieira</category><category>Alma</category><category>Alonso Alvarez</category><category>Amália Bautista</category><category>Amélia Pais</category><category>Amélie Poulin</category><category>Ana Jácomo</category><category>Ana Luisa Amaral</category><category>Ana Salomé</category><category>Ana Saramago</category><category>Anka Zhuravleva</category><category>Anna Akhmátova</category><category>Antoine de Villiers</category><category>Antonio Gamoneda</category><category>António Paiva</category><category>Aram Nersisyan</category><category>Bia Martins</category><category>Briza</category><category>Bruno Kampel</category><category>Caderno de Notas</category><category>Caio Fernando Abreu</category><category>Casimiro de Brito</category><category>Chan Yee Von</category><category>Cherry Blossom</category><category>Christian Asuh</category><category>Clarice Lispector</category><category>Daniela Possamai</category><category>Daufen Bach</category><category>Dorina Costras</category><category>Elisa Lucinda</category><category>Eunice Boreal</category><category>Fernanda Carinci</category><category>Friedrich Nietzsche</category><category>Gabriele Fidalgo</category><category>Gonçalo Salvado</category><category>Guimarães Rosa</category><category>JLGacês</category><category>Jaya Magalhães</category><category>Joaquim Pessoa</category><category>Joelma Bittencourt</category><category>Jostein Gaarder</category><category>José Mario Silva</category><category>Judith Teixeira</category><category>Kabir</category><category>Katarzyna Rzeszowska. borboleta</category><category>L. de Paula</category><category>Lilás</category><category>Luisa Mee</category><category>Luís Miguel Nava</category><category>Lya Luft</category><category>Lígia Fagundes Telles</category><category>Ma vie in rose</category><category>Magnólia</category><category>Malloch</category><category>Manuel Alegre</category><category>Maria Azenha</category><category>Maria Gadú</category><category>Maria Sousa</category><category>Maria Teresa Horta</category><category>Maria do Rosário Pedreira</category><category>Mario Cesariny</category><category>Maya</category><category>Mia Couto</category><category>Miguel Torga</category><category>Mila Marquis</category><category>Mário Castrim</category><category>Natália Anson Lima</category><category>Natércia Freire</category><category>O que disse o João</category><category>Outono</category><category>Pantanal</category><category>Pedro Sena-Lino</category><category>Rodrigo Lodi</category><category>Rosa Lobato de Faria</category><category>Shira Sela</category><category>Silvia Pelissero</category><category>Série Diálogos</category><category>Tiago Bettencout</category><category>Torquato da Luz</category><category>Tushar Khandewal</category><category>William H. 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em mil possibilidades </description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>167</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-5679187148390685808</guid><pubDate>Sat, 18 Nov 2017 21:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-11-18T18:33:44.032-03:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Era uma vez laranja</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Ydeo Oga</category><title>Sobras em mim...</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6HTpeNKWQAw/WhCm3crpcuI/AAAAAAAFKdw/K_NvRTTqgzE0Ufm5qylqUQBCwXDeAbSKgCLcBGAs/s1600/sobras%2Bem%2Bmim.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="693" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6HTpeNKWQAw/WhCm3crpcuI/AAAAAAAFKdw/K_NvRTTqgzE0Ufm5qylqUQBCwXDeAbSKgCLcBGAs/s320/sobras%2Bem%2Bmim.jpg" width="246" /></a><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">teu todo que arde-me com tua pele incandescente…</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Ydeo Oga<br />*imagem: Tumblr</div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/11/sobras-em-mim.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6HTpeNKWQAw/WhCm3crpcuI/AAAAAAAFKdw/K_NvRTTqgzE0Ufm5qylqUQBCwXDeAbSKgCLcBGAs/s72-c/sobras%2Bem%2Bmim.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-5245847161238719302</guid><pubDate>Sun, 29 Oct 2017 22:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-10-29T19:58:01.938-03:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Alice Ruiz</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">flor</category><title>inauguraçãorr</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oxb_Yf7eK0k/WfZcHfezTmI/AAAAAAAFKCU/LusgCgR9ZYIoHMMEJuJpWTVDL7ET7Dm_gCLcBGAs/s1600/Inaugura%25C3%25A7%25C3%25A3o.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="542" data-original-width="673" height="257" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oxb_Yf7eK0k/WfZcHfezTmI/AAAAAAAFKCU/LusgCgR9ZYIoHMMEJuJpWTVDL7ET7Dm_gCLcBGAs/s320/Inaugura%25C3%25A7%25C3%25A3o.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">te procuro</div><div style="text-align: center;">nas coisas boas</div><div style="text-align: center;">em nenhuma</div><div style="text-align: center;">te encontro inteiro</div><div style="text-align: center;">em cada uma</div><div style="text-align: center;">te inauguro.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Alice Ruiz</div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/10/inauguracaorr.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oxb_Yf7eK0k/WfZcHfezTmI/AAAAAAAFKCU/LusgCgR9ZYIoHMMEJuJpWTVDL7ET7Dm_gCLcBGAs/s72-c/Inaugura%25C3%25A7%25C3%25A3o.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-370952302828739581</guid><pubDate>Sat, 28 Oct 2017 23:02:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-10-28T20:02:01.170-03:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Anka Zhuravleva</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Briza</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Devaneios</category><title>Do que não é teu</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nGnIaFWPzDA/WfUMBcIujxI/AAAAAAAFJ_g/KUxvU6Yh4kQEgO2xdtPze9_Pg-ZqWW74gCLcBGAs/s1600/do%2Bque%2Bn%25C3%25A3o%2B%25C3%25A9%2Bteu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="700" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nGnIaFWPzDA/WfUMBcIujxI/AAAAAAAFJ_g/KUxvU6Yh4kQEgO2xdtPze9_Pg-ZqWW74gCLcBGAs/s320/do%2Bque%2Bn%25C3%25A3o%2B%25C3%25A9%2Bteu.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Aí, me veio a lembrança daquela rua que terminava numa escadaria por onde não passo mais.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Tive a impressão de caminhar lá contigo.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Só que nesse tempo, nem sonhava com a tua existência.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Primeiro, achei engraçado. Depois, triste.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Não é direito roubar lembranças que não são tuas. Não é.</div><div style="text-align: center;">O presente já é tão grande e tão teu.</div><div style="text-align: center;">O antes não. O antes não compartilho.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Briza<br />*fotografia: Anka Zhuravleva</div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/10/do-que-nao-e-teu.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nGnIaFWPzDA/WfUMBcIujxI/AAAAAAAFJ_g/KUxvU6Yh4kQEgO2xdtPze9_Pg-ZqWW74gCLcBGAs/s72-c/do%2Bque%2Bn%25C3%25A3o%2B%25C3%25A9%2Bteu.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-2048793637084191093</guid><pubDate>Sat, 28 Oct 2017 22:48:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-10-28T19:48:21.493-03:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">As Marias</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">ave</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Maria Azenha</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">tucano</category><title>Para iluminar o vento...</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-radmI_9iuCU/WfUJA1p3I6I/AAAAAAAFJ_U/27O_1K1rJeo8f8d8MCo2nY4m1bTNY3w_gCLcBGAs/s1600/para%2Biluminar%2Bo%2Bvento.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="759" data-original-width="926" height="262" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-radmI_9iuCU/WfUJA1p3I6I/AAAAAAAFJ_U/27O_1K1rJeo8f8d8MCo2nY4m1bTNY3w_gCLcBGAs/s320/para%2Biluminar%2Bo%2Bvento.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">fica em silêncio</div><div style="text-align: center;">a palavra aguarda um pássaro</div><div style="text-align: center;">no teu coração</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Maria Azenha.</div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/10/para-iluminar-o-vento.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-radmI_9iuCU/WfUJA1p3I6I/AAAAAAAFJ_U/27O_1K1rJeo8f8d8MCo2nY4m1bTNY3w_gCLcBGAs/s72-c/para%2Biluminar%2Bo%2Bvento.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-8766728031866106362</guid><pubDate>Sun, 15 Oct 2017 23:53:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-10-15T20:53:53.884-03:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Chico Buarque</category><title>Demente...</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v-SZWNRGzx4/WeP0si6z-YI/AAAAAAAFJiA/VMDOeUfPbbQ84afHR1sO8NnOFMgAnZkTQCLcBGAs/s1600/Demente....JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="926" data-original-width="567" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v-SZWNRGzx4/WeP0si6z-YI/AAAAAAAFJiA/VMDOeUfPbbQ84afHR1sO8NnOFMgAnZkTQCLcBGAs/s320/Demente....JPG" width="195" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0000ee;"><u><br /></u></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><u><br /></u></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Inventa cada carícia…</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Chico Buarque</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/10/demente.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v-SZWNRGzx4/WeP0si6z-YI/AAAAAAAFJiA/VMDOeUfPbbQ84afHR1sO8NnOFMgAnZkTQCLcBGAs/s72-c/Demente....JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-8786365750182360745</guid><pubDate>Sun, 15 Oct 2017 23:46:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-10-15T20:46:04.496-03:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">dos corações que vejo</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Herberto Helder</category><title>e o coração é uma semente inventada </title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5rdq7H3ixTs/WePykDIYTaI/AAAAAAAFJh0/ddx4kbO3t-c-uT1ysOW8z_sRPFzXi7LPgCLcBGAs/s1600/e%2Bo%2Bcora%25C3%25A7%25C3%25A3o%2B%25C3%25A9%2Buma%2Bcar%25C3%25ADcia%2Binventada.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="874" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5rdq7H3ixTs/WePykDIYTaI/AAAAAAAFJh0/ddx4kbO3t-c-uT1ysOW8z_sRPFzXi7LPgCLcBGAs/s320/e%2Bo%2Bcora%25C3%25A7%25C3%25A3o%2B%25C3%25A9%2Buma%2Bcar%25C3%25ADcia%2Binventada.JPG" width="273" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Não sei como dizer-te que minha voz te procura</div><div style="text-align: center;">e a atenção começa a florir, quando sucede a noite</div><div style="text-align: center;">esplêndida e vasta.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Não sei o que dizer, quando longamente teus pulsos</div><div style="text-align: center;">se enchem de um brilho precioso</div><div style="text-align: center;">e estremeces como um pensamento chegado.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Quando, iniciado o campo, o centeio imaturo ondula tocado</div><div style="text-align: center;">pelo pressentir de um tempo distante,</div><div style="text-align: center;">e na terra crescida os homens entoam a vindima</div><div style="text-align: center;">– eu não sei como dizer-te que cem ideias,</div><div style="text-align: center;">dentro de mim, te procuram.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Quando as folhas da melancolia arrefecem com astros</div><div style="text-align: center;">ao lado do espaço</div><div style="text-align: center;">e o coração é uma semente inventada</div><div style="text-align: center;">em seu escuro fundo e em seu turbilhão de um dia,</div><div style="text-align: center;">tu arrebatas os caminhos da minha solidão</div><div style="text-align: center;">como se toda a casa ardesse pousada na noite.</div><div style="text-align: center;">– E então não sei o que dizer</div><div style="text-align: center;">junto à taça de pedra do teu tão jovem silêncio.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Quando as crianças acordam nas luas espantadas</div><div style="text-align: center;">que às vezes se despenham no meio do tempo</div><div style="text-align: center;">– não sei como dizer-te que a pureza,</div><div style="text-align: center;">dentro de mim, te procura.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Durante a primavera inteira aprendo</div><div style="text-align: center;">os trevos, a água sobrenatural, o leve e abstrato</div><div style="text-align: center;">correr do espaço –</div><div style="text-align: center;">e penso que vou dizer algo cheio de razão,</div><div style="text-align: center;">mas quando a sombra cai da curva sôfrega</div><div style="text-align: center;">dos meus lábios, sinto que me faltam</div><div style="text-align: center;">um girassol, uma pedra, uma ave – qualquer</div><div style="text-align: center;">coisa extraordinária.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Porque não sei como dizer-te sem milagres</div><div style="text-align: center;">que dentro de mim é o sol, o fruto,</div><div style="text-align: center;">a criança, a água, o deus, o leite, a mãe,</div><div style="text-align: center;">o amor,</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">que te procuram.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Herberto Helder</div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/10/e-o-coracao-e-uma-semente-inventada.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5rdq7H3ixTs/WePykDIYTaI/AAAAAAAFJh0/ddx4kbO3t-c-uT1ysOW8z_sRPFzXi7LPgCLcBGAs/s72-c/e%2Bo%2Bcora%25C3%25A7%25C3%25A3o%2B%25C3%25A9%2Buma%2Bcar%25C3%25ADcia%2Binventada.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-7036171001950694652</guid><pubDate>Sun, 15 Oct 2017 23:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-10-15T20:41:03.273-03:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">joaninha</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Kha Tembe</category><title>Carícia</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AP9LLNqqt-U/WePxcTAORXI/AAAAAAAFJhs/oQsJ7YSIgro9N4jkiYDmdoWeeNAm-9hmwCLcBGAs/s1600/car%25C3%25ADcia.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="723" data-original-width="565" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AP9LLNqqt-U/WePxcTAORXI/AAAAAAAFJhs/oQsJ7YSIgro9N4jkiYDmdoWeeNAm-9hmwCLcBGAs/s320/car%25C3%25ADcia.JPG" width="250" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">és a minha carícia.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Kha Tembe</div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/10/caepicia.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AP9LLNqqt-U/WePxcTAORXI/AAAAAAAFJhs/oQsJ7YSIgro9N4jkiYDmdoWeeNAm-9hmwCLcBGAs/s72-c/car%25C3%25ADcia.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-3139705749217124972</guid><pubDate>Sun, 15 Oct 2017 23:35:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-10-15T20:35:38.883-03:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Antonio Gamoneda</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Ar Líquido</category><title>Destino</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NgZm5mCS6kk/WePwYLU8dCI/AAAAAAAFJhk/ymjg9h7oS_0l9EBXlj1bzJsMlt2Y2L9GACLcBGAs/s1600/destino.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="727" data-original-width="1039" height="223" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NgZm5mCS6kk/WePwYLU8dCI/AAAAAAAFJhk/ymjg9h7oS_0l9EBXlj1bzJsMlt2Y2L9GACLcBGAs/s320/destino.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0000ee;"><u><br /></u></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0000ee;"><u><br /></u></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">isto era o destino:&nbsp;</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">chegar à margem</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">e ter medo da quietude da água.&nbsp;</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">Antonio Gamoneda</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /></div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/10/destino.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NgZm5mCS6kk/WePwYLU8dCI/AAAAAAAFJhk/ymjg9h7oS_0l9EBXlj1bzJsMlt2Y2L9GACLcBGAs/s72-c/destino.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-5632241176933871814</guid><pubDate>Thu, 12 Oct 2017 18:04:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-10-12T14:04:24.811-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">dos corações que vejo</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Jaya Magalhães</category><title>Era sempre assim....</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VrfNvXxHa6w/Wd-ueEqMmlI/AAAAAAAFJbI/siWPvVskstAjo7XCdWEujVuMKxWxvZQpgCLcBGAs/s1600/Era%2Bsempre%2Bassim....JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="814" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VrfNvXxHa6w/Wd-ueEqMmlI/AAAAAAAFJbI/siWPvVskstAjo7XCdWEujVuMKxWxvZQpgCLcBGAs/s320/Era%2Bsempre%2Bassim....JPG" width="221" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">depois do abraço, ninguém notava, mas voltávamos trocados:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">um levando o coração do outro.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Jaya Magalhães</div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/10/era-sempre-assim.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VrfNvXxHa6w/Wd-ueEqMmlI/AAAAAAAFJbI/siWPvVskstAjo7XCdWEujVuMKxWxvZQpgCLcBGAs/s72-c/Era%2Bsempre%2Bassim....JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-1408818982478071435</guid><pubDate>Mon, 18 Sep 2017 00:22:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-09-17T20:22:00.522-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Agripina Roxo</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">flor</category><title>Acordei com vontade de lhe dar meu olhar</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AHQwhh-czTk/Wb8RXd57zQI/AAAAAAAFIuA/IUQh4frfvcwrIk6XxCwajE2lHu-4cAqgQCLcBGAs/s1600/Acordei%2Bcom%2Bvontade%2Bde%2Blhe%2Bdar%2Bmeu%2Bolhar..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="731" data-original-width="610" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AHQwhh-czTk/Wb8RXd57zQI/AAAAAAAFIuA/IUQh4frfvcwrIk6XxCwajE2lHu-4cAqgQCLcBGAs/s320/Acordei%2Bcom%2Bvontade%2Bde%2Blhe%2Bdar%2Bmeu%2Bolhar..jpg" width="267" /></a><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />Quero ser uma asa demorada</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Prolongar-me no teu beijo cincunflexo,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">no teu voo sempre ausente</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">de pássaro em queda</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">E bico-te os dedos lentos</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">E engulo-te o sexo cansado</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">enquanto as mãos se perdem</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">por entre crateras do teu sal</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">E sou uma lua desvairada</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">uma órbita torcida</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">desse teu corpo enviesado</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">desse teu astro arrevesado</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Agripina Roxo</div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/09/acordei-com-vontade-de-lhe-dar-meu-olhar.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AHQwhh-czTk/Wb8RXd57zQI/AAAAAAAFIuA/IUQh4frfvcwrIk6XxCwajE2lHu-4cAqgQCLcBGAs/s72-c/Acordei%2Bcom%2Bvontade%2Bde%2Blhe%2Bdar%2Bmeu%2Bolhar..jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-2198864717566985226</guid><pubDate>Mon, 18 Sep 2017 00:17:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-09-17T20:17:38.742-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">beija-flor</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Chiquinho</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Via Lunar</category><title>E sou essa lua desvairada</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JCsp02y1-IM/Wb8QOY01uxI/AAAAAAAFIts/k2CmmfTNXmclDKUwJiuhNhuX6B7Ngw27ACLcBGAs/s1600/E%2Bsou%2Buma%2Blua%2Bdesvairada.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1020" data-original-width="574" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JCsp02y1-IM/Wb8QOY01uxI/AAAAAAAFIts/k2CmmfTNXmclDKUwJiuhNhuX6B7Ngw27ACLcBGAs/s320/E%2Bsou%2Buma%2Blua%2Bdesvairada.JPG" width="180" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Quero ser uma asa demorada</div><div style="text-align: center;">Prolongar-me no teu beijo cincunflexo,</div><div style="text-align: center;">no teu voo sempre ausente</div><div style="text-align: center;">de pássaro em queda</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">E bico-te os dedos lentos</div><div style="text-align: center;">E engulo-te o sexo cansado</div><div style="text-align: center;">enquanto as mãos se perdem</div><div style="text-align: center;">por entre crateras do teu sal</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">E sou uma lua desvairada</div><div style="text-align: center;">uma órbita torcida</div><div style="text-align: center;">desse teu corpo enviesado</div><div style="text-align: center;">desse teu astro arrevesado</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Agripina Roxo</div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/09/e-sou-essa-lua-desvairada.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JCsp02y1-IM/Wb8QOY01uxI/AAAAAAAFIts/k2CmmfTNXmclDKUwJiuhNhuX6B7Ngw27ACLcBGAs/s72-c/E%2Bsou%2Buma%2Blua%2Bdesvairada.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-3833795346163297277</guid><pubDate>Mon, 18 Sep 2017 00:10:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-09-17T20:10:44.048-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">As Marias</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">joaninha</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Maria Borges</category><title>A estranha que vive em mim</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H0_A0bjbS8U/Wb8OvlSLAXI/AAAAAAAFItY/KQD8dXRrSI8JcJ2ZkjNucX1--4ReBvMLwCLcBGAs/s1600/a%2Bestranha%2Bque%2Bvive%2Bem%2Bmim...%2B.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="705" data-original-width="482" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H0_A0bjbS8U/Wb8OvlSLAXI/AAAAAAAFItY/KQD8dXRrSI8JcJ2ZkjNucX1--4ReBvMLwCLcBGAs/s320/a%2Bestranha%2Bque%2Bvive%2Bem%2Bmim...%2B.JPG" width="218" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br />Depois de todas as loucuras</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">repetidamente imaginadas</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">(deliciosamente repetidas…) ,</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">surge essa desconcertante sanidade</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">e eu encontro, deitada no seu peito,</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">tranquila como quem ama,</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">a estranha que vive em mim…<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Maria Borges</div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/09/a-estranha-que-vive-em-mim.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H0_A0bjbS8U/Wb8OvlSLAXI/AAAAAAAFItY/KQD8dXRrSI8JcJ2ZkjNucX1--4ReBvMLwCLcBGAs/s72-c/a%2Bestranha%2Bque%2Bvive%2Bem%2Bmim...%2B.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-7124870889790725312</guid><pubDate>Sun, 10 Sep 2017 22:45:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-09-10T18:45:41.280-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Ar Líquido</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">JLGacês</category><title>Onde o vértice é água</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kwbsFNSvLNA/WbW_gJPUw8I/AAAAAAAFIm8/-uCEsfGwfb0mX-AdNPCvlWrBBnhEg4e3gCLcBGAs/s1600/onde%2Bo%2Bv%25C3%25A9rtice%2B%25C3%25A9%2Bde%2B%25C3%25A1gua.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="625" data-original-width="653" height="306" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kwbsFNSvLNA/WbW_gJPUw8I/AAAAAAAFIm8/-uCEsfGwfb0mX-AdNPCvlWrBBnhEg4e3gCLcBGAs/s320/onde%2Bo%2Bv%25C3%25A9rtice%2B%25C3%25A9%2Bde%2B%25C3%25A1gua.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">O deslizar suave da boca até à fonte</div><div style="text-align: center;">onde o vértice é de água.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">JL Garcês</div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/09/onde-o-vertice-e-agua.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kwbsFNSvLNA/WbW_gJPUw8I/AAAAAAAFIm8/-uCEsfGwfb0mX-AdNPCvlWrBBnhEg4e3gCLcBGAs/s72-c/onde%2Bo%2Bv%25C3%25A9rtice%2B%25C3%25A9%2Bde%2B%25C3%25A1gua.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-7744097288726141488</guid><pubDate>Sun, 10 Sep 2017 13:28:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-09-10T09:28:07.757-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Judith Teixeira</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">vitrine</category><title>O amante</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P43fNRSqJ9g/WbU9rTH8pJI/AAAAAAAFImY/24CNJHJYLk0rRtBmwzrjEGoghXR8K48wwCLcBGAs/s1600/O%2Bamante.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="483" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P43fNRSqJ9g/WbU9rTH8pJI/AAAAAAAFImY/24CNJHJYLk0rRtBmwzrjEGoghXR8K48wwCLcBGAs/s320/O%2Bamante.jpg" width="205" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Dizem que eu tenho amores contigo!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Deixa-os dizer!…</div><div style="text-align: center;">Eles sabem lá o que há de sublime</div><div style="text-align: center;">Nos meus sonhos de prazer…</div><div style="text-align: center;">De madrugada, logo ao despertar,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Há quem me tenha ouvido gritar</div><div style="text-align: center;">Pelo teu nome…</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Dizem – e eu não protesto –</div><div style="text-align: center;">Que seja qual for</div><div style="text-align: center;">o meu aspecto</div><div style="text-align: center;">tu estás</div><div style="text-align: center;">na minha fisionomia</div><div style="text-align: center;">e no meu gesto!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Dizem que eu me embriago toda em cores</div><div style="text-align: center;">Para te esquecer…</div><div style="text-align: center;">E que de noite pelos corredores</div><div style="text-align: center;">Quando vou passando para te ir buscar,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Levo risos de louca, no olhar!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Não entendem dos meus amores contigo –</div><div style="text-align: center;">Não entendem deste luar de beijos…</div><div style="text-align: center;">– Há quem lhe chame a tara perversa,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Dum ser destrambelhado e sensual!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Chamam-te o génio do mal –</div><div style="text-align: center;">O meu castigo…</div><div style="text-align: center;">E eu em sombras alheio-me dispersa…</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">E ninguém sabe que é de ti que eu vivo…</div><div style="text-align: center;">Que és tu que doiras ainda,</div><div style="text-align: center;">O meu castelo em ruína…</div><div style="text-align: center;">Que fazes da hora má, a hora linda</div><div style="text-align: center;">Dos meus sonhos voluptuosos –</div><div style="text-align: center;">Não faltes aos meus apelos dolorosos</div><div style="text-align: center;">– Adormenta esta dor que me domina!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Judith Teixeira</div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/09/o-amante.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-P43fNRSqJ9g/WbU9rTH8pJI/AAAAAAAFImY/24CNJHJYLk0rRtBmwzrjEGoghXR8K48wwCLcBGAs/s72-c/O%2Bamante.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-2090900159022949922</guid><pubDate>Sun, 10 Sep 2017 13:24:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-09-10T09:24:52.698-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">dos corações que vejo</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">joaninha</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Van Luchiari</category><title>Cada vez mais...</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x0Z6CFsyUFE/WbU89YTU32I/AAAAAAAFImM/bFxMlCz17noqpT4baVxLt60DhP5Cz6ecQCLcBGAs/s1600/Cada%2Bvez%2Bmais.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="757" data-original-width="511" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x0Z6CFsyUFE/WbU89YTU32I/AAAAAAAFImM/bFxMlCz17noqpT4baVxLt60DhP5Cz6ecQCLcBGAs/s320/Cada%2Bvez%2Bmais.JPG" width="216" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Desaprendo chãos e aprendo asas…</div><div style="text-align: center;">Que posso fazer se meu coração voa?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Van Luchiari</div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/09/cada-vez-mais.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x0Z6CFsyUFE/WbU89YTU32I/AAAAAAAFImM/bFxMlCz17noqpT4baVxLt60DhP5Cz6ecQCLcBGAs/s72-c/Cada%2Bvez%2Bmais.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-8988247061890522548</guid><pubDate>Sun, 10 Sep 2017 00:31:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-09-09T20:31:17.445-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Lígia Fagundes Telles</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Via Lunar</category><title>Tão lua</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pG3lq86BNCE/WbSHnUsHTKI/AAAAAAAFIlE/BzLQZD2ERvI7LsD9uCqkFvmeKmBmzqtwACLcBGAs/s1600/T%25C3%25A3o%2Blua.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="503" data-original-width="634" height="253" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pG3lq86BNCE/WbSHnUsHTKI/AAAAAAAFIlE/BzLQZD2ERvI7LsD9uCqkFvmeKmBmzqtwACLcBGAs/s320/T%25C3%25A3o%2Blua.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Saiu.</div><div style="text-align: center;">A noite estava fria, mas belíssima.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Achou a lua enorme e pensou em compará-la a alguma coisa,</div><div style="text-align: center;">mas desistiu: parecia lua mesmo,</div><div style="text-align: center;">talvez nunca parecesse tão lua quanto naquela noite.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Lígia Fagundes Telles</div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/09/tao-lua.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pG3lq86BNCE/WbSHnUsHTKI/AAAAAAAFIlE/BzLQZD2ERvI7LsD9uCqkFvmeKmBmzqtwACLcBGAs/s72-c/T%25C3%25A3o%2Blua.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-5791060584126714064</guid><pubDate>Sun, 10 Sep 2017 00:27:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-09-09T20:27:49.576-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">azaleia</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Jostein Gaarder</category><title>O néctar das rosas púrpuras</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pfHe9Wjo2sU/WbSGx0dClFI/AAAAAAAFIk8/pcmXD9QCsRIZPLOo-15qfDuAu0PYQJ7GQCLcBGAs/s1600/O%2Bn%25C3%25A9ctar%2Bdas%2Brosas%2Bp%25C3%25BArpuras.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="692" data-original-width="716" height="309" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pfHe9Wjo2sU/WbSGx0dClFI/AAAAAAAFIk8/pcmXD9QCsRIZPLOo-15qfDuAu0PYQJ7GQCLcBGAs/s320/O%2Bn%25C3%25A9ctar%2Bdas%2Brosas%2Bp%25C3%25BArpuras.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Inventei uma bebida que chamei de púrpura.</div><div style="text-align: center;">É uma bebida que tem um efeito maravilhoso no corpo inteiro…</div><div style="text-align: center;">(…)</div><div style="text-align: center;">Para preparar essa bebida uso o néctar das rosas púrpuras…Nascem em pequenos buquês…</div><div style="text-align: center;">A bebida púrpura não deixa os seus gostos apenas na boca,mas em cada fibra do corpo.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">(O Dia do Coringa)</div><div style="text-align: center;">Jostein Gaarder</div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/09/o-nectar-das-rosas-purpuras.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pfHe9Wjo2sU/WbSGx0dClFI/AAAAAAAFIk8/pcmXD9QCsRIZPLOo-15qfDuAu0PYQJ7GQCLcBGAs/s72-c/O%2Bn%25C3%25A9ctar%2Bdas%2Brosas%2Bp%25C3%25BArpuras.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-5317160514305877820</guid><pubDate>Sun, 10 Sep 2017 00:24:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-09-09T20:24:30.475-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Ar Líquido</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Líria Porto</category><title>Ávido</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M1TOZa1L1kk/WbSGAGWrF9I/AAAAAAAFIk4/3KIAm9zx29UPa1gxUgfYX82OOOeHn2dYQCLcBGAs/s1600/%25C3%25A1vido.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="669" data-original-width="1024" height="209" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M1TOZa1L1kk/WbSGAGWrF9I/AAAAAAAFIk4/3KIAm9zx29UPa1gxUgfYX82OOOeHn2dYQCLcBGAs/s320/%25C3%25A1vido.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">tenho a sede do mar – aquela de beber todos os rios</div><div style="text-align: center;">e continuar inquieto com tanto sal na saliva</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Líria Porto</div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/09/avido.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-M1TOZa1L1kk/WbSGAGWrF9I/AAAAAAAFIk4/3KIAm9zx29UPa1gxUgfYX82OOOeHn2dYQCLcBGAs/s72-c/%25C3%25A1vido.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-8409346360703705036</guid><pubDate>Sun, 10 Sep 2017 00:15:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-09-09T20:15:31.552-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Manoel de Barros</category><title>Difícil fotografar o silêncio</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8OtGXSnrRQ0/WbSEAUNTnBI/AAAAAAAFIko/48p7rCbteNM12nLwJJWK0qmNtWg8BuFtACLcBGAs/s1600/Dif%25C3%25ADcil%2Bfotografar%2Bo%2Bsil%25C3%25AAncio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="507" data-original-width="707" height="229" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8OtGXSnrRQ0/WbSEAUNTnBI/AAAAAAAFIko/48p7rCbteNM12nLwJJWK0qmNtWg8BuFtACLcBGAs/s320/Dif%25C3%25ADcil%2Bfotografar%2Bo%2Bsil%25C3%25AAncio.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br />É que o silêncio faz um barulho danado em minh’alma.<br />“Difícil fotografar o silêncio. Entretanto tentei.<br />Eu conto: Madrugada, a minha aldeia estava morta. Não se via ou ouvia um barulho, ninguém passava entre as casas. Eu estava saindo de uma festa, eram quase quatro da manhã. Ia o silêncio pela rua carregando um bêbado.<br />Preparei minha máquina. O silêncio era um carregador? Estava carregando o bêbado. Fotografei esse carregador.<br />Tive outras visões naquela madrugada. Preparei minha máquina de novo. Tinha um perfume de jasmim no beiral do sobrado. Fotografei o perfume. Vi uma lesma pregada na existência mais do que na pedra. Fotografei a existência dela. Vi ainda um azul-perdão no olho de um mendigo. Fotografei o perdão. Olhei uma paisagem velha a desabar sobre uma casa. Fotografei o sobre. Foi difícil fotografar o sobre. Por fim eu enxerguei a nuvem de calça. Representou pra mim que ela andava na aldeia de braços com maiakoviski – seu criador. Fotografei a nuvem de calça e o poeta. Ninguém outro poeta no mundo faria uma roupa mais justa para cobrir sua noiva.<br />A foto saiu legal” –<br /><br />Manoel de Barros</description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/09/dificil-fotografar-o-silencio.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8OtGXSnrRQ0/WbSEAUNTnBI/AAAAAAAFIko/48p7rCbteNM12nLwJJWK0qmNtWg8BuFtACLcBGAs/s72-c/Dif%25C3%25ADcil%2Bfotografar%2Bo%2Bsil%25C3%25AAncio.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-6330978548192006316</guid><pubDate>Sun, 10 Sep 2017 00:09:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-09-09T20:09:08.597-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Herberto Helder</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">joaninha</category><title>Sob os anéis dos astros</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IO9wjsM2EnM/WbSCPnWsm_I/AAAAAAAFIkc/uU8vbHI3TkgI_NRlMITjOMarfNPAW1yYACLcBGAs/s1600/sob%2Bos%2Ban%25C3%25A9is%2Bdos%2Bastros.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="570" data-original-width="748" height="243" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IO9wjsM2EnM/WbSCPnWsm_I/AAAAAAAFIkc/uU8vbHI3TkgI_NRlMITjOMarfNPAW1yYACLcBGAs/s320/sob%2Bos%2Ban%25C3%25A9is%2Bdos%2Bastros.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">fecharia os olhos sob os anéis dos astros</div><div style="text-align: center;">e entre os violinos e os fortes poços da noite,</div><div style="text-align: center;">descobriria a ardente ideia da minha vida.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Herberto Helder</div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/09/sob-os-aneis-dos-astros.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IO9wjsM2EnM/WbSCPnWsm_I/AAAAAAAFIkc/uU8vbHI3TkgI_NRlMITjOMarfNPAW1yYACLcBGAs/s72-c/sob%2Bos%2Ban%25C3%25A9is%2Bdos%2Bastros.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-3591179257579782365</guid><pubDate>Sun, 10 Sep 2017 00:05:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-09-09T20:05:21.994-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">joaninha</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Luís Miguel Nava</category><title>Memória</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jWT5QNPwD5Y/WbSBlUdQaVI/AAAAAAAFIkY/hRgOFwbo2ZYvOBZnaykuzdNT5t6rN7iHwCLcBGAs/s1600/Mem%25C3%25B3ria.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="549" data-original-width="668" height="262" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jWT5QNPwD5Y/WbSBlUdQaVI/AAAAAAAFIkY/hRgOFwbo2ZYvOBZnaykuzdNT5t6rN7iHwCLcBGAs/s320/Mem%25C3%25B3ria.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Os dedos com que me tocaste</div><div style="text-align: center;">persistem sob a pele, onde a memória os move.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Luis Miguel Nava</div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/09/memoria.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jWT5QNPwD5Y/WbSBlUdQaVI/AAAAAAAFIkY/hRgOFwbo2ZYvOBZnaykuzdNT5t6rN7iHwCLcBGAs/s72-c/Mem%25C3%25B3ria.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-8083784299717895509</guid><pubDate>Fri, 08 Sep 2017 12:20:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-09-08T08:20:58.888-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">abelha</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">ahcravo</category><title>Apiário</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xCxkDLvdKfg/WbKK82UoM_I/AAAAAAAFIhM/8EzRxU3qNkMOhx_UwhCEbPD2mco_C81igCLcBGAs/s1600/api%25C3%25A1rio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="555" data-original-width="703" height="252" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xCxkDLvdKfg/WbKK82UoM_I/AAAAAAAFIhM/8EzRxU3qNkMOhx_UwhCEbPD2mco_C81igCLcBGAs/s320/api%25C3%25A1rio.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">desfolhar-te pétala a pétala</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">e procurar no pólen</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">a justificação do mel</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">(insinuações de abelha)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">ahcravo</div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/09/apiario.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xCxkDLvdKfg/WbKK82UoM_I/AAAAAAAFIhM/8EzRxU3qNkMOhx_UwhCEbPD2mco_C81igCLcBGAs/s72-c/api%25C3%25A1rio.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-1784144472226343125</guid><pubDate>Fri, 08 Sep 2017 12:01:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-09-08T08:01:47.049-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Alma</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Katarzyna Rzeszowska. borboleta</category><title>Sê amor comigo</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n4Vr43Z3K4I/WbKGW3KbRNI/AAAAAAAFIg8/YoBbYrGeVaQo8l46AorckSYubrs0kPSogCLcBGAs/s1600/S%25C3%25AA%2Bamor%2Bcomigo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="720" height="213" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n4Vr43Z3K4I/WbKGW3KbRNI/AAAAAAAFIg8/YoBbYrGeVaQo8l46AorckSYubrs0kPSogCLcBGAs/s320/S%25C3%25AA%2Bamor%2Bcomigo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Sê amor comigo</div><div style="text-align: center;">fala-me de Amor ao ouvido, em silêncio.</div><div style="text-align: center;">sê esse sussurro terno que me arrepia a pele sem toque mas com a verdade toda e inteira da tua alma.</div><div style="text-align: center;">o mundo não precisa de saber de nós, do desejo, da paixão-conquista num entrelaçar rápido de olhares e de dedos…</div><div style="text-align: center;">conjuga só para mim esse verbo que repetes sem cessar, não ao mundo, mas em mim, como pedra cinzelando, gravando a carne, despertando a vontade e o desejo de outrora…</div><div style="text-align: center;">(…)</div><div style="text-align: center;">… e sinto que me esvaio por entre os teus dedos.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Alma</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*imagem: Katarzyna Rzeszowska</div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/09/se-amor-comigo.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n4Vr43Z3K4I/WbKGW3KbRNI/AAAAAAAFIg8/YoBbYrGeVaQo8l46AorckSYubrs0kPSogCLcBGAs/s72-c/S%25C3%25AA%2Bamor%2Bcomigo.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-666110810622442384</guid><pubDate>Fri, 08 Sep 2017 11:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-09-08T07:58:50.919-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Ana Salomé</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">flor</category><title>Arrepia</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-si-WupaBidE/WbKFdoybHwI/AAAAAAAFIgk/mSOL7PNhlboMx6PIPmq0Az10g5nsZafMwCLcBGAs/s1600/Arrepia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="711" data-original-width="580" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-si-WupaBidE/WbKFdoybHwI/AAAAAAAFIgk/mSOL7PNhlboMx6PIPmq0Az10g5nsZafMwCLcBGAs/s320/Arrepia.jpg" width="261" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">arrepia</div><div style="text-align: center;">só de pensar que respiras</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Ana Salomé</div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/09/arrepia.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-si-WupaBidE/WbKFdoybHwI/AAAAAAAFIgk/mSOL7PNhlboMx6PIPmq0Az10g5nsZafMwCLcBGAs/s72-c/Arrepia.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5237676624550843237.post-3178501069020538703</guid><pubDate>Fri, 08 Sep 2017 11:55:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2017-09-08T07:55:16.535-04:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Albano Martins</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">azul</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">joaninha</category><title>As manhãs ou seu imprevisto de azul</title><description><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RNde5BR3Ark/WbKE9DpbOOI/AAAAAAAFIgc/HSwvIYQVsPEjdoYYrAiSrn0JfXVYgjvGACLcBGAs/s1600/as%2Bmanh%25C3%25A3s%2Bou%2Bseu%2Bimprevisto%2Bno%2Bazul.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="970" data-original-width="735" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RNde5BR3Ark/WbKE9DpbOOI/AAAAAAAFIgc/HSwvIYQVsPEjdoYYrAiSrn0JfXVYgjvGACLcBGAs/s320/as%2Bmanh%25C3%25A3s%2Bou%2Bseu%2Bimprevisto%2Bno%2Bazul.JPG" width="242" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Tarde</div><div style="text-align: center;">regressam</div><div style="text-align: center;">as manhãs</div><div style="text-align: center;">ou seu</div><div style="text-align: center;">imprevisto azul.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Cedo</div><div style="text-align: center;">se colhe</div><div style="text-align: center;">o cintilante</div><div style="text-align: center;">e frágil</div><div style="text-align: center;">perfume das laranjas.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Albano Martins</div><div style="text-align: center;">in ‘Paralelo ao vento’</div></description><link>http://meggouveia.blogspot.com/2017/09/as-manhas-ou-seu-imprevisto-de-azul.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Mariana Gouveia)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RNde5BR3Ark/WbKE9DpbOOI/AAAAAAAFIgc/HSwvIYQVsPEjdoYYrAiSrn0JfXVYgjvGACLcBGAs/s72-c/as%2Bmanh%25C3%25A3s%2Bou%2Bseu%2Bimprevisto%2Bno%2Bazul.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item></channel></rss>If you would like to create a banner that links to this page (i.e. this validation result), do the following:
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