<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922</id><updated>2012-02-16T09:42:38.407-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Poética</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>221</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-7999596940363270015</id><published>2012-02-01T04:32:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2012-02-01T04:46:06.445-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>vem redemoinho, pai
vento de temporal
tempo cheio de dedos
vai levar toda certeza
maldizer dos sonhos meus

eu aqui na menineza
tenho medo de rodar
nas ondas fartas de mar
virar cantiga, paizinho
pra brincar melhor a vida</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/7999596940363270015/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=7999596940363270015&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7999596940363270015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7999596940363270015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2012/02/vem-redemoinho-pai-vento-de-temporal.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-4660593025855271751</id><published>2012-01-13T15:11:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2012-01-13T15:11:34.114-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>tudo previsível como uma penteadeira

beijos gastaram todo o batom
mas restou o sangue 
volúpia ardente na página daquele livro
respiro o teu perfume
quando a noite insiste em se fazer inteira
diante do espelho 
tudo é nu

(gavetas também não escolhem as lembranças)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/4660593025855271751/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=4660593025855271751&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/4660593025855271751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/4660593025855271751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2012/01/tudo-previsivel-como-uma-penteadeira.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-3619583397316041073</id><published>2012-01-04T02:20:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2012-01-04T02:23:28.238-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Você estava tão perto
eu era capaz de adivinhar-lhe o peito
o cheiro de café e pó nas dobras da camisa
o redemoninho moreno, suas ideias

Você estava tão perto
que bastaria um gesto pra desfazer a ruína e o nó
um vento urbano suspirando na nuca
as palavras que me nego a repetir

Onde você esteve esse antes todo?
Se não era somente dentro de mim?</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/3619583397316041073/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=3619583397316041073&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3619583397316041073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3619583397316041073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2012/01/voce-estava-tao-perto-eu-era-capaz-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-7437632462360630020</id><published>2012-01-04T01:21:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2012-01-04T01:26:52.547-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>sigo as tuas palavras
segui teus passos
ainda susto
minha respiração

dilúvio das não-respostas
daquilo que nos foi roubado

como o sonho infantil de dia de Natal
como o verso do livro da cabeceira
como a flor 
devorando meus olhos tristes</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/7437632462360630020/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=7437632462360630020&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7437632462360630020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7437632462360630020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2012/01/sigo-as-tuas-palavras-segui-teus-passos.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-8793319145487668370</id><published>2012-01-03T23:08:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T23:09:48.704-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Foi quando fomos jovens que abrimos portas
e dentro delas paredes de espelhos
tornaram infinitos nossos desejos?

 *</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/8793319145487668370/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=8793319145487668370&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/8793319145487668370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/8793319145487668370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2012/01/foi-quando-fomos-jovens-que-abrimos.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-3318702152730965848</id><published>2011-12-29T01:10:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2011-12-29T01:11:01.940-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>é preciso lembrar para esquecer

não há cigarro que apague a dor
nem dor que não se torne cicatriz

(é tempo)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/3318702152730965848/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=3318702152730965848&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3318702152730965848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3318702152730965848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2011/12/e-preciso-lembrar-para-esquecer-nao-ha.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-574032535687776387</id><published>2011-12-01T17:29:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2011-12-01T17:29:31.569-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Juventude</title><summary type='text'>O que havia de mim esvaiu-seareia de ampulhetalevou aquilo que havia de sol
A peça de argila ocre relembra o soprosem temor por tornar-se pó</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/574032535687776387/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=574032535687776387&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/574032535687776387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/574032535687776387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2011/12/juventude.html' title='Juventude'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-329970538421219669</id><published>2011-11-28T22:15:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2011-11-28T22:15:49.795-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>E se eu te peço pra abrir a caixa -
e tirar de lá aquela flor
as gargalhadas
a madrugada vestindo meias
a ceia
mãos dadas
o grito
os primeiros passos e depois
a chave que não é minha
palavras nem ditas
o futuro 
tanta, tanta saudade
- será ainda presente?</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/329970538421219669/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=329970538421219669&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/329970538421219669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/329970538421219669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2011/11/e-se-eu-te-peco-pra-abrir-caixa-e-tirar.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-8719185076017370632</id><published>2011-10-16T16:18:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2011-10-16T16:18:30.571-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>as palavras nuas sobre o lençol
espelhavam os corpos
amantes
antes de o mundo pedir silêncio</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/8719185076017370632/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=8719185076017370632&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/8719185076017370632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/8719185076017370632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2011/10/as-palavras-nuas-sobre-o-lencol.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-1733229414252572335</id><published>2011-02-18T23:04:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2011-02-18T23:04:19.113-02:00</updated><title type='text'>posse</title><summary type='text'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;        &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;     Normal   0         21         false   false   false      PT-BR   X-NONE   X-NONE                                                                                             &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/1733229414252572335/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=1733229414252572335&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/1733229414252572335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/1733229414252572335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2011/02/posse.html' title='posse'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-2533008152482196200</id><published>2011-01-31T02:08:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T02:11:47.649-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>escorrega pelos vãos, felinaarranca do meu sumo a forçapara a sua escravidãomeus medos degusta cretinalambe as pontas dos dedossussurra então um segredoembaraça minha cabeçadepois ri feito cigana
a Poesia vadia pelo meu corpose mata é pra me fazer existir</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/2533008152482196200/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=2533008152482196200&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/2533008152482196200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/2533008152482196200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2011/01/normal-0-21-false-false-false-pt-br-x_31.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-1803836504728114615</id><published>2011-01-31T01:31:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T01:31:00.234-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;        &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;     Normal   0         21         false   false   false      PT-BR   X-NONE   X-NONE                                                                                                 &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/1803836504728114615/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=1803836504728114615&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/1803836504728114615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/1803836504728114615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2011/01/normal-0-21-false-false-false-pt-br-x.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-6844070336312558907</id><published>2010-11-03T22:26:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-03T22:35:34.225-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>a foto guardava a Travessia.
tão azul
que eu podia acreditar que era minha
tanto quanto aqueles dedos longos que despetalavam margaridas

naquele tempo o infinito ainda estava a meus pés</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/6844070336312558907/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=6844070336312558907&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6844070336312558907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6844070336312558907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2010/11/foto-guardava-travessia.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-7487396577956041885</id><published>2010-11-03T21:35:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2010-11-03T21:35:37.433-02:00</updated><title type='text'>teste</title><summary type='text'>teste  </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/7487396577956041885/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=7487396577956041885&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7487396577956041885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7487396577956041885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2010/11/teste.html' title='teste'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-1886098447503530177</id><published>2010-10-13T23:47:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-10-13T23:47:11.916-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Morrer um pouco</title><summary type='text'>Era como se tivesse rasgado o peito frágil em que escrevera seu único poema. E tocado o fósforo ali depois de riscá-lo mecanicamente na caixinha que guarda o café portenho. 

As lembranças não são sempre fumaça? 

O amor enrodilhou-se anelado diante dos meus olhos mudos e subiu ao céu. Defunto.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/1886098447503530177/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=1886098447503530177&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/1886098447503530177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/1886098447503530177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2010/10/morrer-um-pouco.html' title='Morrer um pouco'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-9144065520019360449</id><published>2010-10-05T23:44:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T23:44:39.034-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Exercício de dizer</title><summary type='text'>Havia nela ainda um quê de brisa. Não se sabia de onde vinham os cabelos em fúria ou o sempre cheiro de mato na pele. Era toda selvageria guardada na boca bem selada. Diferente de todas da casa, mais se aproximava era de Brusque, a gata arredia, ou das árvores do quintal. Silenciosa, o que deixava escapar às vezes eram ruminações de menina em brinquedos secretos roubados dos livros: dragoínas </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/9144065520019360449/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=9144065520019360449&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/9144065520019360449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/9144065520019360449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2010/10/exercicio-de-dizer.html' title='Exercício de dizer'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-7654165907225578465</id><published>2010-06-27T21:23:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T21:23:38.856-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Era domingo de mormaço e saliva
vizinhento e pegajoso
calcinhas, 
panela, 
ela

Era domingo com gosto

(se ainda tivesse pulso, fazia um samba)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/7654165907225578465/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=7654165907225578465&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7654165907225578465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7654165907225578465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2010/06/era-domingo-de-mormaco-e-saliva.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-7633864931513154278</id><published>2010-06-20T00:40:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-20T00:40:27.228-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-Vai
eu te diria se pudesse
sem lágrima
sem gesto de adeus
sem despedaçar-me

Há tanto que mastigo as dores
Há tanto que enxugo a saliva
que a palavra só
é partida</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/7633864931513154278/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=7633864931513154278&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7633864931513154278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7633864931513154278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2010/06/vai-eu-te-diria-se-pudesse-sem-lagrima.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-5717925988126431904</id><published>2010-06-13T22:14:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T22:14:41.846-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>das coisas que já não digo:
tanta água
algum medo
amor
horas gordas
um copo de sal
o corpo só

dobrada em silêncio
a  matéria dos segredos alimenta-se dos segundos
até ser navalha</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/5717925988126431904/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=5717925988126431904&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/5717925988126431904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/5717925988126431904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2010/06/das-coisas-que-ja-nao-digo-tanta-agua.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-6793003496110230750</id><published>2010-05-09T04:25:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T04:25:20.462-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Álvaro de Campos e sua poltrona de melancolia. 
Seus tapetes. 
As cartas. 

Ridículos

Enrodilhei-me no nonsense da palavra amorosa. 
Corpo nu. 
E eu já nem tinha medo. 

A madrugada faz ausência. 
Ainda é (im)perfeito: chove. 
(mas eu não ouso dizer)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/6793003496110230750/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=6793003496110230750&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6793003496110230750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6793003496110230750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2010/05/alvaro-de-campos-e-sua-poltrona-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-3062593503524363705</id><published>2010-04-04T00:04:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-04-04T00:08:15.499-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Rasgou a esperança com dentes de fera.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/3062593503524363705/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=3062593503524363705&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3062593503524363705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3062593503524363705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2010/04/rasgou-esperanca-com-dentes-de-fera.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-1713457746220925862</id><published>2010-01-26T00:53:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T00:57:52.789-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>medo é venenoum céu sem estrela engole a memóriaamor é temporalagora chove(você me guardaria na caixa das coisas esquecidas?)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/1713457746220925862/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=1713457746220925862&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/1713457746220925862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/1713457746220925862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2010/01/medo-e-veneno-um-ceu-sem-estrela-engole.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-7320882221853840973</id><published>2009-11-23T21:00:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T21:01:31.122-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>pra me perder no redemoinho do teu peitonem um gestobasta a noitea riscar raios em hálito de café</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/7320882221853840973/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=7320882221853840973&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7320882221853840973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7320882221853840973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2009/11/pra-me-perder-no-redemoinho-do-teu.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-8244364949071762495</id><published>2009-08-14T23:16:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T23:18:14.853-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Parto</title><summary type='text'>E se também a esperança saísse de dentro dela?</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/8244364949071762495/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=8244364949071762495&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/8244364949071762495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/8244364949071762495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2009/08/parto.html' title='Parto'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-381137436470062932</id><published>2009-07-21T19:35:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T19:37:34.335-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Tempo</title><summary type='text'>Com ele é sempre bom envelhecer.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/381137436470062932/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=381137436470062932&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/381137436470062932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/381137436470062932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2009/07/com-ele-e-sempre-bom-envelhecer.html' title='Tempo'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-6709264053768017446</id><published>2009-07-13T00:00:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T00:00:00.476-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Aniversário</title><summary type='text'>O presente é um sonho.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/6709264053768017446/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=6709264053768017446&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6709264053768017446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6709264053768017446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2009/07/aniversario.html' title='Aniversário'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-5873584579188864630</id><published>2009-07-12T23:59:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T23:59:00.419-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Amor</title><summary type='text'>Entrou como quem volta para casa.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/5873584579188864630/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=5873584579188864630&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/5873584579188864630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/5873584579188864630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2009/07/amor.html' title='Amor'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-3743401567819854099</id><published>2009-06-16T17:09:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T17:10:28.400-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Presente</title><summary type='text'>Alice trouxe o coelho e todo o tempo perdido.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/3743401567819854099/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=3743401567819854099&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3743401567819854099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3743401567819854099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2009/06/presente.html' title='Presente'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-2987498387952558800</id><published>2009-05-25T15:16:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T15:19:29.081-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>caço nas páginas daquele livro antigocomo dizer que eu te amo quando não digoignoro o risco da palavra-títeree traço ainda no espelho o caminhoEsquerdo</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/2987498387952558800/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=2987498387952558800&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/2987498387952558800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/2987498387952558800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2009/05/caco-nas-paginas-daquele-livro-antigo.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-3797944137301095915</id><published>2009-05-12T05:22:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T15:48:55.459-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>então me vem vocêpalavra já velha na minha salivariso ancestralsai você de dentro (sempre esteve?)peito e sapatos cansadosos livros dentro da valiserisca de novo a históriavocê borealcor alterada na retinaamanhece com boca de caféa noite escuraesclarece o mistério da caixaescurece(a chave está no lugar)você vem.***(e se calo é por não precisar saber)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/3797944137301095915/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=3797944137301095915&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3797944137301095915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3797944137301095915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2009/05/entao-me-vem-voce-palavra-ja-velha-na.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-3028701382624150349</id><published>2009-05-08T02:27:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T02:29:16.095-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Ele tocou seu sexo como quem salva um animal, ferido e frágil. (pássaro delicado esquecido de voar.)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/3028701382624150349/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=3028701382624150349&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3028701382624150349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3028701382624150349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2009/05/ele-tocou-seu-sexo-como-quem-salva-um.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-6537535972065162653</id><published>2009-02-11T14:41:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T14:54:19.420-02:00</updated><title type='text'>O sentido da vida</title><summary type='text'>Acho que toda a minha imaginação empenhou-se, literalmente, no umbigo. Tudo o que o produzo é pra o bebê que cresce-se Francisco ou Alice cá nesta barriguinha já avantajada. As leituras tb andam se voltando pra gestação, parto, os processos todos que envolvem fazer-se mãe, enfim... Tudo isso é uma forma de dizer que os textos daqui talvez revelem um caminho diferente do que os seus irmãos mais </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/6537535972065162653/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=6537535972065162653&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6537535972065162653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6537535972065162653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2009/02/o-sentido-da-vida.html' title='O sentido da vida'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-6285056336913556897</id><published>2008-11-18T22:33:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T22:34:37.699-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Bossa</title><summary type='text'>Não tenho mais tempo pras palavrasLarguei da poesiaNão quero mais essa mesma cançãoAdeus, meu bemVou ser morena do samba de alguém</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/6285056336913556897/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=6285056336913556897&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6285056336913556897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6285056336913556897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/11/bossa.html' title='Bossa'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-6338657671271447365</id><published>2008-11-14T22:00:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T22:33:46.480-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Madrigal</title><summary type='text'>ele pinta palavras em meu corporenascentistaa madrugada é nua e fartabaixa contínua em nósdescendente é o infernocadência perfeitaonde descobri a pureza</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/6338657671271447365/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=6338657671271447365&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6338657671271447365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6338657671271447365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/11/madrigal.html' title='Madrigal'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-953117468749398004</id><published>2008-11-04T22:21:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T22:21:32.405-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Pequena morte</title><summary type='text'>COMA(me)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/953117468749398004/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=953117468749398004&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/953117468749398004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/953117468749398004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/11/pequena-morte.html' title='Pequena morte'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-5628692033958184978</id><published>2008-11-02T22:22:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T22:26:52.779-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Desdenho o amorcomo quem enxerga o pó sobre os livros da estantecomo quem saliva diante da mesa em banquetePassa por mimNem sinto sedeO amor é brisa nas minhas cortinas fechadasBusca imprevista frestaChove a vidraçaSem sustoTorno a dormirFaz escuro e estou cansada</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/5628692033958184978/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=5628692033958184978&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/5628692033958184978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/5628692033958184978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/11/desdenho-o-amor-como-quem-enxerga-o-p.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-3127971166170758486</id><published>2008-10-30T23:05:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T22:22:46.390-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>pra que asas se posso cantarmeus abismos nas linhas das tuas mãosengulo o ar para não respirar-tee trago a noite como quem rege uma oração</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/3127971166170758486/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=3127971166170758486&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3127971166170758486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3127971166170758486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/10/pra-que-asas-se-posso-cantar-meus.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-6383785776556715007</id><published>2008-09-23T21:53:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T21:56:31.215-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>o dia adormece em cinza e púrpuratodas as palavras esquecidas sussurradas no ventomeus olhos como nas histórias de infânciachove no último andar e eu nem tenho medo da quedacomo você como quem não pensacomo quem se alimenta porque precisa viver</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/6383785776556715007/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=6383785776556715007&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6383785776556715007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6383785776556715007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/09/o-dia-adormece-em-cinza-e-prpura-todas.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-5847600440737752371</id><published>2008-09-02T19:14:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T22:47:30.631-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>a mão abana delicadamente um lençobandeira tremulante em adeussádico prazerhábitosequer Ela chorasequer Ele vêficar não é escolhaé esquecimento.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/5847600440737752371/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=5847600440737752371&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/5847600440737752371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/5847600440737752371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/09/mo-abana-delicadamente-um-leno-bandeira.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-6596036592864905849</id><published>2008-08-26T00:00:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T00:00:00.709-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Meu queixo descansa em teu ombro adormecidoe meus olhos perdem-se na curvatraço entre uma pinta e a outra no mapa das tuas costasCanta uma voz conhecida os músculos exaustos do teu corpo(em que me atiro feito sabiá em manhã de segunda-feira)feito rio em correnteza</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/6596036592864905849/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=6596036592864905849&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6596036592864905849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6596036592864905849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/08/meu-queixo-descansa-em-teu-ombro.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-3085052170933922762</id><published>2008-08-25T18:23:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T18:28:54.706-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Fragmentos do discurso amoroso</title><summary type='text'>Tudo pode ser simples quando bem dito, quando bem desejado, quando bem divertido. O discurso amoroso, considerando-o aqui como aquele que se dispõe ao encantamento, permite, tal como Barthes o fez, expressar (sem máscaras) aquilo que é normalmente secreto. Carpe diem, babe. Você está certo: "As coisas bem ditas:  benditas coisas"</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/3085052170933922762/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=3085052170933922762&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3085052170933922762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3085052170933922762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/08/fragmentos-do-discurso-amoroso.html' title='Fragmentos do discurso amoroso'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-6817177507260177138</id><published>2008-08-21T17:58:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T17:58:48.027-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Esse mar que Dori cantou:as ondas do teu cabelo meninoo azul imenso do teu olho pescadorimprevisto e transparentetal brincadeira de amor</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/6817177507260177138/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=6817177507260177138&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6817177507260177138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6817177507260177138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/08/esse-mar-que-dori-cantou-as-ondas-do.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-422102360703976389</id><published>2008-08-18T20:32:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T20:39:07.033-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>As letras me aprenderam meninaNem sei quanto tempo passouquanta vida se precisa para respirarNão aprendi a contar com a sortecom os números - esses inimigosUm pouco de ar é suspiroMeus dedos são dezMeus medos infinitosE digo porque contei contigo(a chave continua no umbigo?)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/422102360703976389/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=422102360703976389&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/422102360703976389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/422102360703976389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/08/as-letras-me-aprenderam-menina-nem-sei.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-4590061834860811782</id><published>2008-08-14T16:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T20:59:21.322-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Não são teus olhos em espiralNão é tua boca tatuada em minhas costasNão são as palavras que me roubasNem os segredos roucosNão é o gozoNão é o ventoNão é o abismoSão as ondas do teu corpo molhadoEu tenho medo é do mar</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/4590061834860811782/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=4590061834860811782&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/4590061834860811782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/4590061834860811782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/08/no-so-teus-olhos-em-espiral-no-tua-boca.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-6772925448622184503</id><published>2008-08-10T15:35:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T19:54:18.018-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Não entre na quinquilhariaamor, verdades, mobíliaDe ti quero o silêncio(eu gosto das casas vazias)Do teu dia eu quero o solalgum amanhecerpalavras pra poesia(porque eu preciso dizer)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/6772925448622184503/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=6772925448622184503&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6772925448622184503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6772925448622184503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/08/no-entre-na-quinquilharia-amor-verdades.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-6421306349792263006</id><published>2008-08-08T12:57:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T12:59:09.216-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>quando me beijao que devora é meu gritoquando me devorao que descobreé meu susto</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/6421306349792263006/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=6421306349792263006&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6421306349792263006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6421306349792263006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/08/quando-me-beija-o-que-devora-meu-grito.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-2733478103992423355</id><published>2008-08-07T01:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T13:01:37.354-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>esse teu cheiro de fruto- se o tenho à boca - (ah)nem corodevoro</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/2733478103992423355/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=2733478103992423355&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/2733478103992423355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/2733478103992423355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/08/esse-teu-cheiro-de-fruto-se-o-tenho.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-3160281880570107944</id><published>2008-08-05T19:14:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T19:19:53.453-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Atenção,isso é um aviso:eu não sou um lago manso,eu sou o Abismo.Fica longe,olha o perigo!Se me amar agora,vai me odiar um dia.(você pode até gostar da minha anatomia, mas vai me chamar de grande filha filha de uma vaca)Pra quem gosta de cartas marcadas:Eu não valho nada!Sou Rainha.(e gosto das cabeças cortadas)Cuidado, rapaz!Blefa direitoou não descobre do que eu sou capaz...</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/3160281880570107944/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=3160281880570107944&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3160281880570107944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3160281880570107944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/08/ateno-isso-um-aviso-eu-no-sou-um-lago.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-7175593212653393160</id><published>2008-08-02T16:23:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T16:26:51.002-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Sempre me surpreendo com o que sou capaz de dizer quando bebo. Mas me surpreendo ainda mais com o que os outros dizem na mesa ao lado quando o fazem. Aí vai então, da série Frases alheias de boteco: A vida é um sexo!(Análises sobre os sentidos ou produções acerca da situação hipotética em que foi dita tal pérola são bem-vindas)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/7175593212653393160/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=7175593212653393160&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7175593212653393160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7175593212653393160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/08/sempre-me-surpreendo-com-o-que-sou.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-7286528969140879103</id><published>2008-07-31T16:45:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-31T17:20:30.713-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>gosto de te ver assimresto de noite na minha bocaentre os lençóis de lavandanas notas daquela cançãona caligrafia das minhas anotaçõesteu gesto escorre pelo papelfeito chuva de domingo</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/7286528969140879103/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=7286528969140879103&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7286528969140879103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7286528969140879103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/07/gosto-de-te-ver-assim-resto-de-noite-na.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-4706511699178732544</id><published>2008-07-29T15:40:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T15:41:00.962-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ligação de cobrançacaminhão de gástorneira mal fechadaconstrução no quintal ao lado de casadançamendigo pedindo moeda na calçadacorpo pedindo águacachaçamúsica ruim no rádio do vizinhotelefone ocupadotututuA vida é um disco riscado.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/4706511699178732544/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=4706511699178732544&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/4706511699178732544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/4706511699178732544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/07/ligao-de-cobrana-caminho-de-gs-torneira.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-6228041013404311574</id><published>2008-07-28T13:13:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T13:20:38.820-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Os gatos (excerto)</title><summary type='text'>(..)Os gatos jamais me dêem a sensaçãoà toade ter adormecido antes do perigo onde há carne, e líquido, e suor lentoengolindo a vontade da Palavra.Que culpa tenho deste sono que se originaantes de mim,na dúvida de saber que sorriso fezos gatos de músculo me atentando me querendo sem roupas e ao frio dos telhados escrevendo as coisas felinas confundidase seus pulos imitando sem desenho“onde a </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/6228041013404311574/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=6228041013404311574&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6228041013404311574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6228041013404311574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/07/os-gatos-excerto.html' title='Os gatos (excerto)'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-3604083036725764272</id><published>2008-07-23T00:28:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T00:29:41.577-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>luzes acesas vozes amigas chove melhor                 Alice Ruiz</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/3604083036725764272/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=3604083036725764272&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3604083036725764272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3604083036725764272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/07/luzes-acesas-vozes-amigas-chove-melhor.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-6906152411344705715</id><published>2008-07-18T10:43:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T10:51:31.151-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O dia da criação</title><summary type='text'>Macho e fêmea os criou.Bíblia: Gênese, 1, 27IHoje é sábado, amanhã é domingoA vida vem em ondas, como o marOs bondes andam em cima dos trilhosE Nosso Senhor Jesus Cristo morreu na Cruz para nos salvar.Hoje é sábado, amanhã é domingoNão há nada como o tempo para passarFoi muita bondade de Nosso Senhor Jesus CristoMas por via das dúvidas livrai-nos meu Deus de todo mal.Hoje é sábado, amanhã é </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/6906152411344705715/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=6906152411344705715&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6906152411344705715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6906152411344705715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/07/o-dia-da-criao.html' title='O dia da criação'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-587762397636356412</id><published>2008-07-14T21:35:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T21:37:00.810-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Era noite quando ela amanheceu. Os olhos roucos, cansados de tantos ver. A mão pequena tateou pelo escuro do quarto à procura do corpo ao seu lado na cama. Encontrou o sussurro perdido na sombra. Era o vento na rua ou a voz do fantasma quem a chamava?Esfregou com força o rosto no tecido da fronha. O travesseiro era o silente e fiel depositário de seus segredos. (Se o partissem, despejaria em </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/587762397636356412/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=587762397636356412&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/587762397636356412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/587762397636356412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/07/era-noite-quando-ela-amanheceu.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-3250036050861427684</id><published>2008-07-10T22:07:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T22:11:29.913-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Comunhão</title><summary type='text'>O corpo é partido.a chaga rasgada do pulsopreenche de vinho o cálicemartelam badaladaspalavras em uníssonogemidos em ladainhajá não há mãos enlaçadasnem palavras de perdão.(Madalena espalha as pedras para não perder o rumo)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/3250036050861427684/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=3250036050861427684&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3250036050861427684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3250036050861427684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/07/comunho-o-corpo-partido.html' title='Comunhão'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-1399122737975755349</id><published>2008-06-29T15:01:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T15:03:06.611-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Dead line</title><summary type='text'>Embalava as pernas. Desde criança embalava as pernas quando pensava. Gostava de sentir o vento morno enquanto observava a chaminé da Usina perfurando o céu. Do último andar era possível ver o sol ser engolido pelas águas escuras do Guaíba. E ele gostava de sentar-se ali, no terraço do edifício, os olhos ainda tontos de tanto ver. Depois disso, as idéias sempre chegavam............................</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/1399122737975755349/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=1399122737975755349&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/1399122737975755349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/1399122737975755349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/06/dead-line.html' title='Dead line'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-568334105383263832</id><published>2008-06-12T19:17:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T19:28:13.087-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Amor, sobrenome Passagem</title><summary type='text'>Quando o Amor chegar, estarei inteira. Para poder ser sua, inteira. Porque Ele não aceitaria menos. Não aceitaria metade de mim (mesmo eu sendo metade sua, serei uma metade inteira).Vai me ligar para saber o que levar para o jantar e eu vou pedir um corte de carne, pensando que deveria ter respondido Amor. Não haverá mais fome em mim quando Ele chegar. Com flores e suspiros.O seu sorriso será tão</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/568334105383263832/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=568334105383263832&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/568334105383263832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/568334105383263832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/06/amor-sobrenome-passagem.html' title='Amor, sobrenome Passagem'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-2063944592242702193</id><published>2008-06-04T22:28:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T22:29:22.690-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Vontade de te ver sorrir mundo. Vontade de rir do teu riso frouxo de menino-homem. Dos teus olhos estrelando, explodindo diante das minhas bobices de mulher-menina. Do meu choro de felicidade compartilhada e incontida. Porque não precisa mais ser secreta. Um livro de bolso: citações de todos os nossos autores escritas com letra de professora em papel colorido. As músicas selecionadas pra ouvir </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/2063944592242702193/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=2063944592242702193&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/2063944592242702193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/2063944592242702193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/06/vontade-de-te-ver-sorrir-mundo.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-4882730769048345502</id><published>2008-06-01T13:47:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T13:47:50.909-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Nasci enforcada no cordão umbilical. Fui atropelada duas vezes: aos dois meses e dez anos depoisUsei botinhas ortopédicas.Rolei três andares de escada aos quatro.Sinto cólicas toda vez que menstruo.Pari uma filha.Já fui cinza.Tenho palavras no corpo e nas mãos.Tenho paixão pelo abismoe um álbum de cicatrizes.E me perguntas se tenho medo de sofrer...</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/4882730769048345502/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=4882730769048345502&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/4882730769048345502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/4882730769048345502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/06/nasci-enforcada-no-cordo-umbilical.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-2714135404593066828</id><published>2008-05-30T19:33:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T19:35:38.442-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>No espelho partidoAlice espia o mundoe todas as cabeças cortadas</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/2714135404593066828/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=2714135404593066828&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/2714135404593066828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/2714135404593066828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/05/no-espelho-partido-alice-espia-o-mundo.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-1587184075625884316</id><published>2008-05-26T16:14:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T16:17:53.985-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Passa por mimrio, riso, minuanoponte para as lembrançasPeçaum monte de areiaum tanto de arum resto de amorDiante dos olhoso passado dá voltasem torno do círculo</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/1587184075625884316/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=1587184075625884316&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/1587184075625884316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/1587184075625884316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/05/passa-por-mim-rio-riso-minuano-ponte.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-7825371375747600846</id><published>2008-05-08T13:05:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T13:07:17.050-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Considerações sobre nada</title><summary type='text'>Estou lendo "Cartas apaixonadas de Frida", uma complilação das mensagens da artista mexicana Frida Kahlo aos seus amores: amigos queridos, familiares, namorados, amantes. Inspirador. Dá vontade de sair escrevendo tudo o que se passa na cabeça a qualquer das pessoas que rouba meus pensamentos. E é o que tenho feito.São as cartas que eu não mando. O dia triste e o amor ainda guardado confessado ao </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/7825371375747600846/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=7825371375747600846&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7825371375747600846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7825371375747600846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/05/consideraes-sobre-nada.html' title='Considerações sobre nada'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-738086162746654768</id><published>2008-05-07T19:49:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T02:32:06.647-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Descansa Galatéia em almofadas rubras
A face morta e perfeita
Descansa Pigmaleão admirado
À sua frente sorri o Amor
Às suas costas ri Afrodite
Mas não é a alva mulher que ele admira
A obra é somente pedra bruta ante o cinzel
O que o artista vê quando grita
É Narciso preso no espelho</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/738086162746654768/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=738086162746654768&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/738086162746654768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/738086162746654768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/05/descansa-galatia-em-almofadas-rubras.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-4801821816111917748</id><published>2008-05-05T00:00:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T00:00:01.282-03:00</updated><title type='text'>A media luz</title><summary type='text'>Quando ele partiu, Mariana Rosa fumou um maço de cigarros e gastou três pacotes de lenços de papel. Durante um mês a voz dele deitou-se no lado direito da cama e sussurrou imoralidades em seu ouvido. Na última sexta-feira, no lixo do prédio, vários discos de Gardel foram encontrados. Todos quebrados.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/4801821816111917748/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=4801821816111917748&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/4801821816111917748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/4801821816111917748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/05/media-luz.html' title='A media luz'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-3199018155820658796</id><published>2008-05-04T13:11:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T14:03:06.280-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Uma mulher parindo um filhoUm gato no cio no telhado vizinhoUm bêbado dormindo na calçada do outro lado da ruaA vitória do time no campeonato estadual de futebolQuarenta e seis minutos do segundo tempoQuarenta e dois milímetros de cabelos a mais na cabeçaAlguns brancosUm cigarro queimando sozinho no cinzeiroUma lista de supermercadoUma fila de ônibusTrinta diasNomes riscados na agenda de </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/3199018155820658796/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=3199018155820658796&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3199018155820658796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3199018155820658796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/05/uma-mulher-parindo-um-filho-um-gato-no.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-1839387633753247894</id><published>2008-05-03T19:02:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T19:02:27.707-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Chegou sem que ela percebesseTomou conta de seu corpode suas noites e de seus diasBeijou-lhe as mãos, os seios, as têmporasTornou-se sua imagem no espelhoOutra e tão conhecidaNa última primavera,escorregou os dedos sobre os longos cabelosfechou seus olhos com delicadeza(para que não o visse partir)O Tempo não sabia, entretanto,que a deixara grávida de Vida</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/1839387633753247894/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=1839387633753247894&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/1839387633753247894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/1839387633753247894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/05/chegou-sem-que-ela-percebesse-tomou.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-8702022356656906734</id><published>2008-05-01T21:07:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T13:15:32.908-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>no escuro, sobre o livro mornodescansam os olhos do meninonão há ponteiros pra gerar o tempoem nuvens caminha o sonholento e velho como almasábio de que nunca é perdidoaquilo que se tem chaveo quarto murmura as pedras do caminhoem que saltita dourada dorothydeverasMelancolia não cabe em palavranem Amor</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/8702022356656906734/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=8702022356656906734&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/8702022356656906734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/8702022356656906734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/05/no-escuro-sobre-o-livro-morno-descansam.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-4057682713979690492</id><published>2008-04-29T18:28:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T18:35:18.704-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"Rita, guardei essa mensagenzinhaPara que os dias nasçam em amareloe as flores brotem das vidraçasPara que as portas saiam correndo pela ruae a passagem fique sempre escancaradaGuardei essa mensagenzinha pra tiPara o teu travesseiro e teu vestido de bolinhasPara teu rosto largo de mulher ligeirapara teus brotos que sempre explodemE para as noites que nunca acabamGuardei porque era tua"E porque </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/4057682713979690492/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=4057682713979690492&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/4057682713979690492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/4057682713979690492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/04/rita-guardei-essa-mensagenzinha-para.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-2935286553888214210</id><published>2008-04-28T15:04:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T18:18:17.627-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>(Los Hermanos, "Adeus você", gravação ao vivo no Cine Íris. Disponível em http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kcCco0I9OA0)*******Porque o resto é silêncioE esqueci como se cantaE esqueci como se dançaE esqueci como se choraE esqueci como se esquecePorque eu grito no escuroPorque eu seiSó esqueci como dizer</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/2935286553888214210/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=2935286553888214210&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/2935286553888214210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/2935286553888214210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/04/amnsia.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-3975527387258430167</id><published>2008-04-27T13:41:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T13:41:28.922-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Tenho trinta e um anos, alguns meses e muitos diasNão uso relógio de pulso(meu descompassado segundo)Mas tenho sempre pressa, AliceGuardo longos silênciose tomo chá antes de dormirPara lembrar que desde que nasci sou velha</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/3975527387258430167/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=3975527387258430167&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3975527387258430167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3975527387258430167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/04/tenho-trinta-e-um-anos-alguns-meses-e.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-2354730775216841351</id><published>2008-04-26T15:00:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T15:03:33.834-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Bíblico</title><summary type='text'>Carmela Pedrozo, sábia bruxa dos pampas, sempre dissera que derrubar sal era um sinal de desgraça próxima.  No dia 21 de abril de 2008, enquanto Margarida Pedrozo cozinhava, distraiu-se e deixou cair o vidro inteiro de sal. Lembrou-se da avó e derramou um rio de lágrimas, mas convenceu-se de que tudo não passava de superstição. Mais tarde, voltou a chorar. E de novo. E de novo.  Nos seguintes </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/2354730775216841351/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=2354730775216841351&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/2354730775216841351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/2354730775216841351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/04/bblico.html' title='Bíblico'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-3540471741831349594</id><published>2008-04-25T19:00:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T19:01:06.262-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>é hora de rasgar os versosodiar cada palavra maldita(tão bem ditas)queimar os retratosesvaziar o cinzeirolavar os lençóis e as taçasfechar com travas as portasdesfazer nósevaporar-seevaporar-senem corponem cinzanem pó(morrer também é uma forma de respirar)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/3540471741831349594/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=3540471741831349594&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3540471741831349594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3540471741831349594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/04/hora-de-rasgar-os-versos-odiar-cada.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-5622590149574571505</id><published>2008-04-24T12:14:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T19:01:41.002-03:00</updated><title type='text'>haicais (2000)</title><summary type='text'>no varal, ao vento,resquícios de corpoperdendo tempo***O cetim sem tiEmaranhadoPerde os sentidos***Amor-perfeitoMurchando na janelaSaudades dela</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/5622590149574571505/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=5622590149574571505&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/5622590149574571505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/5622590149574571505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/04/haicais-2000.html' title='haicais (2000)'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-9100197517494651630</id><published>2008-04-23T18:12:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T11:59:40.882-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Salve, Jorge!</title><summary type='text'>Jorge vestiu armaduraFez o medo virar póJorge, que era romano,Queria tanto ser santoVirou também homem sóSalve JorgeMontou no cavalo brancoComo príncipe encantadoTrocou o mal pelo malLança por encruzilhadaPecado pelo altarSalve JorgeJorge perdeu poesiaJorge encontrou oraçãoCansou do povo da ruaLevou a casa pra luaMata por dia um dragão(** dia 23 de abril, dia de São Jorge/Ogum)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/9100197517494651630/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=9100197517494651630&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/9100197517494651630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/9100197517494651630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/04/salve-jorge.html' title='Salve, Jorge!'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-6480377881587213936</id><published>2008-04-22T19:36:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T19:36:46.858-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Pandora guardou a Esperança(e todos os sonhos alados)Sobre eles, prendeu Nós</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/6480377881587213936/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=6480377881587213936&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6480377881587213936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6480377881587213936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/04/pandora-guardou-esperana-e-todos-os.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-7131668612315548413</id><published>2008-04-02T18:20:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T18:27:28.803-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sacrilégio</title><summary type='text'>Se é santo teu nomeprofano-o em minha bocahomempêlo, pele, paurasga-me a carne a navalhaexplode meus porosabertosSe sempre fui santateu gozo me torna putamulhercadela, vadia, cretinaembalo o menino nos seiosdesabrocho a rosa orvalhadasecretaFiéis, adoremos</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/7131668612315548413/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=7131668612315548413&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7131668612315548413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7131668612315548413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/04/sacrilgio.html' title='Sacrilégio'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-3777602274632408251</id><published>2008-03-27T23:38:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T23:40:13.905-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Quaraí</title><summary type='text'>No quintal da minha casa nasceu um desertoEu era pequena e gostava de queimar as solas dos pés na areia quenteMe fazia gigante e tocava com dedos de sombra o horizontePlantei toda querência nos fundos da minha infânciaPra inundar para sempre o meu particular sertão</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/3777602274632408251/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=3777602274632408251&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3777602274632408251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3777602274632408251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/03/quara.html' title='Quaraí'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-2821808578754700640</id><published>2008-03-27T11:23:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T11:27:18.437-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>a gravura na paredeos cabelosa bocaa bolsa com bolinhas brancasa carteira de sócio do time de futebolas contas do colara costura da saiaos sapatostudo por dentrovermelhouma unha nãopra manter a sanidade</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/2821808578754700640/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=2821808578754700640&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/2821808578754700640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/2821808578754700640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/03/gravura-na-parede-os-cabelos-boca-bolsa.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-4899353788358406229</id><published>2008-03-26T22:37:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T22:44:01.926-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>quando eu era menina, eu gostava dos muroshavia o da escola e os beijos fugidioscapote que protegia o corpo dos olhos e do minuanoo da casa era travesseirocompartilhar de estrelasgaveta de cochichosem todos me escondiatornava-me grafiteescorrendo feito rímel em fim de festaquando choviaminha cidade tem um muro e ele não é meuguarda os cabelos de um rioondas vermelhas em fim de tardesuas meninas </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/4899353788358406229/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=4899353788358406229&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/4899353788358406229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/4899353788358406229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/03/quando-eu-era-menina-eu-gostava-dos.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-7357978636315773717</id><published>2008-03-25T20:13:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T20:13:55.031-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>no tempo em que lia sem óculosao revésatravessadobem de pertinhoas costasos brancoso ladoestava tudo gravadoeu te sabia de core agora estes olhos fechadospra não ler o fim da história?</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/7357978636315773717/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=7357978636315773717&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7357978636315773717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7357978636315773717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/03/no-tempo-em-que-lia-sem-culos-ao-revs.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-3969253359209519404</id><published>2008-03-21T16:35:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T16:37:18.215-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Um dia para Tiago</title><summary type='text'>Acordou cedo, como sempre. Varrendo a escuridão e abrindo as janelas pra esvoaçar o sol pela calçada. Espantou os bêbados e seus tijolos. Adormeceu os postes. Fazia isso com a lentidão de quem repete por séculos o mesmo gesto. Uma letra tocando as margens do caderno de caligrafia, e de novo, e de novo, até tornar-se esfera. Como o sol que agora cochilava sobre os telhados da vizinhança. Um gato. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/3969253359209519404/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=3969253359209519404&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3969253359209519404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3969253359209519404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/03/um-dia-para-tiago.html' title='Um dia para Tiago'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-3880943745947351773</id><published>2008-03-16T10:09:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T10:10:27.939-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>podia ser de marçopau, pedra, temporal80% do meu corpoa gota que falta pro finalberço de jangada e botopodia banhar a menina que passaespelho de lua com rã ancestralpodia  ser chuvinha miudinhapodia chover sem pararOdoiá, Yemanjápodia encher a maréabrir-se pelas mãos de Moisésguardar o sal nas lágrimas de Portugalagigantar-se, quase terrasob aurora borealpodia faltar, atése não fossem seus </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/3880943745947351773/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=3880943745947351773&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3880943745947351773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3880943745947351773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/03/podia-ser-de-maro-pau-pedra-temporal-80.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-6174644041420204638</id><published>2008-03-11T21:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T21:25:15.528-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>rasgo-me em mundos dispersosrotas diversasrodas de versospra que te percas de mimpra que encontres o rumopra que acertes a flechaentre os meridianoscompasso de minhas pernas abertas</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/6174644041420204638/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=6174644041420204638&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6174644041420204638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6174644041420204638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/03/rasgo-me-em-mundos-dispersos-rotas.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-8887888850631197144</id><published>2008-02-23T16:16:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-02-23T16:29:09.420-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>risquei a vida no meu corpocaderno de caligrafia de menina(como acertar o horizonte tão reto?)o borrão é um muro que se vê do espaçoas rasuras escuras escondem o erro(qual era a palavra querida?)as linhas continuam nas mãospequeninos túneis sem locomotivao buraco visto em uma agulha perdidafechaduraa palavra emenda o mundolê histórias pra me fazer sorrirse choro é porque adormeci</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/8887888850631197144/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=8887888850631197144&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/8887888850631197144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/8887888850631197144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/02/risquei-vida-no-meu-corpo-caderno-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-7479538974983973810</id><published>2008-02-18T15:41:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-02-17T15:54:30.195-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ando pelas ruas de olhos fechadossou meus pés descalços na pedra friasinto tudo que não posso veros bêbados riem porque desconhecemcrianças inocentes e cruéis pinçam as asas coloridas de uma borboletao dia é devorado com semente e polpa verdee os líquidos todos vertemcachoeira, pranto, sangue, solsou a frieza do gelo que se extingue até tornar-se saliva espessacosturo-me por dentroagulha engolida</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/7479538974983973810/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=7479538974983973810&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7479538974983973810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/7479538974983973810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/02/ando-pelas-ruas-de-olhos-fechados-sou.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-6234300425366507508</id><published>2008-02-17T15:41:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-02-17T15:41:46.988-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>caixinha na cabeceiraa chave em bolso de calçaesquecida na lavanderiamala roxa guardando lembrançasretratos antigosdo que fui um diaos cheiros dos homens que fuias mechas dos cabelos que tivee algumas pedraso que pesa é a saudadee aquilo que eu não seifrágil tatuado no lado esquerdopra poder não partir</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/6234300425366507508/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=6234300425366507508&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6234300425366507508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6234300425366507508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/02/caixinha-na-cabeceira-chave-em-bolso-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-1299819865129868244</id><published>2008-02-14T20:03:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T20:18:39.166-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Oscuridad</title><summary type='text'>Nem é maio, mas é tudo muito rápido e eu flutuo - um obelisco (monumento, falo) em névoa azul penetrando a treva. Nos esgotos correm os trens e os  subterrâneos desejos, oscuridades sob os passos dos que sempre andam (e nem sempre vêem). Subtem-se, sublimados pelo ar de prata. Abelhas riscam o asfalto largo cercadas de concreto e história. As palavras gritam nas paredes das casas e das calçadas. </summary><link rel='enclosure' type='' href='http://www.espiraldemim.blogspot.com' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/1299819865129868244/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=1299819865129868244&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/1299819865129868244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/1299819865129868244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/02/oscuridad.html' title='Oscuridad'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-6952980969933466321</id><published>2008-01-29T16:39:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T11:48:30.554-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>quando explode a bolhaarrebentam-se no aras cores do meu coraçãosol ardentea nova esferaé breve borboletana morte da espera(flutua soberba sobre minha cabeçae sabe-seredondamente certa)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/6952980969933466321/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=6952980969933466321&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6952980969933466321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/6952980969933466321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/01/quando-explode-bolha-arrebentam-se-no.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-8954398544417459697</id><published>2008-01-28T14:31:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T14:33:33.062-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>escorrega entre os dedosfeito fio de pérolasacaricia delicadamentepele coberta de póolhando de pertoparece amor ou versomas é só tempo</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/8954398544417459697/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=8954398544417459697&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/8954398544417459697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/8954398544417459697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/01/escorrega-entre-os-dedos-feito-fio-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-1101551406385910240</id><published>2008-01-27T16:35:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T15:05:33.179-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ovo estrelado em frigideira azulcarros colorem o asfaltogente comendogente amandogente esperandogentevida é prato-feitopra quem não tem o que fazer</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/1101551406385910240/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=1101551406385910240&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/1101551406385910240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/1101551406385910240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/01/ovo-estrelado-em-frigideira-azul-carros.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-8969468706117754220</id><published>2008-01-26T16:32:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T01:09:18.071-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Acaso o vento passe</title><summary type='text'>abertas as portas da Casao Vento invade sem pudoracaricia suas paredes mornasescancara as limpas janelastira tudo do lugarcobre o chão de folhas e floresaté parecer jardimo Vento bagunça certezas de tijolos e concretoaté a Casa tornar-se ardepois silencia e partebatendo a portanas cores dos objetoso tempo deposita póamarela os sorrisos dos retratossó cantam os fantasmas e as coisas mortasCasa </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/8969468706117754220/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=8969468706117754220&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/8969468706117754220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/8969468706117754220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/01/acaso-o-vento-passe.html' title='Acaso o vento passe'/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-8898717924678348832</id><published>2008-01-16T20:46:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T20:46:38.387-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>deixa-me a alma nuaarranca dela meus medosescancara os segredosfaz-me pra sempre tuarainha da tua punhetatu és meu maior tesourocoroa minha bucetacom esse teu corpo mouro</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/8898717924678348832/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=8898717924678348832&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/8898717924678348832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/8898717924678348832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/01/deixa-me-alma-nua-arranca-dela-meus.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-4293501786587821684</id><published>2008-01-13T23:50:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T23:51:42.623-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>O que é dito é facaO que não é, feridaO que é vivido é fatoO que não é, faíscaDo ponto ao traçohá outro pontoÉ novo espaçoOnde está a pontepra chegar do outro lado?</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/4293501786587821684/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=4293501786587821684&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/4293501786587821684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/4293501786587821684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/01/o-que-dito-faca-o-que-no-ferida-o-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-3368599165827783072</id><published>2008-01-05T22:16:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-01-05T22:18:51.052-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A noite escorregaUm lençol cheio de estrelasNós em eclipse</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/3368599165827783072/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=3368599165827783072&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3368599165827783072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/3368599165827783072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2008/01/noite-escorrega-um-lenol-cheio-de.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-2561169594760302509</id><published>2007-12-12T22:21:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T22:23:03.763-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>teu corpo o meu anoitecesombras se completammovem-se silêncios desnudosescorregadio cetimem agudo desintegrar-seestrelas pipocam pelo espaçonum quarto de luaa maré cheia</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/2561169594760302509/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=2561169594760302509&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/2561169594760302509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/2561169594760302509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2007/12/teu-corpo-o-meu-anoitece-sombras-se.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-4691386853705453987</id><published>2007-12-10T19:39:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T19:40:15.160-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Minha boca chama a suaafobada pela falta de palavrade ânsia, de água,  de cigarrodeixa de ser lábios e linguagempra ser vorazmente nuaescrava voluntária da tua imagem.Minha boca canta a sua(como flautista de mágico musical)Boca na boca, dedo por dedoaté o lá, agudo,maior que a lua que nos cobreMinha boca clama a sua(vem depressa)reclama domingo de sol em claveem dia de chuva torrencial</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/4691386853705453987/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=4691386853705453987&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/4691386853705453987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/4691386853705453987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2007/12/minha-boca-chama-sua-afobada-pela-falta.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-141218066070618580</id><published>2007-11-26T22:51:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T22:51:49.943-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>repletos de cosasritmobatuqueafrogalegosaxsambeiropreto-e-brancobotequeirodisperso somondeia marinheirovão vão vãosexyboleionós, primeirodecoradorima escritadescoberta(o sorriso fica)inteirosol na escuridão</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/141218066070618580/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=141218066070618580&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/141218066070618580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/141218066070618580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2007/11/repletos-de-cosas-ritmo-batuque.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-4879413986029814966</id><published>2007-11-20T00:14:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T00:14:47.904-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>escorre pela parede um coisa pegajosaque não é suor nem palpitamusgo que se cria sempre no escondidono obscuro, no osceno(porque há quem desconsidere o amor)um cinzeiro cheio e mãos vaziasporque o ar é saudade</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/4879413986029814966/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=4879413986029814966&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/4879413986029814966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/4879413986029814966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2007/11/escorre-pela-parede-um-coisa-pegajosa.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7284922.post-4465816503467012790</id><published>2007-11-14T00:05:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T00:08:54.295-02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>devora minhas palavrasdecora o meu corposem decorosem demoradescola minha retiname chama de cretinadesaforadesmente a minha rimaenquanto eu alucinoenquanto eu anunciotoda prosa tua sinavocê meu masculinoeu rio de menina</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/feeds/4465816503467012790/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7284922&amp;postID=4465816503467012790&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/4465816503467012790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7284922/posts/default/4465816503467012790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eupoetica.blogspot.com/2007/11/devora-minhas-palavras-decora-o-meu.html' title=''/><author><name>Rita</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15335350149091535625</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2z-3JjqFgBE/S7gSpHYMMmI/AAAAAAAAADQ/o0wEmctAhKg/S220/DSC04087.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
