tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49957636087220929942024-03-21T10:27:01.140-07:00Dia de GatoMarcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-1736487709468024392010-02-13T19:37:00.000-08:002010-02-13T19:45:13.800-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5UqDgvtI4IulCDNniKtnBvGQdv80GqgKYusU5rVKzVQQ6MCQiMH6gMH2gw3uqZVTXjeDaXZVpVMJYZPE9qpifeOVNyFkOkLAg5VEqmvKB8oZnQqDuGwJhef4D4Zhpw1-el0A9_mD316w/s1600-h/196575.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 308px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5UqDgvtI4IulCDNniKtnBvGQdv80GqgKYusU5rVKzVQQ6MCQiMH6gMH2gw3uqZVTXjeDaXZVpVMJYZPE9qpifeOVNyFkOkLAg5VEqmvKB8oZnQqDuGwJhef4D4Zhpw1-el0A9_mD316w/s320/196575.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437939964001483666" /></a><br />... é porque quando me abraças, desejo que o tempo pare...Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-6647656934005342342009-03-18T19:26:00.000-07:002009-03-18T20:09:57.361-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhprNK7MDmqIisWEu94u0KYnLare9pG-3zMFBL1Ahr70RDy3ZJtMhOq6gKUscHyCrwHl5RxFgryx1c8cOTX1hrc2Xy9khYY-8qdttPjxF7G4X1-Z4gNqPzmkKXkbHAdt5D4tU3vSF1xD9s/s1600-h/mulher+%C3%A0+chuva.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 236px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhprNK7MDmqIisWEu94u0KYnLare9pG-3zMFBL1Ahr70RDy3ZJtMhOq6gKUscHyCrwHl5RxFgryx1c8cOTX1hrc2Xy9khYY-8qdttPjxF7G4X1-Z4gNqPzmkKXkbHAdt5D4tU3vSF1xD9s/s320/mulher+%C3%A0+chuva.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314724349133727554" border="0" /></a><br />é tão bom sentir<br />que apenas<br /> me vês...Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-25318409676046644202008-11-04T05:09:00.000-08:002008-11-04T05:11:26.916-08:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwB9yCKJ9mYknJ_B3tvp3A3-Nzv2ULuJ-t3MSYnR1EgZPAmPLeYtSmzy3kiY0pAq4_v5UjHgqk6oVITNERUqJZBWTihw08-KNUUPfTWs1Epc02bUnLUaChOvfpLhm7duPrpAlEA5bXYYU/s1600-h/solidao.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264789074137401218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 253px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwB9yCKJ9mYknJ_B3tvp3A3-Nzv2ULuJ-t3MSYnR1EgZPAmPLeYtSmzy3kiY0pAq4_v5UjHgqk6oVITNERUqJZBWTihw08-KNUUPfTWs1Epc02bUnLUaChOvfpLhm7duPrpAlEA5bXYYU/s320/solidao.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Sem você</div>Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-75263464801381287632008-09-13T12:28:00.000-07:002008-10-15T13:24:35.895-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXBZC8Crs6fnr1P5oi4ND-Qoo3co1eIObOSZxRwFaxLOf6ePRpELMEDBJDRXa7-2eOrKxZos4XCgmF1qyESH5LzYfw33Iw8JbSv5JRURl7si7GY4_o1AE4q3tht3lT1CgXwfnx2AndlXc/s1600-h/AA004092[1].jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245590565946086818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXBZC8Crs6fnr1P5oi4ND-Qoo3co1eIObOSZxRwFaxLOf6ePRpELMEDBJDRXa7-2eOrKxZos4XCgmF1qyESH5LzYfw33Iw8JbSv5JRURl7si7GY4_o1AE4q3tht3lT1CgXwfnx2AndlXc/s320/AA004092%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" /></a>Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-15962159266436393322008-09-13T11:58:00.000-07:002008-09-13T12:00:49.363-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifBu2rPVV_1S7KoRszSYsXMUU_y_42J7uzHVvj1GRTZ6k8__z8KXJP4nMRxQSNo-USwD9mPjlqodLk-5mTo2UvsIqyGFH4Yf49ovQ_6QFyjP85bWajv_q7DTKhDAQkHXu5lXgcxo5FFIE/s1600-h/Flowers.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245582598468873490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifBu2rPVV_1S7KoRszSYsXMUU_y_42J7uzHVvj1GRTZ6k8__z8KXJP4nMRxQSNo-USwD9mPjlqodLk-5mTo2UvsIqyGFH4Yf49ovQ_6QFyjP85bWajv_q7DTKhDAQkHXu5lXgcxo5FFIE/s320/Flowers.jpg" border="0" /></a> "Quando sentir saudades me lê em algum poema de Ruiz em algum detalhe de Neruda em algo que te faz feliz..."(Cáh Morandi)<br /><div></div>Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-32426954259076576552008-08-17T06:46:00.000-07:002008-08-17T07:02:59.782-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdarFJWcd3rqYEcs2mh4BbErMRDd0SK1CBwiur7z7dvAFRpTWcUhA2MnCyS-L5oEr1VYTlBhLIxNbay-_MvCqSNhCcXlXp2IcUtjzpfe-AhcD7kH4ijiuVMep34aZTYQ9B2T0h_VCwYs4/s1600-h/Imagem+055.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235486809839344850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdarFJWcd3rqYEcs2mh4BbErMRDd0SK1CBwiur7z7dvAFRpTWcUhA2MnCyS-L5oEr1VYTlBhLIxNbay-_MvCqSNhCcXlXp2IcUtjzpfe-AhcD7kH4ijiuVMep34aZTYQ9B2T0h_VCwYs4/s320/Imagem+055.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Um cheiro de poesia</div>Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-1214527329039681082008-08-11T06:41:00.000-07:002008-08-11T06:45:01.810-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtYeqqC1itICdBRcOaBQiWzdZm8KRtZqzx_04ddY0M3UwYH0bU40fUNP-7jwawLyfXAfTrb7QS1ABqlm0mifW9lTLUzjlIqB6Q7rjisiZkmtFtI9R9OZwkW7nedDHwm79lgCPPRDaeGGQ/s1600-h/samba1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233255314912253698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtYeqqC1itICdBRcOaBQiWzdZm8KRtZqzx_04ddY0M3UwYH0bU40fUNP-7jwawLyfXAfTrb7QS1ABqlm0mifW9lTLUzjlIqB6Q7rjisiZkmtFtI9R9OZwkW7nedDHwm79lgCPPRDaeGGQ/s320/samba1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Venho declarar meus versos,<br />A quem neles se identificou.<br />Mas em mim guardarei que foi à você,<br />Que fiz meu primeiro samba<br />Minha primeira ginga... </div>Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-3121388916783342402008-08-07T05:03:00.000-07:002008-08-07T05:14:44.244-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXwbTbSVD0epDuElU3lBUam_pijPXsfVbXWsOp4pUOqKM358Wie9aM5c7P107fC8-OGqoAMTv3tcvSmEXtuxQcUW7UBYrFOIwJSu-qXapf1xLBa1rPnFSvBRC6PuonXrP_8xpUScCN4iw/s1600-h/jeanpaulnacivet.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231748012558397490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXwbTbSVD0epDuElU3lBUam_pijPXsfVbXWsOp4pUOqKM358Wie9aM5c7P107fC8-OGqoAMTv3tcvSmEXtuxQcUW7UBYrFOIwJSu-qXapf1xLBa1rPnFSvBRC6PuonXrP_8xpUScCN4iw/s320/jeanpaulnacivet.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Foi-se o dia<br />em que não me inspirei com tua presença,<br />daí percebi que não brotaram as margaridas de meu jardim </div>Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-77296743571503335962008-08-03T16:34:00.000-07:002008-08-03T16:36:57.820-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLHXUj7upqix0Pj18vRKxShZ5rtIFbCogql5uDLRyMKVzxBOz-lI91hMppxqsf0mLjxQzAVjNdLKO6DgfLulrQQMMEZEyJ2Q0Bgi86pFPQhy8NJPv14NmkkVWtfiz7uaXeeU_xC6slj2o/s1600-h/vidro.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230439461948033314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLHXUj7upqix0Pj18vRKxShZ5rtIFbCogql5uDLRyMKVzxBOz-lI91hMppxqsf0mLjxQzAVjNdLKO6DgfLulrQQMMEZEyJ2Q0Bgi86pFPQhy8NJPv14NmkkVWtfiz7uaXeeU_xC6slj2o/s320/vidro.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Alimento em mim essa estranha mania de juntar cacos,<br />só pra desfrutar do prazer de colar peça por peça<br />e saber que desse copo jamais me desfaço. </div>Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-3675216349151107292008-08-01T05:39:00.000-07:002008-08-01T05:45:18.218-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM0y8v-NT8MmhgFThVdUeQMb2rAMzv9dZpEqn0H2iLMIkf9aXtNaFeDP3Bk5tASjsWmp4xMLOym4L5gVquUMSx7sLKG4QieOQo2DvX1CKOSp6ruajzuBiTFAL5mNgSETAmdbWVQz6BYOE/s1600-h/ceu.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229529428842675570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM0y8v-NT8MmhgFThVdUeQMb2rAMzv9dZpEqn0H2iLMIkf9aXtNaFeDP3Bk5tASjsWmp4xMLOym4L5gVquUMSx7sLKG4QieOQo2DvX1CKOSp6ruajzuBiTFAL5mNgSETAmdbWVQz6BYOE/s320/ceu.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Eu, as nuvens e a lua<br />Fizemos de você<br />O tema principal </div>Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-24789442020794805782008-07-31T06:07:00.000-07:002008-07-31T06:13:54.730-07:00Para Alinne. Por ser quem você é!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIm72HPdE3GMFtxBydqkUKM6LjdNYoJ48mkwzBDjnfRMGcbg0lkQTeKRWCyJ51bcbBYP56YDUo8YiaX_aFUzUgV9jTo4GAcXWuaz2JMEr10aa5LPXQuMQP-vyYDGupzGSVlScqR0VBdX0/s1600-h/alinne.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229165255463934818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIm72HPdE3GMFtxBydqkUKM6LjdNYoJ48mkwzBDjnfRMGcbg0lkQTeKRWCyJ51bcbBYP56YDUo8YiaX_aFUzUgV9jTo4GAcXWuaz2JMEr10aa5LPXQuMQP-vyYDGupzGSVlScqR0VBdX0/s320/alinne.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>As indagações em minha vida parecem não ter fim, é algo tão inerente que já faz parte de minha contraditória personalidade. Penso ser este o motivo de muitos choros na madrugada em busca de respostas que custam em satisfazer a alma. Em minha caminhada de fé no cristianismo, venho descobrindo que Cristo revela-se na mais simplória das respostas, ou seja, em uma ética mínima fundada no cuidado de uns para com os outros. E nessa perspectiva de cuidado, que vi o que a muito tempo não via; o Cristo sendo revelado. Não por uma eloqüência contaminada e arraigada da mais pungente hipocrisia, mas da prática e gestos que fala muito mais quem mil palavras. Gestos que traduzidos a uma linguagem coloquial expressa: “Faças ao outro o que você quer que lhe faça”.<br />Assim foi Biró em sua vida diária, nos ensinando que a riqueza da vida é simples e não se molda aos padrões societários, assim foi Alinne, mostrando que o Cristianismo é prático e traz a vida texto como: “Bem- aventurado os que choram, porque serão consolados” Mt 5:4 </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>* Texto escrito no dia do supultamento de Biró. </div>Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-23507736069881782312008-07-30T07:25:00.000-07:002008-07-30T07:28:13.531-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinafZrUie4DDoGBBii4ZoQU_vgwcGKAkB3dzjsDctLjJDmg3xsBHcgln5nEhHBZ8_7TM-rhMS6G00OEg3s8FMJF5QWimD7Ggr8p3m7OI9q-wZvMc4YrV92lF5AGjcyoo4EX-4TrUHxjgg/s1600-h/mm.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228813396452313522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinafZrUie4DDoGBBii4ZoQU_vgwcGKAkB3dzjsDctLjJDmg3xsBHcgln5nEhHBZ8_7TM-rhMS6G00OEg3s8FMJF5QWimD7Ggr8p3m7OI9q-wZvMc4YrV92lF5AGjcyoo4EX-4TrUHxjgg/s320/mm.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>O que te escrever?<br />Tem que ser lindo como Alice...<br />Aliciado, alicerçado<br />Que não se apague,<br />Mas se apegue e de ti não saia<br />Onde seu olhar entenda<br />Esse substantivo abstrato<br />Entregue a você. </div>Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-54901193286514891582008-07-29T14:42:00.000-07:002008-07-29T17:33:06.345-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl2hcDPYYuD_qYs-Jy6JnswbitT4JHJI1IUc3vg8CItPONRSEyK4PyHNqNPHWbwIadAOmEJnlOM3AUct-QebkhAWEpRiPPzn8QInC_k_7tNVAhxpAo6D00_nsT8ZVFlidVLZlO10y0Hvw/s1600-h/meninas.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228555796771182226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl2hcDPYYuD_qYs-Jy6JnswbitT4JHJI1IUc3vg8CItPONRSEyK4PyHNqNPHWbwIadAOmEJnlOM3AUct-QebkhAWEpRiPPzn8QInC_k_7tNVAhxpAo6D00_nsT8ZVFlidVLZlO10y0Hvw/s320/meninas.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Sentimento que se preze<br />Saí do singular<br />E vai para o plural,<br />Na variação de um toque composto<br />Onde eu dentro, não faz tum<br />Mas tum-tum </div>Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-49824050217948748792008-07-24T07:30:00.000-07:002008-07-24T07:34:10.088-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDfCYG-S5JkW28iG_Mes0pwihwZpPHDimf6YiDrkh1XmYU4WSXM2R9qKhCkWREBxEI3w18ANQxaABGRagGsucKuhVF5RUKWCvxOOq1QMRc5OJ_AcPrIWIJJaZs4v6rLO3LgpNOMs-FcCw/s1600-h/café+porteño.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226588743179515266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDfCYG-S5JkW28iG_Mes0pwihwZpPHDimf6YiDrkh1XmYU4WSXM2R9qKhCkWREBxEI3w18ANQxaABGRagGsucKuhVF5RUKWCvxOOq1QMRc5OJ_AcPrIWIJJaZs4v6rLO3LgpNOMs-FcCw/s320/caf%C3%A9+porte%C3%B1o.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Aqui está você!<br />Minha palavra poética<br />Busca significado<br />Para tudo isso que sinto.</div>Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-72408123777777906562008-07-23T12:19:00.000-07:002008-07-23T12:21:15.040-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqU5pe2QcdU92euOHsgUeynuJYU-laoUbF35gAJc8wfyiirIMJZYo4qohm3dEFN2hPPT4FmHhccdOG_IY_d1ud4d5gcw2k0WWUJh0Q_nfWTRQ94jzs9hhOXnDxtwuSphwxqKcZFG8XsVM/s1600-h/carrosel.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226291687215154434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqU5pe2QcdU92euOHsgUeynuJYU-laoUbF35gAJc8wfyiirIMJZYo4qohm3dEFN2hPPT4FmHhccdOG_IY_d1ud4d5gcw2k0WWUJh0Q_nfWTRQ94jzs9hhOXnDxtwuSphwxqKcZFG8XsVM/s320/carrosel.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Ventos frios<br />Trazendo à lembrança<br />Bons abraços. </div>Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-52721105354385264862008-07-19T17:34:00.001-07:002008-07-19T17:35:01.596-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBlrfQiYkb2EclYTnZ85KoT-JC4O40blgm3iH0toBHNzMzkcuREd6bNjJThL9GIpHfLGj3qsLr6L0ppLVyVsts7MrBaduEi-CgZ9_NRGdtszL8bgVT9lkZYQgFyHuSpGxpVk5fFsQdCc0/s1600-h/adeus.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224888226517551298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBlrfQiYkb2EclYTnZ85KoT-JC4O40blgm3iH0toBHNzMzkcuREd6bNjJThL9GIpHfLGj3qsLr6L0ppLVyVsts7MrBaduEi-CgZ9_NRGdtszL8bgVT9lkZYQgFyHuSpGxpVk5fFsQdCc0/s320/adeus.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br />...uma passividade apocalíptica;<br />Aqui em mim, tudo finda! </div>Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-71015704856133492612008-07-17T16:18:00.001-07:002008-07-17T16:19:24.454-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVPdsZP6GzT3n5W_VlvaZEPVkw57VFgXpZcSkYp1khI4QpCYAz5MCjQ1tVNC3yGKleeuCV3eOayoFryxPLx7TYNSEvHbzkpXG_s3nlo1o0O19sNrvrA-OUoeBkUvId6JwgGZHAqMcMSlQ/s1600-h/samba.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224126530662851410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVPdsZP6GzT3n5W_VlvaZEPVkw57VFgXpZcSkYp1khI4QpCYAz5MCjQ1tVNC3yGKleeuCV3eOayoFryxPLx7TYNSEvHbzkpXG_s3nlo1o0O19sNrvrA-OUoeBkUvId6JwgGZHAqMcMSlQ/s320/samba.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>No carnaval do meu coração<br />Os blocos desfilaram<br />As agremiações passaram,<br />Mas foi em você<br />Que fiz meu melhor cortejo. </div>Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-91018600600038903502008-07-17T15:29:00.000-07:002008-07-17T15:32:15.036-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVFLeTTWtoghhUUXAD4yUvI_6DFrCmfyiSCPdGk6TpxemaPxI6SaTQr9XtUPP4mRq_xC2fWE_NkubtMKNwTGhgvnt_rm9QxEQy8ny9dWoauTj9Gla6oi2wNknvbUJzMnXHFXPibFAfJK4/s1600-h/maio+68.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224114413447017634" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVFLeTTWtoghhUUXAD4yUvI_6DFrCmfyiSCPdGk6TpxemaPxI6SaTQr9XtUPP4mRq_xC2fWE_NkubtMKNwTGhgvnt_rm9QxEQy8ny9dWoauTj9Gla6oi2wNknvbUJzMnXHFXPibFAfJK4/s320/maio+68.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Não sou seu produto<br />Fonte de lucro<br />Ou mais-valia.<br />Seu estilo neoliberal<br />Vai de encontro a minha estatização,<br />Sou Iraque.<br />Você: “ American life style” </div>Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-7982573334666407292008-07-12T14:48:00.000-07:002008-07-12T15:06:49.407-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSjpieOyxR6uG3Jjo2xlIZkw3AxzmVb9K9R-dtAfMDPYjW3k8tyuHIkBzpdwu2H01NAJ5jsK27FLHRZ44Fg9jPXWQN7jM2pUupXArTlaO2n-cbfPcld0M6LXEzOM3NlsklN1PDjeEcaTU/s1600-h/preto.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222252002269810882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSjpieOyxR6uG3Jjo2xlIZkw3AxzmVb9K9R-dtAfMDPYjW3k8tyuHIkBzpdwu2H01NAJ5jsK27FLHRZ44Fg9jPXWQN7jM2pUupXArTlaO2n-cbfPcld0M6LXEzOM3NlsklN1PDjeEcaTU/s320/preto.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Esse rebento diário,<br />Flui na expectativa de desmembrar-me.<br />E deixar em ti meu amor, o que tenho de melhor.<br />Que meus versos emanados sejam pra ti e só pra ti. </div>Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-90462464173906247532008-07-12T08:44:00.000-07:002008-07-12T08:45:34.784-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4ADen60dLh8EVjvirWCNiZ1LsGfS-_0yscLA6rCrYMT4WQ8ZHrBcEe6m9PQbRHTAN__8bcxgSuPqdC-hn4LTl2bkRl0xy0Bppq9_G07hyphenhypheneAGJkmXzjwKeMhmQAtOIBaKf7M7RlwySOWY/s1600-h/borboleta.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222154213094168210" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4ADen60dLh8EVjvirWCNiZ1LsGfS-_0yscLA6rCrYMT4WQ8ZHrBcEe6m9PQbRHTAN__8bcxgSuPqdC-hn4LTl2bkRl0xy0Bppq9_G07hyphenhypheneAGJkmXzjwKeMhmQAtOIBaKf7M7RlwySOWY/s320/borboleta.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Sem meio nem fim,<br />Apenas o início<br />De seu olhar</div>Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-56800135094311204122008-07-12T08:34:00.000-07:002008-07-12T08:39:58.134-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE-6a92hTuAJOjHi6LhJ3164HDSIa7ruJQTcFaW5IJqguBvxBcYxmZnqjPVm9D-mswMhMeLIv_NeGE-Yr1oVaajdpCo8B_1WFaMtXkrbm22SFWR_K3MWVcCCHjtDgizCfviq9J3B7en7w/s1600-h/lavadeira.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222152747242744066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE-6a92hTuAJOjHi6LhJ3164HDSIa7ruJQTcFaW5IJqguBvxBcYxmZnqjPVm9D-mswMhMeLIv_NeGE-Yr1oVaajdpCo8B_1WFaMtXkrbm22SFWR_K3MWVcCCHjtDgizCfviq9J3B7en7w/s320/lavadeira.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Um dia de sol<br />Tira a lavadeira<br />Manchas do passado </div>Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-34503357875534499162008-07-12T08:21:00.000-07:002008-07-12T14:39:10.798-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpLWJ81P1OoKvwhurp_Jl74VHslEFQUBlZnlgmYYk9hFBIFxlTMJxy_-sMupnGhwYmNv9BG-IAHnvkvcqxTpU7qQtQ30gH1pO-Plerox-Xb5tFpJHfUQEsIh7sCs1WtwVichnO0oSyuQo/s1600-h/eu+e+marcio.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222148881341839234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpLWJ81P1OoKvwhurp_Jl74VHslEFQUBlZnlgmYYk9hFBIFxlTMJxy_-sMupnGhwYmNv9BG-IAHnvkvcqxTpU7qQtQ30gH1pO-Plerox-Xb5tFpJHfUQEsIh7sCs1WtwVichnO0oSyuQo/s320/eu+e+marcio.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><div></div><br /><div></div><div></div><br /><div>Se queres voar<br />Não te prendas a pedra<br />És espírito leve,</div><div>apenas sopra </div><br /><div></div>Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-47245527354415719642008-07-10T07:25:00.000-07:002008-07-12T08:17:18.640-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3iKq1u2jHP30OQpH4usxKCaW_SZLwy_TXthjhyNSEqvdvyJr_wXcVKtzXGPDjAfaIhgQ9G7XH4hE49h2VPjm8DR1x8Qd9cDxXQbmeU1SPyp9ftdJFessqDoAt6UAizvI8qZjo9kIcWxs/s1600-h/lemiski.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221391730140142178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3iKq1u2jHP30OQpH4usxKCaW_SZLwy_TXthjhyNSEqvdvyJr_wXcVKtzXGPDjAfaIhgQ9G7XH4hE49h2VPjm8DR1x8Qd9cDxXQbmeU1SPyp9ftdJFessqDoAt6UAizvI8qZjo9kIcWxs/s320/lemiski.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>No fim das contas sempre recorro às letras.<br />E aos poucos vou parindo meu poema<br />Daí ele chora<br />E o digo que esse choro é meu...<br />Mas ele insiste em acompanhar-me,<br />Poeta e poema<br />Casal perfeito!<br />Que se deu, não em igreja, nem no civil.<br />Mas no meu cio<br />No meu vil...<br />Em quando quis te mandar<br />Pra puta que pariu.</div><div></div><div>Marcela M. </div>Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4995763608722092994.post-51522507257233692122008-07-10T07:19:00.000-07:002008-07-10T07:24:52.812-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf-x0mnkdIfziwIXrosdZzsyYIdjrUidOHy573P97BMRZ5r0ET__6yup9gdffNQUVWzjoEstwhga4Hb-cl-RCK8HT1BzCsAYmaUIkf-Q9HY0cB-xPIa41Pg93FoxBwM2C55PPaWWgg2d0/s1600-h/eu.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221391132116342978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf-x0mnkdIfziwIXrosdZzsyYIdjrUidOHy573P97BMRZ5r0ET__6yup9gdffNQUVWzjoEstwhga4Hb-cl-RCK8HT1BzCsAYmaUIkf-Q9HY0cB-xPIa41Pg93FoxBwM2C55PPaWWgg2d0/s320/eu.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>... Só não espere a mesmice desse encontro que teve hora marcada<br />e a gente nem tinha programado. É meio sem nexo, bossa-nova com rock.<br />mistura que da toque, que da choque...que vai dá o que falar. Só não sei o que; o amor não se fala, se vive! </div>Marcela M.http://www.blogger.com/profile/14092329892353577083noreply@blogger.com2