tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78255891914594701512024-03-18T05:35:50.487-07:00CURVAS,RETAS E ESQUINAS. by Betonicou©Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.comBlogger248125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-219126232584924012024-03-04T01:19:00.000-08:002024-03-04T08:27:47.192-08:00 Transcendência: A Poesia da Alma© Copyright<p style="text-align: left;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglm5gZ6c3TkCSTV-p0S9TxiBSUH6h5-pe0aHTnHeHRr9ScQ-RRWXD3KVvDPd54piYsPnOtRPxKtmUke314ESK9NyjMix0Ezpo-Ji4z8E10YaDAFx5QQ4a74HdGSMrn_1TOkwX_wqJXCRhT9ugGs8LQciyjMfEqG9mYaRVJPaXvQmLFqG2TbboqmV93C7Q/s500/OIG_-_2023-11-15T114749.620-removebg-preview.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglm5gZ6c3TkCSTV-p0S9TxiBSUH6h5-pe0aHTnHeHRr9ScQ-RRWXD3KVvDPd54piYsPnOtRPxKtmUke314ESK9NyjMix0Ezpo-Ji4z8E10YaDAFx5QQ4a74HdGSMrn_1TOkwX_wqJXCRhT9ugGs8LQciyjMfEqG9mYaRVJPaXvQmLFqG2TbboqmV93C7Q/s320/OIG_-_2023-11-15T114749.620-removebg-preview.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Queria ter pés de
vento,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a correr veloz na
trilha liberta<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">da inocência original.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Queria ser flor de
orquídea,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a brotar do lodo puro e
belo,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a perfumar o ar com o
meu zelo,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a iluminar o mundo com
o meu<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> voto.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Queria ser pedra
preciosa,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a brilhar no fundo da
caverna<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> escura,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a refletir a luz da lua
pura.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Ser Abá, ser naurú, a
adornar o<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">colo da kuña,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">da mulher formosa.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Queria ser fogo
sagrado,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a aquecer o coração do
povo<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">sofrido.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">A iluminar o caminho do
perdido.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">A consumir o mal com o
meu<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">destino.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Queria ser tudo e nada,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a transcender a forma e
a matéria,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a ser espírito livre na
fronteira,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a ser amor em toda a
jornada.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Queria ter asas de luz,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a voar alto no céu sem
limites<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">aa liberdade infinita.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Queria ser gota de
chuva,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a cair do céu limpo e sereno,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a regar a terra com o
meu<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> carinho,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a refrescar o mundo com
o meu<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> sonho.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Queria ser estrela
cadente,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a cruzar o espaço com
um rastro<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> de brilho<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a realizar o desejo de
um menino.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Ser Anhangá, ser Tupã,
a proteger<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a vida da mata,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">da natureza imponente.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Queria ser música
sagrada,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a tocar a alma do povo
alegre,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a inspirar o ritmo do
valente,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a harmonizar o bem com
o meu<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> canto.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Queria ser tudo e nada,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a transcender o som e a
cor,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a ser energia pura na
explosão,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a ser amor em toda a
canção.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Desejo de ser tudo, na
natureza,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">a<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> transcendência, amor em cada instante.</span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFbh6d2eX4pp5YzNaxN10J-SJYqwzIPXRRwnx0siGMKdAoO0j2Y5QfiwsKdn0lTCW9kkfdU1uMbAW64zMp_mN-L6INGRuvrgI6YqR1B0HtLcdNA4_5_NPPai05QdGR9qKxm2Sy-MuqgojblddmdtE4PENqPByGmfNpQoA4I52-1YY9q3sc36Y7v1CcwEw/s500/OIG_-_2023-11-08T224144.606-removebg-preview.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFbh6d2eX4pp5YzNaxN10J-SJYqwzIPXRRwnx0siGMKdAoO0j2Y5QfiwsKdn0lTCW9kkfdU1uMbAW64zMp_mN-L6INGRuvrgI6YqR1B0HtLcdNA4_5_NPPai05QdGR9qKxm2Sy-MuqgojblddmdtE4PENqPByGmfNpQoA4I52-1YY9q3sc36Y7v1CcwEw/s320/OIG_-_2023-11-08T224144.606-removebg-preview.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><h3 align="center"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">Betonicou</span><i><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">©</span></i></span></span></h3></div><br /><span style="font-family: Harrington;"><i style="color: #111111; font-family: "Times New Roman";">Imagens e texto protegidos pela lei de direitos autorais.</i></span><p></p><p>
</p>
Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-18914364870903455052024-02-06T17:21:00.000-08:002024-02-06T17:21:34.944-08:00Pássaro Terrestre © Copyright<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPC29JWWQBY19nj8tnX6nmdAd-SbxJUsgAErllkIOnffafh6CKRg8cYYux8bB1dnmcP5x9w20pz91x1mgOkfNXt9-6LDnstDgAFI_o6-OEqvIWT4JQWtd19U-QJcOelfdO5yHXCKjm0e-mOWbeqNMkS48NLt-kV9VwfpXo4zHDIcaWjN8T9hrbjwSTKuw/s482/728fe6765d8c148776b50947d0940a91%20(1).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="482" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPC29JWWQBY19nj8tnX6nmdAd-SbxJUsgAErllkIOnffafh6CKRg8cYYux8bB1dnmcP5x9w20pz91x1mgOkfNXt9-6LDnstDgAFI_o6-OEqvIWT4JQWtd19U-QJcOelfdO5yHXCKjm0e-mOWbeqNMkS48NLt-kV9VwfpXo4zHDIcaWjN8T9hrbjwSTKuw/s320/728fe6765d8c148776b50947d0940a91%20(1).jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Eu escrevo, apenas escrevo, mas
nem sempre foi assim. Houve um tempo em que eu escrevia para a natureza, para
as coisas simples. Periodicamente ainda escrevo. Atento para os bichos e as
plantas, para o chão e o céu. Sempre escrevi como quem brinca, como quem
imagina e sonha, como quem se encanta e também, como quem se borda e tece.
Brotavam as palavras que nasciam de mim, sem que eu me preocupasse com as
regras ou os sentidos. Subjetivamente eu ouvia e via a beleza do ínfimo
abraçando a grandeza do infinito. Eu escrevia com o olhar de criança, com a
alma de pássaro e a mão desenhista de ar. Mas algo mudou em mim. Talvez tenha
sido o tempo, que me fez crescer e envelhecer. Talvez tenha sido o mundo, que
me fez ver e refletir. Talvez tenha sido o humano, que me fez sentir e
renascer. O fato é que eu comecei a escrever a natureza do humano (reflexos de
mim), para as coisas complexas e importantes do homem, para o corpo e a alma.
Como quem busca, como quem questiona, como quem se espanta. Como quem compara a
rocha e o céu, com as palavras que aprendi dos outros, tentando seguir as
normas e os significados. Comecei a me expressar como os poetas que me
mostraram a diversidade das emoções, a poesia de tudo, a dor do útil e a leveza
da pluma que navega no vento. Aprendi a bordar palavras com o olhar de adulto,
com a alma agarrada ao chão, com a mão estendida para o sentido do fogo e o
fluxo do rio. Eu não sei se evoluí ou se regredi. Não sei se me encontrei ou se
me perdi. Não sei se me aproximei ou me afastei do humano. Eu só sei que eu
escrevo, apenas escrevo. Às vezes, eu sinto que tenho uma alma de pássaro,
outras vezes, uma mão coerente com a correnteza das águas. E que, às vezes, eu
sinto saudade da natureza, das coisas simples que piam, nadam ou apenas dormem
uma inércia involuntária. Eu invejo o grito da imensidão estacionada das
pedras. As pedras se deitam, em prece aos bichos e às plantas, ao chão e ao
vazio do céu. Não se iludam! “As rochas veem e cultuam, em silêncio.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcRSOIYV_0qXIgjFasGCxMasBxrWoQcowTK1kEjH82d16xxBH0om8RDyRY5pWK84g8_xwnFfhbWRQOqKOvCWQQXn0kP2tvWFannI-J50TljbQX3iEhkqEa6TOJrPz4zAwQFcTEjE3IIJI88fFLJL1t09z-1q_rGanp_j23yjhyzdD3JeNphnzXjKVXXvE/s797/b3e54831b7760c8ad35096529b63ea21.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="797" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcRSOIYV_0qXIgjFasGCxMasBxrWoQcowTK1kEjH82d16xxBH0om8RDyRY5pWK84g8_xwnFfhbWRQOqKOvCWQQXn0kP2tvWFannI-J50TljbQX3iEhkqEa6TOJrPz4zAwQFcTEjE3IIJI88fFLJL1t09z-1q_rGanp_j23yjhyzdD3JeNphnzXjKVXXvE/s320/b3e54831b7760c8ad35096529b63ea21.jpg" width="226" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><h3 align="center" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #7f6000;"><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">Betonicou</span><i><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">©</span></i></span></span></h3><div><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #7f6000;">Arte: simona
dimitri</span><span style="color: #111111;"><o:p></o:p></span></p></span></span></div><div><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><br /></span></span></div></span><p></p><span style="color: #111111; font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Meus queridos, estarei de férias. Volto no fim de Fevereiro! Até lá!</span><p></p>Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-30547137758251425672024-01-26T16:24:00.000-08:002024-01-28T03:34:57.910-08:00Antíteses © Copyright<p> </p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYhFyoG5cr5h8kFvlQIs50MiU-kvXKbfPwQhLhYclTu1yjbUxltJ0284wgQG_S5WbjTf0etdtp3Kz6rSQg_-XGWV2Tx4Mwe-bw8lQmv1csTscrx9OFHSU3hqpty8vAhQI-kGzvQTkYli1vd3RaWM-hmLax-EPf7B0y28iPUFFfb4mZUR9iz56TCJiAlD8/s680/2057d45a41d8cf6e6f532a309f994936.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="680" data-original-width="471" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYhFyoG5cr5h8kFvlQIs50MiU-kvXKbfPwQhLhYclTu1yjbUxltJ0284wgQG_S5WbjTf0etdtp3Kz6rSQg_-XGWV2Tx4Mwe-bw8lQmv1csTscrx9OFHSU3hqpty8vAhQI-kGzvQTkYli1vd3RaWM-hmLax-EPf7B0y28iPUFFfb4mZUR9iz56TCJiAlD8/s320/2057d45a41d8cf6e6f532a309f994936.jpg" width="222" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Ai de nós, que oramos com voz<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">alta,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Que nos ferimos com a lâmina,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">E nos espetamos com o espinho e a<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>flor.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Ai de nós, que andamos sob a<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>prata.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Se das nuvens a tormenta nos<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">aflige,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Se o infinito nos abriga,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Com a gota e o trovão<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">A lua verte raios; e a maldade<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>nos faz ouvir murmúrios.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Os grilos trilam, em coro com a<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>cigarra, um canto úmido.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Se paz na guerra é vida e sorte<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">A morte é o silêncio, o sufoco, o<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>engasgo, e o fim do grito<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Ai de nós, que buscamos a<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>verdade,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Se a mentira nos seduz e nos<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>acalma.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Que nos perdemos na estrada,</span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">E nos achamos na ilusão e na<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>demência.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Ai de nós, que sonhamos com o<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ouro.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Se das estrelas a escuridão nos<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">cerca,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Se o destino nos assusta,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Com a sorte e o revés.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">O sol nasce e se põe; e a<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>esperança nos faz ver o<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>horizonte.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Os pássaros planam, em harmonia<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>com o vento, um canto livre.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Se amor na dor é força e fé.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">A vida é a luz que fulge; o<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>coração que pulsa, e canta o<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>hino.</span></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><o:p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3W4XQhaBIfPqRs088YhMDUb06giRbh0QDbFIJC4_28mJ3S3J3fSjSd1A4up4m6SGDiEXQKDyddb6Z-O4TMDUrLcLoLJgx_0z4BlZWC7K0HTYtIC4iNzvnCCDuGB4Gieqr_I0VR2z-QlpQCek5f-p46A3Ndd-6OJDU1N8CSK5_r2CUX58c-MoKnD8rwho/s500/e79b06fc89784a2a56036a8862f19eb8.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="328" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3W4XQhaBIfPqRs088YhMDUb06giRbh0QDbFIJC4_28mJ3S3J3fSjSd1A4up4m6SGDiEXQKDyddb6Z-O4TMDUrLcLoLJgx_0z4BlZWC7K0HTYtIC4iNzvnCCDuGB4Gieqr_I0VR2z-QlpQCek5f-p46A3Ndd-6OJDU1N8CSK5_r2CUX58c-MoKnD8rwho/s320/e79b06fc89784a2a56036a8862f19eb8.jpg" width="210" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><h3 align="center"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">Betonicou</span><i><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">©</span></i></span></span></h3></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Arte: <span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 10pt; text-align: left;">Rebecca Rebouche</span></div></o:p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
</div>Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-62309800844884330752024-01-08T15:48:00.000-08:002024-01-08T15:48:17.360-08:00Contrastes© Copyright<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWQwtyB5oT2Gb5-0VDTBV2aQnZ6fSDU-QYwlOYQa2LU_pG0OOMNvTUGvHu1E6fdkqP1wmOA6Zy5RVtlYSDec441iqGr5iUpe28osBdH7bh3NDKVFoRtebbM9U-2tncj8r2-UY2cXFQ7oj22lsJQmsS3CU58D8hezJKA70EgYemZpU2zAMbJE1Ha9reXgc/s1024/OIG%20-%202023-11-08T165659.591.jfif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWQwtyB5oT2Gb5-0VDTBV2aQnZ6fSDU-QYwlOYQa2LU_pG0OOMNvTUGvHu1E6fdkqP1wmOA6Zy5RVtlYSDec441iqGr5iUpe28osBdH7bh3NDKVFoRtebbM9U-2tncj8r2-UY2cXFQ7oj22lsJQmsS3CU58D8hezJKA70EgYemZpU2zAMbJE1Ha9reXgc/s320/OIG%20-%202023-11-08T165659.591.jfif" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">Ser
poeta é viver entre contrastes.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">Entre
o vento e a porta, a tampa<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">e a garrafa,
a água e a represa,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;"> os versos e as palavras aos ventos.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">Brinca-se
de esmurrar o vento e<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">navegar
nas nuvens. Ouço o canto<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;"> do curió e vejo o voo soberano do<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;"> condor.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">Um
canta a vida, outro a morte.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">Um voa
livre, outro à sorte. Um<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;"> tem a pluma, outro a pele. Um tem<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">a voz,
outro o silêncio.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">Mas
ambos são asas do céu, que<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;"> enfeitam o mundo com suas cores,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">que
ensinam o valor da<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;"> diversidade, que inspiram a arte<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">da
poesia.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">E
quando se é sol e lua, dia e<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;"> noite, luz e sombra, amor e dor<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">no
coração.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">Despede-se
do sol que se põe e<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;"> abraça a lua que se ergue. Sinto<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">o
calor do seu amor e o frio da<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;"> sua ausência.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">Um
brilha a vida, outro a morte.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">Um
ilumina o caminho, outro o<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;"> destino. Um tem o fogo, outro a<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">prata.
Um tem a voz, outro o eco.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">Mas
ambos são astros do céu, que<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;"> regem o mundo com seus ciclos,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;"> que mostram o sentido da saudade,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">que
revelam a beleza da poesia do<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;"> infinito.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">E
quando se é flor e espinho,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;"> perfume e dor, beleza e ferida,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;"> paixão e desilusão.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">Agradece-se
à flor que se abre e<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;"> aceita-se o espinho que se crava.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;"> Sinto o aroma do seu carinho e a<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">ponta
da sua partida.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">Uma
exala a vida, outra a morte.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">Uma
enfeita o jardim, outra o<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">corte.
Uma tem a pétala, outra a<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">agulha.
Uma tem o mel, outro o<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;"> fel.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">Mas
ambas são dons da natureza,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">que
encantam o mundo com suas<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">formas,
que ensinam o valor da<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">delicadeza,
que inspiram a arte<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">da
poesia das rosas.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;">
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNFOftXF4jBsu1IeUNz8RdBsPbmeN-Bd8uQIRjGBEugEIB12P01VhkoUWrLOP4n9OJKCcFcCR_vR2_lCPLARsm5jEs-M5zyTw9Hu9Smzp1poU76vJkL_Ne8VKKX4p3xvmLcdYIoX-NXkPHROKlRJy3OxjfdetNy6ueqGVwG7wXlDMZ4h_oAn1MOELeUAc/s1024/OIG.FhI61DfZFm.jfif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNFOftXF4jBsu1IeUNz8RdBsPbmeN-Bd8uQIRjGBEugEIB12P01VhkoUWrLOP4n9OJKCcFcCR_vR2_lCPLARsm5jEs-M5zyTw9Hu9Smzp1poU76vJkL_Ne8VKKX4p3xvmLcdYIoX-NXkPHROKlRJy3OxjfdetNy6ueqGVwG7wXlDMZ4h_oAn1MOELeUAc/s320/OIG.FhI61DfZFm.jfif" width="320" /></a></div><h3 align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">Betonicou</span><i><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">©</span></i></span></span></h3><div><br /></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-19461395222996151522023-12-31T04:32:00.000-08:002023-12-31T04:39:52.197-08:00O Leão Jardineiro© Copyright<p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFdtQHVOnXBd_iEvCUCdOPz6wtbWDHazGXdT2WJmjhptPnK9Xmc1M4Qu7AZdpJhq2b2yIGMB1UUURf5Ay5QmvSRwyXS4xXrlAzYIRv__h4WOmgQooExO9VozWvUiX_fubFCK-0Oa2S34R3M3DYra83dIRH4MyUenO6F1c3BoETYUkQ3Wbvh5Li2hkDvVo/s1024/OIG.8PbWZZc98F7d.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFdtQHVOnXBd_iEvCUCdOPz6wtbWDHazGXdT2WJmjhptPnK9Xmc1M4Qu7AZdpJhq2b2yIGMB1UUURf5Ay5QmvSRwyXS4xXrlAzYIRv__h4WOmgQooExO9VozWvUiX_fubFCK-0Oa2S34R3M3DYra83dIRH4MyUenO6F1c3BoETYUkQ3Wbvh5Li2hkDvVo/s320/OIG.8PbWZZc98F7d.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div> <br /><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Deixo para trás o que
não espero<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> mais<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">As pétalas secas, os
caules<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> partidos<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Os sentimentos presos,
as<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">lembranças feridas<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Vejo na rua o destino,
uma fé<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> cega e muda<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Como um pássaro sem
asas, um rio<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> sem água<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Mas eu via o leão,
majestoso e<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> sereno<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Sobre as sandálias de
um<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">carpinteiro<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">E minha cegueira se
foi, quando a<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">rosa me curou<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Com seus espinhos de
luz<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">E vi a vida<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Deixo para trás as
sombras, as<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> visões que não tive<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Vejo à frente o
janeiro, de cores<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">e flores<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">A flor que me curou, o
leão que<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">me guiou<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">O janeiro vem e, depois
dele,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">outros virão<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Deixando para trás as
dores, os<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">vícios, as dúvidas<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Há um leão que planta
em meu<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> peito<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">A mais bela das
primaveras<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">E rugia em meu coração<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">O som do amor<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Troquei a escuridão
pela luz<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">O frio pelo calor<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">A tristeza pela alegria<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">O cheiro de rosas<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">O sabor de mel<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">A cura que me trouxe, o
leão e a<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> flor</span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNRPpQvNiF_IOo7Ad57TkhlAESyctqtzlyFGP7QwLByMwZUVRA4XS9PCVHZces8h8hn2gPw1g5wTGhb_dqYJbIgEfiHA5NbVfc_MoL1ZNu6bthBAUS0sUf2HmzpEqnjevD7GgvxuZ-zHQzyeeAKkanzkWxmatO5ei15DA7Xd52p4PFhtNnbJRhTW01bzA/s1024/OIG.zdwD3Xf.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNRPpQvNiF_IOo7Ad57TkhlAESyctqtzlyFGP7QwLByMwZUVRA4XS9PCVHZces8h8hn2gPw1g5wTGhb_dqYJbIgEfiHA5NbVfc_MoL1ZNu6bthBAUS0sUf2HmzpEqnjevD7GgvxuZ-zHQzyeeAKkanzkWxmatO5ei15DA7Xd52p4PFhtNnbJRhTW01bzA/s320/OIG.zdwD3Xf.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><h3 align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">Betonicou</span><i><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">©</span></i></span></span></h3><div><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Que
neste ano você deixe o passado e siga com fé e esperança. Que a luz, o calor, a
alegria e o amor do leão e da flor lhe acompanhem. Que você seja forte,
corajoso, belo e perfumado. Que tenha um ano novo de cores e flores. Feliz 2024!
Feliz ano novo!<o:p></o:p></span></p></span></span></div><div><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><i><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></i></span></span></div><div><span><span style="color: #111111;"><i>Imagens e texto protegidos pela lei de direitos autorais.</i></span></span></div><div><span><span style="color: #111111;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div><div><span><span style="color: #111111;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div><div><span><span style="color: #111111;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-43612379996888339782023-12-11T12:42:00.000-08:002023-12-11T12:42:16.662-08:00Luz Celestial: A Mensagem de Amor e Esperança do Natal<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSwGUZRIqlHeIK0xSnVdSSGGcEgjwmWrkpvRHzmUIll-oyz84Gfidhu1OIM9ihI8RzLEvDed0bsx3OPx-KfJsRYzyQkTUCtS0AcxDryVqSeGxrzgzX37C_ARCzTVgl3cGtnIpIf-J84I-kdldFuKxYqYQ5PIcKR8CRKpKJv3mgS77VgtZB0hXNTR-m77U/s320/unnamed%20(5)%20(1)%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="283" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSwGUZRIqlHeIK0xSnVdSSGGcEgjwmWrkpvRHzmUIll-oyz84Gfidhu1OIM9ihI8RzLEvDed0bsx3OPx-KfJsRYzyQkTUCtS0AcxDryVqSeGxrzgzX37C_ARCzTVgl3cGtnIpIf-J84I-kdldFuKxYqYQ5PIcKR8CRKpKJv3mgS77VgtZB0hXNTR-m77U/s1600/unnamed%20(5)%20(1)%20(2).jpg" width="283" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Na
noite mais silenciosa do ano, quando as estrelas brilham com uma luz especial,
celebramos o nascimento de uma criança que mudaria o mundo. Essa criança, o
filho do Deus supremo, veio como um mensageiro de amor e esperança.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Os serafins,
servos fiéis do Altíssimo, anunciaram sua chegada com cânticos de alegria,
espalhando a notícia aos pastores e a todos que tinham corações abertos para
receber a mensagem divina.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Essa
noite sagrada, a Noite de Natal, é um lembrete do poder que nos une e nos
eleva - o poder do amor incondicional. Um amor tão grande que foi capaz de
enviar o próprio filho para estar entre nós, ensinar-nos e guiar-nos no caminho
da luz.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">E
assim, a cada ano, ao celebrarmos o Natal, relembramos os mensageiros
celestiais e a dádiva preciosa que recebemos. Acreditamos que, mesmo que
não vejamos, há forças celestiais ao nosso redor, protegendo-nos e
inspirando-nos a sermos melhores a cada dia.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Que
o espírito do Natal preencha seu coração com paz e alegria, e que o amor
divino ilumine seu caminho durante todo o ano que está por nascer. Que possamos
todos praticar atos de bondade e compaixão, refletindo o verdadeiro espírito
natalino em nossas ações diárias.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"><b>Postagem
Participativa</b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">A
pedido da nossa querida amiga Roselia, estendemos nossos corações e mãos em
união para celebrar esta época festiva. Que o espírito do Natal preencha cada
lar com amor, paz e alegria. Um Feliz Natal a todos! Que possamos
compartilhar momentos de felicidade e criar memórias que aquecerão nossos
corações por todos os Natais que virão.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><h3 align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">Betonicou</span><i><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">©</span></i></span></span></h3><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"></span><p></p>Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-4811773252013686762023-12-02T11:35:00.000-08:002023-12-02T12:10:21.509-08:00A Indiferença do Ego e o Vinho da Razão© Copyright<p style="margin-bottom: 3pt; tab-stops: 45.8pt 91.6pt 137.4pt 183.2pt 229.0pt 274.8pt 320.6pt 366.4pt 412.2pt 458.0pt 503.8pt 549.6pt 595.4pt 641.2pt 687.0pt 732.8pt; text-align: justify;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOKJ5W2EL39QBxQwBFz2ShU1qNFDLb9tyvBrWHuukOjjhNReKqSp2vy5eb0R1fa8zKvvBJ-4T1PqFKQEq44CBS6HPJXlfztTZpRpELeM1rRZFmhKMUBkkvj99ESJT-eU6BfVkdAXoOBjIh6H9mGtXLpfOu96bZmGDOCyMZkxr91uKtELH2ZJkiQU5r9Cc/s500/c00090141c29478284f2b595a867964d.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="266" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOKJ5W2EL39QBxQwBFz2ShU1qNFDLb9tyvBrWHuukOjjhNReKqSp2vy5eb0R1fa8zKvvBJ-4T1PqFKQEq44CBS6HPJXlfztTZpRpELeM1rRZFmhKMUBkkvj99ESJT-eU6BfVkdAXoOBjIh6H9mGtXLpfOu96bZmGDOCyMZkxr91uKtELH2ZJkiQU5r9Cc/s320/c00090141c29478284f2b595a867964d.jpg" width="170" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">A indiferença é
assim:<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Sem fogo se
derrete,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">alimentada pelo
ego que se vê<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> cristalino.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Sem tocar
espanca.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Exige o que lhe
é devido,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">pelo credo que
vê opaco o<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> diferente.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Não são todos os
homens que<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> aspiram um olhar retilíneo;<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">olhar de
horizonte.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Se é
indiferente,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">pouco se há de
responsabilidade.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Pelo olhar que
enxerga e julga<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> como tirano.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Nem todos têm
idade para se<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">curvar;<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">se moço,
curva-se aos prazeres,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">indiferente à
responsabilidade<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> que lhe cabe.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Se idoso: já
estando curvo,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">sob o peso da
experiência,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">quase sempre se
eleva,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">mesmo sob o peso
da idade.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">A humildade se
curva,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">pois diferente
da indiferença do<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> ego,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">apenas se
abaixa;<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">para catar os
cacos de uma<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">vaidade largada
e despercebida de<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> si mesma, no chão.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Vinho me deixa
diferente,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">pois a razão
bêbada se descontrai<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> em meros e desapegados<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">pressupostos.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Os bêbados,
líricos de tudo,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> vivem diferentes.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Beber vinho para
esquecer a<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> indiferença passa a ser uma<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> diferença ridícula.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Ser ridículo, às
vezes, leva-me a<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">tomar vinho.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">O álcool não é
ridículo: apenas<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> indiferente às minhas tolas e<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">divagadas
razões.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">A desculpa, em
beber vinho pela<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">indiferença, é
uma diferença<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">tola.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Bom mesmo, é
acompanhar aquele<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> prato: um emaranhado de massas<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">tontas, moles,
indiferentes às<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> minhas inúteis e diferentes<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> especulações.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Não diferente —
“Gosto do<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> indiferente olhar do sol sobre o<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> mundo.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> </span></p><div><span style="color: #111111; font-family: Tempus Sans ITC;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #111111; font-family: Tempus Sans ITC;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDv2MMiyhmj-nmHjCTwbLD65KNOvihQdTHcJxS8p_ypht-9fDMbwQdShPkw3aEpLhm4dG2wdw9UXr5BSCyf65aNkBXfni8nnSmq6wGGdg_WWCBhDy7Rd9mZVXabuHVgi4_fzgySFdmGrf6L656K7ZDvfwl4vBoZtr-ZxptufViEyre2yPgb255kHRvfqU/s623/acc8b7a17036fa3fa46724449c57785c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="623" data-original-width="380" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDv2MMiyhmj-nmHjCTwbLD65KNOvihQdTHcJxS8p_ypht-9fDMbwQdShPkw3aEpLhm4dG2wdw9UXr5BSCyf65aNkBXfni8nnSmq6wGGdg_WWCBhDy7Rd9mZVXabuHVgi4_fzgySFdmGrf6L656K7ZDvfwl4vBoZtr-ZxptufViEyre2yPgb255kHRvfqU/s320/acc8b7a17036fa3fa46724449c57785c.jpg" width="195" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 9pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"></span></p><h3 align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">Betonicou</span><i><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">©</span></i></span></span></h3><div><span style="color: #111111;"><i>Arte: </i></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Maxine Noel</span></div><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">Maxine Noel assina sua arte com seu nome Sioux IOYAN MANI,
que se traduz como 'Walk Beyond'.<o:p></o:p></span></p></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p></div>Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-14320772310665258242023-11-23T17:07:00.000-08:002023-11-23T17:07:23.219-08:00Encantamento© Copyright<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpCXQWpJJKkXmSLJ3snqMXEyC2UMbBQWRGjvMIgbgZU5DFirPyp9MxzyBu5Gq1HDqw3An6gGyDk1d0FA9QpS-DU7QaKy71o_dT0nAABP4M-lAOPbPPlS7oVEYQc9VuvKQjoBiNIwveLYoa3Z4lSJMKmiF1cD6CCJuGFtOmJeWG2hSnkWiWg6fUB5Njsd8/s705/2e73007c8620145311f4a19727f4be49.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="705" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpCXQWpJJKkXmSLJ3snqMXEyC2UMbBQWRGjvMIgbgZU5DFirPyp9MxzyBu5Gq1HDqw3An6gGyDk1d0FA9QpS-DU7QaKy71o_dT0nAABP4M-lAOPbPPlS7oVEYQc9VuvKQjoBiNIwveLYoa3Z4lSJMKmiF1cD6CCJuGFtOmJeWG2hSnkWiWg6fUB5Njsd8/s320/2e73007c8620145311f4a19727f4be49.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><h3 style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Eu
me encanto com as coisas sem<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">nome
Coisas que se esgueiram por entre<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> as pedras<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Coisas
que se confundem com a<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> terra Coisas que ninguém nota, mas eu<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">noto<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Eu
me encanto com as coisas sem<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> forma<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Coisas
que se desfazem na água<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> Coisas que se inventam no vento<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Coisas
que ninguém pega, mas eu<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> Pego<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Eu
me encanto com as coisas sem<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">som
Coisas que se calam na noite<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> Coisas que se escutam com o<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">coração
Coisas que ninguém ouve, mas eu<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> ouço<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Eu
me encanto com as ruas sem<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> Rumo<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> Ruas que se perdem no horizonte<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> Ruas que se encontram com o rio<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Ruas
que ninguém anda, mas eu<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> Ando<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Eu
me encanto com as ruas sem cor<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> Ruas que se pintam de cinza<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Ruas
que se tingem de vermelho<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> Ruas que ninguém vê, mas eu vejo<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Eu
me encanto com as ruas sem voz<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> Ruas que se calam no silêncio<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> Ruas que se falam com as árvores<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> Ruas que ninguém escuta, mas eu<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Escuto<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Eu
me encanto com a alma sem<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">limite<br />
</span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Alma
que se espalha pelo infinito<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Alma
que se liga com o divino<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> Alma que ninguém mede, mas eu<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Sinto<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Eu
me encanto com a alma sem<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">idade<br />
</span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Alma
que se renova a cada<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">instante<br />
</span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Alma
que se transcende pela arte<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Alma
que ninguém vê, mas eu vejo<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Eu
me encanto com a alma sem<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">sombra<br />
</span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Alma
que se ilumina pela luz<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Alma
que se reflete nas estrelas<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;">Alma
que ninguém toca, mas eu<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10.0pt;"> toco</span></span></h3><p style="text-align: center;">
</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: Lucida Calligraphy;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: Lucida Calligraphy;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQqlw3skO46-Dia_9lmeg4GWJzbL7my3DXUJNrgO_zGJRmWkSKV-VGDLOD5KLP271up5aE2_uPK-3aQaz6iXA40vE58cOGP-4hA9nssynC-N1sbTHaKr63oJ49WaKnjbE5eK_BlwKARy_umzALbxNUPQA_5ALWsGRuPaFliKDrQHuiHFSfYIUn09mEiRM/s578/0911176fafc0ecf044ca4a4d0a55fa10.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="578" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQqlw3skO46-Dia_9lmeg4GWJzbL7my3DXUJNrgO_zGJRmWkSKV-VGDLOD5KLP271up5aE2_uPK-3aQaz6iXA40vE58cOGP-4hA9nssynC-N1sbTHaKr63oJ49WaKnjbE5eK_BlwKARy_umzALbxNUPQA_5ALWsGRuPaFliKDrQHuiHFSfYIUn09mEiRM/s320/0911176fafc0ecf044ca4a4d0a55fa10.jpg" width="312" /></a></span></div><span style="color: #111111; font-family: Lucida Calligraphy;"><br /></span><p></p><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 3.0pt; margin-left: 18.0pt; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm; margin: 0cm 0cm 3pt 18pt; tab-stops: 45.8pt 91.6pt 137.4pt 183.2pt 229.0pt 274.8pt 320.6pt 366.4pt 412.2pt 458.0pt 503.8pt 549.6pt 595.4pt 641.2pt 687.0pt 732.8pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; font-size: 13.3333px;"></span></p><h3 align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">Betonicou</span><i><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">©</span></i></span></span></h3>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="color: #111111; font-family: "Colonna MT";">Arte: </span></i><span style="background: white; color: #111111; font-family: "Colonna MT"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI";">Graham Franciose</span><span style="font-family: "Colonna MT";"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p></p>Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-90040613997631157082023-11-15T16:50:00.000-08:002023-11-16T03:00:14.326-08:00Entre o Dia e a Noite© Copyright<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: Roboto; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXMwd3fVrbO1K5Xx89qoTYCTeb6JoLuUzIJvALAVL_fRq960xYpTSu4ZqvnocNqOJ0OV2W1IBeOS16-vp0e2781_5h_RMbmz8xmHMmjP5bJAlYW7odoD3QtXI8HtwPjwKUlAqpSLPtr8TsfU5YXj_Ycgj7HwAaC-Sca510mQGux8gLTDXlvEPYZ_8BuQw/s768/2023-11-12T174448.694.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXMwd3fVrbO1K5Xx89qoTYCTeb6JoLuUzIJvALAVL_fRq960xYpTSu4ZqvnocNqOJ0OV2W1IBeOS16-vp0e2781_5h_RMbmz8xmHMmjP5bJAlYW7odoD3QtXI8HtwPjwKUlAqpSLPtr8TsfU5YXj_Ycgj7HwAaC-Sca510mQGux8gLTDXlvEPYZ_8BuQw/s320/2023-11-12T174448.694.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Ninguém
mais entardeceu, quando eu fiquei assim. Noite e dia nos olhos meus, sendo à
tardinha uma poesia, antes sombreada de recheios das coisas dos meus afins.
Sempre ia nos olhos teus colher jasmins. Era guri de um dia. Homem virou gaiola
de sentimentos de andorinhas. Homem voou no dia, e anoiteceu sem entardecer. O
céu sempre foi azul, sem nuances de cinzas. As nuvens sempre acompanharam meus
passos, a esperança sempre abriu os laços, as fendas, para eu sempre dizer que
era dia. A chuva me molhava e eu até sorria. Me divertia com as gotas
assanhadas, elas me banhavam com a ternura de poesia. E sempre era assim:
Esperava o entardecer, mas dormia. A noite me acordava dizendo: Já vai ranhar o
dia!</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Harrington;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Nem
as estrelas, a contemplar. A ver o mar, mesmo em neblinas. Sem ver a luz do
sol. Nem a atmosfera cristalina. A chuva vem chegando deste frio que em nuvem
baixa se evapora. Nem sei se é dia, ou se virou noite. As ondas quebram, e nem
achei o brilho das turmalinas. Acho que a noite chegou, pois o céu nem entrega
se é dia ou noite, ou se é noite e dia. Um eclipse, entre a calma e a
melancolia. A cigarra anuncia em suave harmonia; A chuva vem chegando.
Percebe-se quando se entende a poesia, se é água ou vinho feito sangria. Se é doce,
feito paz na nostalgia. Experimento o sabor da noite que sinto que vem
anunciando. Amanhã quem sabe o mar brinca de azul!</span></p>
<p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKzWmQ-26B_ad34eLnNmf7qJBIN3JqQUyc_4TLkjMgLGfqLz5vfrezCOu708yqyP6LHWDm6FD-qwjZZyLegUdBZzPym0A53ZW1UJ0TQ176Dmvu0ABEnYpP14yio-_nE4Wogpylzdh3KBFleYDZfzORb_MaUIfReubEshl0hKBNmvYBGFVzoxwfOP87xsc/s768/2023-11-12T174540.421.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="763" data-original-width="768" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKzWmQ-26B_ad34eLnNmf7qJBIN3JqQUyc_4TLkjMgLGfqLz5vfrezCOu708yqyP6LHWDm6FD-qwjZZyLegUdBZzPym0A53ZW1UJ0TQ176Dmvu0ABEnYpP14yio-_nE4Wogpylzdh3KBFleYDZfzORb_MaUIfReubEshl0hKBNmvYBGFVzoxwfOP87xsc/s320/2023-11-12T174540.421.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><h3 align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">Betonicou</span><i><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">©</span></i></span></span></h3><div><span><span style="color: #111111;"><i>Imagens e texto protegidos pela lei de direitos autorais.</i></span></span></div>Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-72432600622776405972023-11-06T03:59:00.002-08:002023-11-06T04:19:28.370-08:00Reflexões sobre o mundo e o Eu© Copyright<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzC9ymMko6MFepSVP1eKnhFEUVRGNN07t7YNCjZ8KJpBzSQhSkImOVClwPLOo1oK7oKg9O85C9l19dqF4tUtNPhgCrOVVOvrGcbIjYu8-QSzu7nD0YsND5brYX5K-1NV0MEIKy1q1QL0rqpphI2HZLNS3DuIPgZ_48bneyceCWvqgSVYsDygG6ZdMl-ec/s768/OIG%20(96).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzC9ymMko6MFepSVP1eKnhFEUVRGNN07t7YNCjZ8KJpBzSQhSkImOVClwPLOo1oK7oKg9O85C9l19dqF4tUtNPhgCrOVVOvrGcbIjYu8-QSzu7nD0YsND5brYX5K-1NV0MEIKy1q1QL0rqpphI2HZLNS3DuIPgZ_48bneyceCWvqgSVYsDygG6ZdMl-ec/s320/OIG%20(96).jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Escrevo-me
em livro, um livro vazio de letras, mas cheio de branco, sereno. Escrevo sobre
a vida, a beleza e a dor, os sonhos e as lutas, o ódio e o amor.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Escrevo
sobre a rocha, firmeza dos pés sobre a relva, a dureza que me faz crescer.
Escrevo sobre as águas, o cheiro das chuvas, sobre a terra, as sementes que
planto em mim.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Escrevo
sobre o vento, sopro da mudança, a força e a leveza, a calma e a tempestade.
Escrevo sobre a pedra e o pássaro, contraste, como a espuma e o ferro, o canto
e o grasnar.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Escrevo
sobre a harmonia e o conflito, o equilíbrio e o caos, o silêncio e o grito.
Escrevo, e divago em pensamentos abstratos, como a luz e a sombra, o fogo e o
gelo.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Escrevo-me
em tela, uma tela vazia de cores, mas cheia de luz, reflexos. Escrevo sobre o
mundo, a diversidade, as culturas e as línguas, a paz e a razão.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Escrevo
sobre o sol, fonte da energia dos seres sobre a terra, calor e vida. Escrevo
sobre as estrelas, brilho das noites sobre o céu, os mistérios que observo em
mim.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Escrevo
sobre a lua, ciclo da transformação, a beleza e a magia, inspiração e poesia.
Escrevo sobre a flor e o fruto, contraste, como a vida e a morte, o perfume e o
sabor.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Escrevo
sobre a harmonia e o conflito, o equilíbrio e o caos, o vazio e o eco. Escrevo,
e viajo em imagens concretas, como a água e a pedra, o vento e a chama.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Escrevo,
e me revelo em sentimentos concretos, como a alegria e a tristeza, a coragem e
o medo. Escrevo, e me descubro em emoções abstratas, como a esperança e o
desespero, o rancor e o perdão.</span></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Lucida Calligraphy;"><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3GxMNQbX5qLfCKyskD6NnNNRd25lGggNbCE0JxYRhx8W16HKA5pi1eS2rhR0UO0qNiE0h2yKNfAC-y2849vxedon0StchyphenhyphenJh9KZc6Km_19480cbwSuDJeReMVT7354mWj434UCbAgqZsACaa6VR7SPgemEzJ8p1rrExtG5N4a-aLCMVBN77tk64LQaMA/s768/OIG.PPi.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3GxMNQbX5qLfCKyskD6NnNNRd25lGggNbCE0JxYRhx8W16HKA5pi1eS2rhR0UO0qNiE0h2yKNfAC-y2849vxedon0StchyphenhyphenJh9KZc6Km_19480cbwSuDJeReMVT7354mWj434UCbAgqZsACaa6VR7SPgemEzJ8p1rrExtG5N4a-aLCMVBN77tk64LQaMA/s320/OIG.PPi.jpg" width="320" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 9.0pt; margin: 9pt 0cm 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 9.0pt; margin: 9pt 0cm 0cm; text-align: justify;">
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 9.0pt; margin: 9pt 0cm 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"></span></p><h3 align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">Betonicou</span><i><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">©</span></i></span></span></h3><div><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><i><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif">Imagens e texto protegidos pela lei de direitos autorais.</span><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"> </span></i></span></span></div>Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-33543970432554450342023-10-20T16:03:00.009-07:002023-10-21T10:26:58.016-07:00A Canção da Natureza© Copyright<p style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 3pt; text-align: left;"> <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiad-LFM3hE0RwIpCpWkSIuGQDuIY47DxldxC0wMScIgm5UTnb-rVMVvQNcE5hIJhAVXpLHIisbn41Y4LgA8n1WQ7RNXPAABo1DvFvYTucTMOCOZKkqk4gq4kAFh2EwmuANEDC4t756-f7PBLRIsvPH1t7XR7x-5GB450Yi5wCKZ5M1OK0gO590dGo9e8w/s1128/1ad5c1a642e148dc14ba832c7d0f6ab8%20(1).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1128" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiad-LFM3hE0RwIpCpWkSIuGQDuIY47DxldxC0wMScIgm5UTnb-rVMVvQNcE5hIJhAVXpLHIisbn41Y4LgA8n1WQ7RNXPAABo1DvFvYTucTMOCOZKkqk4gq4kAFh2EwmuANEDC4t756-f7PBLRIsvPH1t7XR7x-5GB450Yi5wCKZ5M1OK0gO590dGo9e8w/s320/1ad5c1a642e148dc14ba832c7d0f6ab8%20(1).jpg" width="160" /></a></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Passarinhos piam
hinos delicados,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">E a alma sonha
passarinhos entoados.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Água entorna
gotas desapegadas,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Em enxurradas
levam e lavam, do que de tempestades sobejam.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Nuvens choram lágrimas
de prata,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Em rios correm,
em oceanos se desatam.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">O vento sussurra
aromas antigos,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Em folhas
dançam, em florestas abrigam.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">O sol derrama
raios dourados,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Em campos
brilham, em montanhas são abraçados.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">A lua espalha sonhos
prateados,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Em noites
nascem, em corações são escuros.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Assim, a natureza
canta sua canção,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Em cada
criatura, em cada estação.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">E a alma sente,
sente sem razão,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Na melodia da vida,
na doce ilusão.</span></p><p>
</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcCgrfnC9ddb1G1U3PJsh3AMxQ8BHsnmIKGoTyp4Y9sygDoSgRaUWLWUsBnZLgeHg2QFVLFWuhxn7pziwwCgCY5A78YgbVP_24ytKilYb2h7WlRH64z4TolmxAuBOQFRvVYidZv9OEjoZLvWKYJdWUc1cbrajMQxHk-uoMxBDdAlIdyNgJW-LFpa5qD38/s799/5bc7f8d07149830fbffd329bb8fa299e.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="799" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcCgrfnC9ddb1G1U3PJsh3AMxQ8BHsnmIKGoTyp4Y9sygDoSgRaUWLWUsBnZLgeHg2QFVLFWuhxn7pziwwCgCY5A78YgbVP_24ytKilYb2h7WlRH64z4TolmxAuBOQFRvVYidZv9OEjoZLvWKYJdWUc1cbrajMQxHk-uoMxBDdAlIdyNgJW-LFpa5qD38/s320/5bc7f8d07149830fbffd329bb8fa299e.jpg" width="226" /></a></div><p></p><h3 align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">Betonicou</span><i><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">©</span></i></span></span></h3><div><span style="color: #111111;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>Arte: </i></span></span><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Oxygen-Sans, "Apple Color Emoji", "Segoe UI Emoji", "Segoe UI Symbol", Ubuntu, Cantarell, "Fira Sans", "Droid Sans", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, "ヒラギノ角ゴ Pro W3", メイリオ, Meiryo, "MS Pゴシック", Arial, sans-serif" style="color: #111111; font-size: 16px;">Sue Davis</span></div><h1 style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #757575; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 11px; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></h1>
Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-67005527845240226922023-10-07T18:06:00.002-07:002023-10-21T10:46:53.218-07:00Transição© Copyright<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHjJC3OH2bkJTieriiVZ76o3JQZkzeZ1E_CZK35wmfrvUaznu_zEXOaWcojO22e1h7wY_prlonA5yM-B3ZU50-yF-SUMW-WtdlCKporwEayGxvnKGCnYodzzQzMj3zJVvvQcWOeOOkb-JyLVyVjOH_lToD4KEIm5ivfY1GpQmlUZT4o1T3Fukooa1WL_8/s640/8904e09d5d67f1eec9a414646e5016cc.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="427" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHjJC3OH2bkJTieriiVZ76o3JQZkzeZ1E_CZK35wmfrvUaznu_zEXOaWcojO22e1h7wY_prlonA5yM-B3ZU50-yF-SUMW-WtdlCKporwEayGxvnKGCnYodzzQzMj3zJVvvQcWOeOOkb-JyLVyVjOH_lToD4KEIm5ivfY1GpQmlUZT4o1T3Fukooa1WL_8/s320/8904e09d5d67f1eec9a414646e5016cc.jpg" width="214" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">A porta é uma
passagem: entre o dentro e o fora, entre o lar e o mundo,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Entre o sonho e
a hora.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">A porta é uma
escolha: entre o abrir e o fechar, entre o ir e o ficar, entre<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">O falar e o
calar.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">A porta é uma metáfora:
entre o ser e o parecer, entre o saber e o crer,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Entre o viver e
o morrer.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">A porta é uma
história: de parafusos e arruelas, de ruas e calçadas, de<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> janelas e acenos, de estradas e moradas.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">A porta é uma
poesia: de rimas e versos, de imagens e sons, de sentimentos<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">E pensamentos,
de palavras e silêncios.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">A porta é uma
esperança: entre o possível e o real, entre o desejo e o real,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Entre o futuro e
o atual.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">A porta é uma
memória: entre o passado e o presente, entre o lembrar e<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">o esquecer,
entre o guardar e o perder.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">A porta é uma
arte: entre o belo e o feio, entre o claro e o escuro, entre o<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Simples e o
complexo.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">A porta é uma
surpresa: entre o conhecido e o desconhecido, entre o<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC";">Esperado e o
inesperado, entre o medo e o encanto.</span></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 9.0pt; margin: 9pt 0cm 0cm; text-align: justify;">
</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 9.0pt; margin: 9pt 0cm 0cm;">
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOW3meocJvqsKNDyyP7yJloyVJnEBsgTyN2n5j3sS_M9EtUJcLOp0pqVT4erq1NVzVoi_eqbIqTsr3J8Kdm9S4yBqhaxhLZpPmy94O7JaDrw9crvFF7daGnlXRupMkGwHEPx26HkKe7HOMHDZvGCIi8mwalbLmQuhL41njmtqyv6dIgI6UcGc2M4XmpA4/s500/e816e34e48e36c953a3a9ff7d11b1a68%20(1).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="332" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOW3meocJvqsKNDyyP7yJloyVJnEBsgTyN2n5j3sS_M9EtUJcLOp0pqVT4erq1NVzVoi_eqbIqTsr3J8Kdm9S4yBqhaxhLZpPmy94O7JaDrw9crvFF7daGnlXRupMkGwHEPx26HkKe7HOMHDZvGCIi8mwalbLmQuhL41njmtqyv6dIgI6UcGc2M4XmpA4/s320/e816e34e48e36c953a3a9ff7d11b1a68%20(1).jpg" width="212" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 9.0pt; margin: 9pt 0cm 0cm;"><span style="color: #111111; font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI";"></span></p><h3 align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">Betonicou</span><i><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">©</span></i></span></span></h3><div><span><span style="color: #111111;"><i><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: x-small;">Resolvi dar uma formatação mais adequada e elegante aos meus textos. Mas, mantendo a essência. </span></i></span></span></div>Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-38000165791032409842023-09-25T17:57:00.000-07:002023-09-25T17:57:01.335-07:00Impressões© Copyright<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCKOESzeWR-9M0kGVp6z4lo2vgC3PkIRoxBPhqH_wazBlrXL222xQCXw3Gp8LK5x9obr7ctyO1gBqEgx_LUcq9EM0-ZLfq8MoXPdsk8sUDR-Fd5GHZXs2EHt_yM9Wt-rij9STmmypVEpKAO4xKlnwkKBPjNqfOcDtVnhQ9RMTwYrjP45X2FMDh25Z7BYg/s845/05c11e1dec2920cb5dc55b193b0e2fcb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="845" data-original-width="544" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCKOESzeWR-9M0kGVp6z4lo2vgC3PkIRoxBPhqH_wazBlrXL222xQCXw3Gp8LK5x9obr7ctyO1gBqEgx_LUcq9EM0-ZLfq8MoXPdsk8sUDR-Fd5GHZXs2EHt_yM9Wt-rij9STmmypVEpKAO4xKlnwkKBPjNqfOcDtVnhQ9RMTwYrjP45X2FMDh25Z7BYg/s320/05c11e1dec2920cb5dc55b193b0e2fcb.jpg" width="206" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 9pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">Ai, impress</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">õ</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">es de leveza
de pluma!<br />
Cristalino como bater de sino.<br />
Ora</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">çã</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">o que invade
o templo.<br />
uma prece ao destino.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 9pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">Vontade de
chegar </span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">à</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">s nuvens e<br />
Tatear o firmamento.<br />
</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">Á</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">guas di</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">á</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">fanas de
riacho.<br />
Vento que ro</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">ç</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">a nas copas.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 9pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">Asas que
brincam nos ares.<br />
Fases que todos os lugares<br />
S</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">ã</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">o lares.<br />
Batidas que meu peito gosta.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 9pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">Nos versos
que d</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">ã</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">o alento.<br />
Apenas mal de faz de conta.<br />
Nas fantasias e bons momentos.<br />
Nos abra</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">ç</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">os que o
peito enrosca.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 9pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">Numa fria
pedra descansar e<br />
Acordar no beijo que a gente gosta.<br />
Simplicidades ou complexidades?<br />
Coer</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">ê</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">ncias ou
incoer</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">ê</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">ncias<br />
Deste tempo?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 9pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">L</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">í</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">quido de
vinho pisado, a<br />
Manter-me embriagado, debaixo<br />
De delicado sereno.<br />
Quero acordar das ilus</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">õ</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">es de um<br />
Doce veneno.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 9pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">Beijar o
beijo que beija<br />
Na imunidade do amor.<br />
Sentir o calor que aquece<br />
Na intimidade do ardor.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 9pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">Voar nas
asas da paix</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">ã</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">o<br />
Na liberdade do querer.<br />
Mergulhar nas </span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">á</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">guas da emo</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">çã</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">o<br />
Na profundidade do viver.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 9pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">Escrever os
versos da vida<br />
Na simplicidade da arte.<br />
Ler as p</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">á</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">ginas da
lida<br />
Na complexidade da parte.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 9pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">Ser feliz na
leveza da pluma<br />
Na cristalinidade do sino.<br />
Ser s</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">á</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">bio na ora</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">çã</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">o do templo<br />
Na inoc</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">ê</span><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">ncia do
menino.</span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 9pt; text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj22rrHGV8DhdxKLs1p8MFG0YpQ9aRRIq5wCQSrzJcKBiqvZfCBi5unxNB65O_qW03LhLE9-929XX85kdt50YglQ8PBuJ06i4uGfUsANYNeTPtVEgzuFDT1Ty6BYUWbnv8cs3SKvWXs3oQxCsgJDWJOHgIx9osVmoGexMpRQNAxUk_1olwG4FlvH4I2kgg/s2299/download.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2299" data-original-width="1280" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj22rrHGV8DhdxKLs1p8MFG0YpQ9aRRIq5wCQSrzJcKBiqvZfCBi5unxNB65O_qW03LhLE9-929XX85kdt50YglQ8PBuJ06i4uGfUsANYNeTPtVEgzuFDT1Ty6BYUWbnv8cs3SKvWXs3oQxCsgJDWJOHgIx9osVmoGexMpRQNAxUk_1olwG4FlvH4I2kgg/s320/download.jpeg" width="178" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"><br /></span><p></p><h3 align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">Betonicou</span><i><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">©</span></i></span></span></h3><div><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><i><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">Arte: Artista JAmsam</span></i></span></span></div><div><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><i><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></i></span></span></div><div><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><i><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif">Responderei caso for preciso.</span></i></span></span></div>Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-57328698946940811092023-09-11T17:42:00.012-07:002023-11-13T18:21:12.153-08:00Ondas imaginativas© Copyright<p></p><p style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC-dHFvocIcklOrcIQ8oT7squw3YskutWAwxEOfoBh7zvZVbLwqs0vo8WD0HuDb1KgYYRDyIb0MHL_pspVe9ep0DUdvQcFfyUL6GzNGl3uANQb6vhRFcojdnscrMOxNnFgpiZIyey6g9N-YiKpRvkBhttl32xIw7eBzGigVWlDQrwT89EKkSKz2GulaEw/s320/34b0be4e030cc045b23c2e952a87d9a6.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="228" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC-dHFvocIcklOrcIQ8oT7squw3YskutWAwxEOfoBh7zvZVbLwqs0vo8WD0HuDb1KgYYRDyIb0MHL_pspVe9ep0DUdvQcFfyUL6GzNGl3uANQb6vhRFcojdnscrMOxNnFgpiZIyey6g9N-YiKpRvkBhttl32xIw7eBzGigVWlDQrwT89EKkSKz2GulaEw/s1600/34b0be4e030cc045b23c2e952a87d9a6.jpg" width="228" /><br /></a></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;">Refaço-me em caminhos pisando, pisando em passos
contidos. Trilho a terra,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;">esperançoso, por veredas floridas. O que faço, poucos
notam, quando é luz<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;">refletida. No horizonte desponta a vida: um sol radiante,
norte dos meus<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;">Anseios.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;">Caminho sobre o chão, sobre nuvens, minhas trilhas
imaginativas. Sob o céu,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;">que me acena, em formas fugidias. Não me aflito, quando
vejo o que me<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;">envolve. Tenho asas, guardadas, em medos que me tolhem.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;">O suor é meu rosto diluído de ser. Minha prece é a
lida, é trabalho por<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;">fazer. Há lençóis, embrulhadores de sois, onde me
abrigo. Um lençol<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;">noturno, onde a lua se desnuda.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;">Aterrizado do céu, vou em passos ligeiros, estendidos.
É a pressa para o<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;">infinito, uma corrida para as alturas. É o homem
apressado, ante a criança<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;">que parou, um dia. É a nave de pernas ágeis, de pés
desenfreados, para a<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;">a vida que quer ver-se redimida.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;">Não me leve a mal, não são passos fugitivos. Uma pressa
incontida, dá até<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;">dó de se ver. O ar não é estrada para asas recolhidas.
As nuvens acenam,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;">em cenas cridas, figuras fingidas. É a esperança que o
vento faz e refaz.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;">Juízo, aos de baixo, sob as pisadas, em cenas gasosas,
que são até<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;">divertidas. Penso assim: subo à vida, em trilhas
íngremes, apontadas para<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;">o norte. Nem me assombro com a morte, quando sinto que
é mar, rumo a<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;">um porto que me aporte.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;">Uma prece escolhida para o jeito de ser. Nesta estrada
estendida é: sem<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12.0pt;"> parar, sem
parar, em frente, em frente. Sempre resiliente. É a vida.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;">
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
</p><h3 style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Nueva Std",sans-serif" style="color: #111111; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI";">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Colonna MT"; font-size: 14pt; text-align: justify;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCKBVrSjv7v3ylWqxtgB54n5Cg30zUo1N1IJV01jVGB1lelnuGwazZ-fUMF-TqE6e5d_z5uKCocfBV6W8JuekYHy68XHXu89z94w_mVN5SDKUD-ravi1ArxewUHgFfnoJgvI00x4RKNdCo5LkwhFldzFhRZyZ89CeaSyuE82K6NNVY6k_e0a1kXXSwzUQ/s846/03d72feb9876fa831a4b94f72db9a920.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="846" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCKBVrSjv7v3ylWqxtgB54n5Cg30zUo1N1IJV01jVGB1lelnuGwazZ-fUMF-TqE6e5d_z5uKCocfBV6W8JuekYHy68XHXu89z94w_mVN5SDKUD-ravi1ArxewUHgFfnoJgvI00x4RKNdCo5LkwhFldzFhRZyZ89CeaSyuE82K6NNVY6k_e0a1kXXSwzUQ/s320/03d72feb9876fa831a4b94f72db9a920.jpg" width="213" /></a></div></span></span></h3><h3 style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Nueva Std",sans-serif" style="color: black; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></h3>
<h3 align="center" style="text-align: center;"><p align="center" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;">Betonicou</span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 14pt;">©</span></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p></h3><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Harrington;">De volta após algumas ondas de mar...</span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-74477539270096352212023-05-02T16:31:00.010-07:002023-11-14T03:09:29.992-08:00Jardins de pedras © Copyright<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4owqFURJJhbdU3FZOGQn7MXdmaA4Lxi2ggMEbhRilFlIy8n8IcJdFFLvpUz93mXSYyqNjqDkbYdQqBKMGvUD002E9XYvxn5LTp7BXu1lRLnRf-44If-H59PzqvDZ3dp1YmJAfhlJ8dosmdUDu7neoQkUUI36VQL8FnHxHFbarWzCbsQTNZZh6jytR/s688/7bd5fb1ee49fb105b47bf11dd063860b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="688" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4owqFURJJhbdU3FZOGQn7MXdmaA4Lxi2ggMEbhRilFlIy8n8IcJdFFLvpUz93mXSYyqNjqDkbYdQqBKMGvUD002E9XYvxn5LTp7BXu1lRLnRf-44If-H59PzqvDZ3dp1YmJAfhlJ8dosmdUDu7neoQkUUI36VQL8FnHxHFbarWzCbsQTNZZh6jytR/s320/7bd5fb1ee49fb105b47bf11dd063860b.jpg" width="223" /></a></div><br /><p></p><h3 style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"></h3><h3 style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Colonna MT"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Era uma árvore com sombras frescas, gerando sombras
sob sua copa frondosa. Filha da natureza, erguia-se como uma bandeira verde
sobre a montanha fria de mármore. De frutos pendentes e orvalhados, reinava na
serra com a majestade de uma rainha.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Colonna MT"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Colonna MT"; font-size: 14.0pt;">A deusa da montanha erguia-se em tronco de carvalho.
Meu corpo descansava, debruçado no quadro vazio de madeira. Porém, meus olhos
já não viam o motivo da minha saudade. Lá na serra, havia um "ser" de
madeira. Eu, seu órfão, sentia-me vazio na minha maturidade.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Colonna MT"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Colonna MT"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Sou órfão das minhas lindas lembranças. Sou órfão de
quem habitava a altitude da montanha, de quem era o motivo das minhas
constantes contemplações. Sou órfão de tudo que a criança via. Sou filho das
minhas recordações.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Colonna MT"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Colonna MT"; font-size: 14.0pt;">A serra era o meu quadro, o enfeite da minha
inocência. A árvore erguia-se sobre a pedra fria, suprindo de beleza a
descoberta frígida, embrulhada em lençóis de carência. A minha janela
emoldurava o quadro da serra, num abraço delicado e terno.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Colonna MT"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Colonna MT"; font-size: 14.0pt;">O inocente olhar imaginava o para sempre, que nem
sempre é eterno. Eu me lembro das ruas singelas, da nudez do chão de barro
vermelho. Eu me lembro de todas as flores que cobriam a serra. Cobriam-na por
inteiro.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Colonna MT"; font-size: 14.0pt;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Colonna MT"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Lá na serra, habitava a nobreza, a majestade com
corpo de árvore. Hoje, lá na serra, há a insana pobreza dos edifícios sem vida,
lápides da árvore, sobre a frieza mórbida do mármore.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;">
</p></h3><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 12pt;"></span></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7LJLEZMe3m03bTTRkrvvmyr1SE10cs-sV9q8jZLcrkjPrAaqRM53DKWC-T1MfpA69FFKHaJLG-3oXZCP1dR8NDhMN946AdgYQxtLGB79yYaRcnL_oEDe5C484wAoW2EyBCgIa4FyS_JfYrzNs_le_8cSDPl9eqZxj-3uHQ5kCzUW4BxxYp3KacwuW/s320/arvore-da-vida-ii.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="284" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7LJLEZMe3m03bTTRkrvvmyr1SE10cs-sV9q8jZLcrkjPrAaqRM53DKWC-T1MfpA69FFKHaJLG-3oXZCP1dR8NDhMN946AdgYQxtLGB79yYaRcnL_oEDe5C484wAoW2EyBCgIa4FyS_JfYrzNs_le_8cSDPl9eqZxj-3uHQ5kCzUW4BxxYp3KacwuW/s1600/arvore-da-vida-ii.jpg" width="284" /></a></i></div><i><br /></i><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p><h3 align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">Betonicou</span><i><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">©</span></i></span></span></h3><h3 style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> Responderei caso for preciso. </span></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lucida Calligraphy; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-weight: 400;">Segundo volume, da trilogia Moheki, a caminho!</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lucida Calligraphy; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-weight: 400;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Lucida Calligraphy; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-weight: 400;">Sigam-me no Instagram! @betonicou</span></span></p></h3>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-15770093632932621222023-03-16T17:35:00.002-07:002023-11-13T15:12:26.652-08:00Coisas minhas© Copyright<p> </p><p align="center" style="background: rgb(247, 248, 249); margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinQIyQJo9mus1EcCDG0Sp9Wqr2Z4J-Jt44ln2wjobUkN6y_kNJlmVqjeMmnJQvFZ-jyM-qBGQasx_f2CAhjlnkUi6OomonZvkhb_Dm091sEtvheszAcBXjsamzj_DFU_wJ02Gnyax4L6jhCqzQT1FmVVKfwYhBmsREv1yjVZOPlkgho8iqgZB-QzHA/s570/ece93f1bd6a38adea1c30e69f5b4a0b2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="570" data-original-width="388" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinQIyQJo9mus1EcCDG0Sp9Wqr2Z4J-Jt44ln2wjobUkN6y_kNJlmVqjeMmnJQvFZ-jyM-qBGQasx_f2CAhjlnkUi6OomonZvkhb_Dm091sEtvheszAcBXjsamzj_DFU_wJ02Gnyax4L6jhCqzQT1FmVVKfwYhBmsREv1yjVZOPlkgho8iqgZB-QzHA/s320/ece93f1bd6a38adea1c30e69f5b4a0b2.jpg" width="218" /></a></div><h3 style="background: rgb(247, 248, 249); margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><br /><p><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Aprendi a não criar<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Expectativas.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Deixo o rio fluir,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Navego,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Para onde a margem<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Se ajusta melhor,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Com mais firmeza,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Aos meus passos.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Nasci de sementes<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Criativas.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Sou um espírito
viajante<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Com saudades de casa.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Fui feito de barro<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">E soprado pelo vento.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">O vento trouxe para<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Dentro de mim
"coisas".<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">São coisas que
ilustram<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">O papel com elementos<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Leves e imaginários.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Uma intenção de<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Amolecer sonhos<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Endurecidos.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> </span></span></p><p>
</p>
</h3><span style="background: rgb(247, 248, 249); color: #11314c; font-family: Jokerman; letter-spacing: -1pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p align="center" style="background: rgb(247, 248, 249); margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span style="background: rgb(247, 248, 249); color: #11314c; font-family: Jokerman; letter-spacing: -1pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background: rgb(247, 248, 249); color: #11314c; font-family: Jokerman; letter-spacing: -1pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1hHqgwbV5zSrGE18dq3939uEpf5SPni7UvFYqW4Ios5ez0PfcMM8572mcIpz5HCJhphio2NEgjc9BAEdNcaqIkFMwdhLx0d9AOeqQEkCVgMTz9QrmBGqeTkOy0uu3Z9s7Hd_5h4dg8eDHpEOfn1kE-N_dje6WSu4aKa_m4Z9NFwLYIAlGw8xXb9zJ/s844/4a663412c51f202f970a689d032cf2ea.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="844" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1hHqgwbV5zSrGE18dq3939uEpf5SPni7UvFYqW4Ios5ez0PfcMM8572mcIpz5HCJhphio2NEgjc9BAEdNcaqIkFMwdhLx0d9AOeqQEkCVgMTz9QrmBGqeTkOy0uu3Z9s7Hd_5h4dg8eDHpEOfn1kE-N_dje6WSu4aKa_m4Z9NFwLYIAlGw8xXb9zJ/s320/4a663412c51f202f970a689d032cf2ea.jpg" width="214" /></a></span></div><span style="background: rgb(247, 248, 249); color: #11314c; font-family: Jokerman; letter-spacing: -1pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><p></p>
<h3 align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background: rgb(247, 248, 249); color: #11314c; font-family: Jokerman; letter-spacing: -1pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Betonicou</span><b><i><span style="font-family: Jokerman; font-size: 14pt; font-variant: normal; letter-spacing: 0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">©</span></i></b></h3><div><span style="font-family: Jokerman; font-size: xx-small;"><i>Responderei se for preciso.</i></span></div>Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-8410586377535647702023-03-01T06:15:00.004-08:002023-11-13T17:32:16.900-08:00Dementes© Copyright<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj33Tp2tFO_6nvUB4ZNd-qnrPLpqZCzUlW0l9WeczXGbSbe2eLOJrX7mpR9H_4_Hmr2m5BHI-RX7PQ0jD_z0R3GZiK9E85eixJT1AAbiLoHOX-vzESqZ36obFivedGiQRqgh9utdv664O2jKQdV1XlaTHxPeGKVMWqCYF47IWyVfdHY4FffbyaGugSL/s888/574e7b3c8a5b13567880247618069957.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="888" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj33Tp2tFO_6nvUB4ZNd-qnrPLpqZCzUlW0l9WeczXGbSbe2eLOJrX7mpR9H_4_Hmr2m5BHI-RX7PQ0jD_z0R3GZiK9E85eixJT1AAbiLoHOX-vzESqZ36obFivedGiQRqgh9utdv664O2jKQdV1XlaTHxPeGKVMWqCYF47IWyVfdHY4FffbyaGugSL/s320/574e7b3c8a5b13567880247618069957.jpg" width="203" /></a></div><p></p><p style="margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><a name="_Hlk128552628"></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Tempus Sans ITC"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Debaixo do sol e distante da lua divago
acordado, sonhando, de rua em rua. Distante de tudo, nos bailes dos bares
minguantes, andando lado a lado, com ilusões, sempre constantes. Longe de
tudo, neste vazio infinito, onde lábios vorazes gritam ecos de delírios
restritos. Prosas, entre pessoas incertas, breves versos céticos, entre
excêntricos estéticos. Vivendo acordado nos sonhos de alerta. Desmontando
palcos destes ensaios de sonhadores itinerantes. É a vida, que acordada,
vivencia as cenas vigentes. Mesmo assim, cambaleia, diante de tantos arcaicos;
seres pendentes. Diante da mordaça de laços toscos, afrouxados, soltam-se em
gemidos, em brados, os navegantes afogados. Andando pelas ruas, por entre
sonhos de utopia, em meio a delírios desvairados. Neste ar de quimeras, onde a
mente vazia alucina, imersa, entorpecida em perfumes almiscarados. Mesmo
assim, vivendo essa vida de loucuras alucinadas, vagueiam nossos versos,
diante de todas as cenas transloucadas. Divagando acordado, delirando sonhos de
rua. Dissertando falas com as mariposas desbotadas: as amantes sacerdotisas da
lua. Nos devaneios tolos de alucinações escondidas, dançam manipuladas, em
situações contravertidas, as bonecas dançarinas vendidas. Longe de casa,
em todos os dementes contidos, vagam as mentes solitárias, em mórbidos sonhos
escondidos. Ainda nos assombram os fantasmas de todos os sonhos. Sejam
eles: comprados, roubados, ou ilusórios ecos envaidecidos.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: black; font-family: Harrington;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVIbXqxX7H5KNE3dpBFlB6FPZHEXuSYBAwbynrWhMlyAohtqjq9UQVGfn-51Ac-eky0eP3xns98hTqeJct7WJPhpzWMa9iJWH0TunH8MrLRyMFRexDdnctGmU7Ipls2u7UBveZFa6NOWxxJIvgtIBXHTVZorJ2e_XmGGqwEsy25KNY6fMkZmt5Gaq5/s752/40447a08e4b7658bb3963a66d61193fc.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="752" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVIbXqxX7H5KNE3dpBFlB6FPZHEXuSYBAwbynrWhMlyAohtqjq9UQVGfn-51Ac-eky0eP3xns98hTqeJct7WJPhpzWMa9iJWH0TunH8MrLRyMFRexDdnctGmU7Ipls2u7UBveZFa6NOWxxJIvgtIBXHTVZorJ2e_XmGGqwEsy25KNY6fMkZmt5Gaq5/s320/40447a08e4b7658bb3963a66d61193fc.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></i></div><i><span style="color: black; font-family: Harrington;"><br /></span></i><p></p><h3 style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 14pt;"><span style="color: #7f6000;">Betonicou</span></span></i><span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Giddyup Std;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>©´</i></span></span></h3><div><span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Giddyup Std;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><i>Arte: Oleg Zhivetin-Eugene Ivanove</i></span></span></div>Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-67740476943008654912023-01-25T07:25:00.007-08:002023-10-03T11:37:14.001-07:00Preto no branco© Copyrigh<div style="text-align: center;"><h3><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></h3><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf8YIdCWexBmBngHF1dOXK16ZqB2O8cnW7GqhWQ-SjiGkZc8BlBIq8pbbHsEGcRj6U6AwvhPZ9yWcRMJ92eynvQYh9yaKkVuYe0dfh4Yp1BL6dBbxnymPSt4rMNK6btHYMYRG7HjKsyZNhwRsP0i6Y8J1y1YNoJMV9MmdzsNxbxVp_1hE2sPM946X2/s700/4cc6eff7d23889b9f807ac96b65540ff.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="436" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf8YIdCWexBmBngHF1dOXK16ZqB2O8cnW7GqhWQ-SjiGkZc8BlBIq8pbbHsEGcRj6U6AwvhPZ9yWcRMJ92eynvQYh9yaKkVuYe0dfh4Yp1BL6dBbxnymPSt4rMNK6btHYMYRG7HjKsyZNhwRsP0i6Y8J1y1YNoJMV9MmdzsNxbxVp_1hE2sPM946X2/s320/4cc6eff7d23889b9f807ac96b65540ff.jpg" width="199" /></a></div><h3></h3><h3><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">Um
ponto negro, no espaço,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">antes
vazio, vê-se, ali,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">aguçando
um tanto.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">O
branco, com um ponto no<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">centro,
um encanto!<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">Com
imponência, atirou-se<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">no
branco, o ponto preto.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">No
espaço, dantes infinito,</span><br /></span><i><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">branco.<br /></span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;"> <br /></span></i><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">Um
toque noturno de cor.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">Na
folha de papel,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">comum
ou machê, ali, um</span><br /></span><i><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">ponto.<br /></span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;"> <br /></span></i><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">Procura
companheiras,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;"> fragmentadas cores irmãs.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">Apenas,
vê-se solitário,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">um
ponto escuro nas manhãs.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">No
alvo, fez-se destacado,</span><br /></span><i><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">preto.<br /></span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;"> <br /></span></i><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">Algodão,
papel...<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">Está
lá, no centro, ou<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">qualquer
canto.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">Uma
visão instigante<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">quando
se olha no branco:<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">vê-se,
o ponto, seduzindo;</span><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;"> <i>Epicentro</i>.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;"> <br /></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">Um
reino, ali, todo soberano,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">sem
ter ao redor outra cor.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">Ponto
solitário, sem ter com<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">quem
dividir, reina todo.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">O
ponto, na folha de papel<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">ou,
qualquer outro branco.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">Um
ponto, escuro e<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> </span>franco,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">no<br />
</span><i><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;">branco.</span></i></h3>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Giddyup Std"; font-size: 16pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ayXQGalTyVbRbvL_OPKzB5Lo8ObCbB2XzGBeXxPTOnICXkttR71Ht1VMdt65MKdCuk9-EVNB_BQ0CyR6o_IdKhANFDALgX1awvkx7SdI219dzmO1STtzTkMSZdp1mBRMydT31hO1H9m1u3wnHqdJzYar3IZGMEPAXSU30P5SRB6rx4oln_nM1_lp/s699/My%20project-1%20(16).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="699" data-original-width="496" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ayXQGalTyVbRbvL_OPKzB5Lo8ObCbB2XzGBeXxPTOnICXkttR71Ht1VMdt65MKdCuk9-EVNB_BQ0CyR6o_IdKhANFDALgX1awvkx7SdI219dzmO1STtzTkMSZdp1mBRMydT31hO1H9m1u3wnHqdJzYar3IZGMEPAXSU30P5SRB6rx4oln_nM1_lp/s320/My%20project-1%20(16).jpg" width="227" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><span style="font-family: Giddyup Std;"><i><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Giddyup Std;"><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #111111; font-size: 16pt;">“Mesmo na
vastidão do espaço branco, um único ponto preto pode reinar soberano,
destacando-se em sua singularidade e provocando reflexões profundas. A solidão
não diminui sua importância, mas sim, acentua sua presença.”</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><h3 align="center" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">Betonicou</span><i><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">©</span></i></span></span></h3><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #111111; font-size: 16pt;"><br /></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><span style="color: #7f6000;">Obs: </span>Escrevi esse texto há doze anos atrás. Disseram-me que não combinava com meu estilo. Repaginei e resolvi postar. Não sou fiel a estilos e regras. "Sou nato de coisas letradas e mancas."</span></i></p></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Giddyup Std;"><i><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></i></span></div>
Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-44240153285513791012022-12-15T15:47:00.010-08:002023-10-03T11:51:09.985-07:00Concebido© Copyrigh<p> </p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNK3bWFZaowmBNnaBDLtvUUaGixZS5a4yZsMZd7H5R43vXcqAM66flLCSaIuLYWSclLXIShaV1lf-fcQZwFeuvznn0Y0V6soAmydgHALpkvKdwnHYQ6L3LxHnvD196_x-7rhHqRfZGHE24GbCLPZjYPyhq6_dIXrPD8pb1AqalQltYo6ObKBconpZi/s776/b8a22d7ad755c50c8913fdc5ab252da3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="776" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNK3bWFZaowmBNnaBDLtvUUaGixZS5a4yZsMZd7H5R43vXcqAM66flLCSaIuLYWSclLXIShaV1lf-fcQZwFeuvznn0Y0V6soAmydgHALpkvKdwnHYQ6L3LxHnvD196_x-7rhHqRfZGHE24GbCLPZjYPyhq6_dIXrPD8pb1AqalQltYo6ObKBconpZi/s320/b8a22d7ad755c50c8913fdc5ab252da3.jpg" width="233" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Matura MT Script Capitals";"><p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Colonna MT"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Com
Jesus em nossos corações, a vida se transforma em um jardim de singelas
belezas, um encontro fraterno que floresce mesmo em meio a tempestades. O Natal
é a celebração desse presente divino: Deus oferecendo seu Filho como elo de
nossa eterna união com o Pai.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="font-size: var(--cib-type-body1-font-size); font-variation-settings: var(--cib-type-body1-font-variation-settings); font-weight: var(--cib-type-body1-font-weight); line-height: var(--cib-type-body1-line-height); margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 9.0pt; user-select: text; word-break: break-word;"><span style="font-family: "Colonna MT"; font-size: 14.0pt;">O Natal não deveria ser
apenas uma data festiva no final do ano. Deveria ser um encontro diário com o
amor, um sorriso que perdura o ano todo, uma celebração constante a cada
renovação. A alegria não se guarda em caixas de sapatos, assim como não se pode
aprisionar estrelas e lua sem ofuscar o brilho que enobrece a noite.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="font-size: var(--cib-type-body1-font-size); font-variation-settings: var(--cib-type-body1-font-variation-settings); font-weight: var(--cib-type-body1-font-weight); line-height: var(--cib-type-body1-line-height); margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 9.0pt; user-select: text; word-break: break-word;"><span style="font-family: "Colonna MT"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Afinal, o Natal é ter Jesus
no coração. E quando Ele entra, não é para ficar apenas um dia, mas para
iluminar todas as nossas manhãs. Jesus não se resume a uma data, Ele é a
Trindade: Deus Pai, Deus Filho e Deus Espírito Santo.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p style="font-size: var(--cib-type-body1-font-size); font-variation-settings: var(--cib-type-body1-font-variation-settings); font-weight: var(--cib-type-body1-font-weight); line-height: var(--cib-type-body1-line-height); margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 9.0pt; user-select: text; word-break: break-word;"><span style="font-family: "Colonna MT"; font-size: 14.0pt;">Desejo a todos nós a presença
do Deus Trino, que celebra conosco a criação e que nos guarda e nos acolhe como
uma bela canção, fruto de Sua eterna bondade. Feliz Natal! Feliz todos os dias!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<cib-overlay></cib-overlay><cib-turn-counter color-state="green" product="shoreline" serp-slot="none" style="align-items: center; display: flex; flex-direction: row; flex-shrink: 0; gap: 6px; grid-area: 1 / 2 / 2 / 3; margin-inline-start: 12px; margin: 11px 14px; width: max-content;"></cib-turn-counter><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg62BoVxVeYcUo1RtgK-lvhHaeuugSWZaG_CztYGYWSTJz3V06NAsjl0j_sGGNbc5U28cMrtyFwZbZi9lQ72k6NjJz2ckhEKr6ljQaTUMkx_DNwp_N1KcUMnwm01uoLTOTtBP3Kfb9TwdkZ2aVhlZrQ0Bq6OYddynvJ6aUKUc9ir1biZHidHUh05aCs/s1128/566768260d0a169f86020b7c15e871ce%20(1).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1128" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg62BoVxVeYcUo1RtgK-lvhHaeuugSWZaG_CztYGYWSTJz3V06NAsjl0j_sGGNbc5U28cMrtyFwZbZi9lQ72k6NjJz2ckhEKr6ljQaTUMkx_DNwp_N1KcUMnwm01uoLTOTtBP3Kfb9TwdkZ2aVhlZrQ0Bq6OYddynvJ6aUKUc9ir1biZHidHUh05aCs/s320/566768260d0a169f86020b7c15e871ce%20(1).jpg" width="160" /></a></div><br /><h3 align="center" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #111111;"><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">Betonicou</span><i><span face=""Nueva Std", sans-serif" style="font-size: 14pt;">©</span></i></span></span></h3><o:p></o:p></span><p></p><div><span style="font-family: "Matura MT Script Capitals";"><span style="color: #7f6000;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: "Matura MT Script Capitals";"><span style="color: #7f6000;"> Participação da confraternização </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: "Matura MT Script Capitals";"><span style="color: #7f6000;">de natal realizada pela nossa querida , </span></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY1FtN8SpvmPGMjFNQLRSxHiMVh2YzNTJ_jtL0aXXJIPZURsM5z-mrKdlr1VdBJlPoHcZ8whIot27S53ZELZTvKu6igV5z7I5XxK9--zPK_FQ3ZlR_SuHXXUG6us01_Vf5ziLaYSbREF-SAm7anUV3NcvJZNU8PbGLP059hh7Nsvt_mhaPNA_pEbH3/s324/My%20project-1%20(29).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="324" data-original-width="266" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY1FtN8SpvmPGMjFNQLRSxHiMVh2YzNTJ_jtL0aXXJIPZURsM5z-mrKdlr1VdBJlPoHcZ8whIot27S53ZELZTvKu6igV5z7I5XxK9--zPK_FQ3ZlR_SuHXXUG6us01_Vf5ziLaYSbREF-SAm7anUV3NcvJZNU8PbGLP059hh7Nsvt_mhaPNA_pEbH3/s320/My%20project-1%20(29).jpg" width="263" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: "Matura MT Script Capitals";"><span style="color: #7f6000;">Roselia.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></span><br /></span></div>Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-14239782790838671012022-12-09T12:25:00.005-08:002022-12-09T16:34:28.571-08:00Crisálida© Copyrigh<p> </p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnN_V80WJHwZloFEXoVWtEcybI9u1d7z59H-eXXen5k5NBdTVNYxLB09Hb3qFwk4wB6F3W4LGa5nQqFPxVxoyq0ULCdQDF4SPw2Gd_jHjm1g-Y2pzaYocsYlVPTS5YVVcL3FG1_teSKCOkhJxYQmqdEeXDUXNxjEtrmyWaMVZ-R_9LNxJg9E4r6z_A/s728/a7421b2bbe566c08b4191118d383410f.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="728" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnN_V80WJHwZloFEXoVWtEcybI9u1d7z59H-eXXen5k5NBdTVNYxLB09Hb3qFwk4wB6F3W4LGa5nQqFPxVxoyq0ULCdQDF4SPw2Gd_jHjm1g-Y2pzaYocsYlVPTS5YVVcL3FG1_teSKCOkhJxYQmqdEeXDUXNxjEtrmyWaMVZ-R_9LNxJg9E4r6z_A/s320/a7421b2bbe566c08b4191118d383410f.jpg" width="248" /></a></div><h3 style="text-align: center;"><a name="_Hlk121385960"><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;"> </span></a><span style="font-weight: normal;"><a name="_Hlk121385960" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">Vivo
por fios de possibilidades.<br /></span></a><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">Sou planta que descansa num<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">jardim confiável, pelas mãos de<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">um jardineiro não sedentário.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">Cachos de uvas doces desapontam-me<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">se há no meio o azedo que os empobrece.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">Gosto das cores que se completam<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">num quadro que amansa os olhos.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">Carrego em mim o peso destinado<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">às formigas, assim como carrego<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">dentro de mim, ares leves, ambos<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">amontoados num clamor interno,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">feito cantar gritante de cigarras.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">Sofro de vontades mórbidas,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">desfiguradas, sementes em <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">metamorfoses vãs, fora das crisálidas.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">Luto um luto, pois há em mim,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">enterros, a cada momento, de<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">coisas involuídas (evolução de<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">traças para troços evoluídos).<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">Quando poesia:<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">sou orvalho que evapora,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">semente aquosa, a evoluir-se<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">em nuvens prenhas.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">De verso em verso,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">a poesia vai gritando,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">silenciosa.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;">De pingo em pingo me tornando chuva.</span></span></h3><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk121385960;"><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqTNyJ8_naTAf3U8rK6luQbMcYOLHhkpLxmXSNCUB4eRXBF7TIoBrjxxYjc9MxlAiFkMLpfJYMw5FWezFxiz26-fTnSQvmW-kTSrA87WzBwkqS_xbN1NL5-9NEjcTiJU4htGilirb9_fZbc0ofXIW020yv-1_kqHpYxV9cTqm55vxMpjeK7GYMIS1m/s500/9a5b3517cb7e59302e944cfd50316e97%20(1).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="364" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqTNyJ8_naTAf3U8rK6luQbMcYOLHhkpLxmXSNCUB4eRXBF7TIoBrjxxYjc9MxlAiFkMLpfJYMw5FWezFxiz26-fTnSQvmW-kTSrA87WzBwkqS_xbN1NL5-9NEjcTiJU4htGilirb9_fZbc0ofXIW020yv-1_kqHpYxV9cTqm55vxMpjeK7GYMIS1m/s320/9a5b3517cb7e59302e944cfd50316e97%20(1).jpg" width="233" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><h3><span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";"><span style="color: #7f6000; font-size: x-small; font-weight: normal;">Betonicou©</span></span></span></h3><div><span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";"><span style="color: #7f6000; font-size: x-small; font-weight: normal;">Arte-Denis Sarazhin-Costa Dvorezky</span></span></span></div><div><span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";"><span style="color: #7f6000; font-size: x-small; font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";"><span style="font-size: x-small; font-weight: normal;">Responderei se for preciso.</span></span></span></div></div><br /><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<span style="mso-bookmark: _Hlk121385960;"></span>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-77516325341031492332022-11-27T10:52:00.004-08:002023-11-13T15:55:49.811-08:00Imaginante proseador migrante© Copyright<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUXz2wE-39_ecXHn1OP4AHpSaJufpHHem_CUOKlEH-p_6fnS6derIjzjx7YDArRcw3d5iSRQWue-CunZudNiA2Zv7FiwK18MqPgh6Y61ZY7L2j5HFmQ-TiknGDnmbI32l1pLLJXnr58t3tkMvM5PEGfN11EnKlKEPL9BMQeCJ69txdMJlWzvt4-oIk/s830/711ab8ae902e5925f9bc00d43332ef5e.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="830" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUXz2wE-39_ecXHn1OP4AHpSaJufpHHem_CUOKlEH-p_6fnS6derIjzjx7YDArRcw3d5iSRQWue-CunZudNiA2Zv7FiwK18MqPgh6Y61ZY7L2j5HFmQ-TiknGDnmbI32l1pLLJXnr58t3tkMvM5PEGfN11EnKlKEPL9BMQeCJ69txdMJlWzvt4-oIk/s320/711ab8ae902e5925f9bc00d43332ef5e.jpg" width="217" /></a></div><h3 style="text-align: center;">
</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;"></h3><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif" style="background: white;">I<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";">“Agitação”<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;"> <br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Tempestades, tempestades!<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Quero chuvas serenas, feitas<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">de orvalhos para os brotos<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">das sementes, para os frutos<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">das plantações, e jardins de<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">floris serenados.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Chuvas são feitas de canções<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">respingadas, feitas de nuvens<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">genitoras, emprenhadas de<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">ares invernados.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Tempestades são pedras frias<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">e diluídas. São orações rejeitadas,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">que caem pesadas. Asas frágeis de<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">papel escrito, carregado de versos<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">desesperados.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">É gelo que se eleva e cai em<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">choradas águas cadentes, pingos<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">de brotos aquosos, lágrimas de<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">dores vertentes.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Tempestades são choros de<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">destemperos, choro de corvos,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">a cantar chuvas rebeldes e frias.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Assim: tenho gosto pelo cair das<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">folhas abatidas.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Gosto do outono, da poesia<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">vermelha e pousada diante<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">do debruçar pelas janelas.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Das cores murchas e desapegadas,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">desta estação emancipada.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Livre, a despencar-se, solta.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Porém, não distante, de todas<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">as outras cores das telas de<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">aguarelas.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;"> <br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif" style="background: white;">I</span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";"> </span><span face="Verdana, sans-serif" style="background: white;">I<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";">“simplista”<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;"> <br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";">“Sim, sim, sim, sim”,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;"> é eco<br /><o:p></o:p></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">teimoso, sons insistentes, lá<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">dos “dezessete” ... hoje ausentes.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Vozes musicadas, ressonantes<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">nas notas de lembranças.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Para o meu sempre. Na<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">alma, nunca destoantes.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Hoje, sinto falta de mim mesmo,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">dos cânticos singelos e maternos.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Das canções de gorjeios, dos seres<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">que, por entre as folhas das<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">árvores, eu não vi.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Porém, de ouvidos aguçados,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">ouvia atento aos assobiantes,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">às vezes, de um solitário ser<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">voante: silvos, de um<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">transmigrante, em passarinho<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">bem-te-vi.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";"> <br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif" style="background: white;">IV<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";">“O Céu do deserto”<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;"> <br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Em cada ser há plantações não<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">vingadas. Vejo-me espantado,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">a ser espantalho, a espalhar<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">fugitivos pássaros de espigas quase<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">mirradas.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Os ventos são quentes, vindos de<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">um sul, inquisidor, em contrários<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">calafrios.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">O poço que há mim serve de leito,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">também, serve de alento, pois era<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">aos olhos, circular janela para o céu,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">onde mora a esperança quente e as<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">confortáveis e refrescantes brisas<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">das coisas mais singelas.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Desmembrou-se de mim asas tênues,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">pois, eram, rendas de ventos, a<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">elevar-me em sonhos de cenas surreais.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Despencado, cai dos céus. Em terra,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">orei em preces aleijadas, pois eram<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">preces de pás quebradas de moinhos.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Eu era um ser nascido em inerente<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">mundo, nascido em brisa solitária de<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">desertos terrenos, à procura de um
oásis por<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">entre dunas que encerravam olhares,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;"> tão marcantes e, serenos.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;"> <br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;"> <br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif" style="background: white;">V<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";"> “Éden”<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;"> <br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">A desconfiança abraçou a<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">esperança, como herança,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">pelas margaridas que acenavam<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">em braços brancos e, girassóis,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">que prometiam sois cambaleantes,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">à mercê de forças que embalavam<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">suas enterradas vontades.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Pois são os girassóis: lindas<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">prisões de fragmentos quentes<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">de ternura. Serafins, voluntários<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">a uma plantação de dourados<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">acenos de possibilidades.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";">“O que seria dos campos plantados<br /></span></i></span><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";">sem a transmigração de anjos<br /></span></i></span><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";">em sementes?!”<br /></span></i></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;"> <br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif" style="background: white;">VI<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";">“Quimérico”<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;"> <br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Os céus acariciam a terra,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">fazendo eriçar os verdes caules<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">de seus filhos.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Vejo-me descansando em lama,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">feito barro, sendo moldado em<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">jarro para águas diáfanas.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Espero por chuvas de pingos<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">acariciantes, pois é a alma<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">quem os receberá como recipiente<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">de respingos que, dantes,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">acolhia lágrimas em odres....<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Vejo-me passarinho cantante,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">sempre pego, iludido por<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">gaiolas douradas.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";">“Os gaviões sempre constroem prisões<br /></span></i></span><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";">usando seus próprios ossos. “<br /></span></i></span><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";"> <br /></span></i></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif" style="background: white;">VII<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";"> “Conversa de vento”<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;"> <br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Era menino, que no início,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">era “marco”.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Sem enganos: não era nome,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">e sim, um tempo que demarcava<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">o prelúdio entre novas manhãs.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Debrucei-me em arcos.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Esses mesmos arcos que se colorem,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">mesclando água e sol.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Não havia tesouros, pois eram<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">histórias, contadas por<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">imaginações medíocres, feitas<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">de vento misturado com vento.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Doravante, eram ilusórias,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">visões insignificantes às orbitas<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">de minhas Iris. Tesouros?<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">São luzes que se alcançam,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">mesmo que intermitentes,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">como o brilhar tímido, porém,<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">brilhante de ternura dos<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">pirilampos.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">Me pego divagando, olhando<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;">pelas janelas.<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";">“Pelas janelas, o debruçar<br /></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";">inocente e despropositado,<br /></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";">sempre encontra propósito,<br /></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";">ao iniciar divagante,<br /></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";">uma conversa com Deus<br /></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";">sobre a vida.”<br /></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting"; font-weight: normal;"> <br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif" style="background: white;">VIII<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";">“marco”<br /></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";">Numa tarde. Um meio<br /></span></i></span><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";">tempo, feito de sol e lua.</span></i></span></p><div><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";"><br /></span></i></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSUnkTi-Zyq-WGxz9ZpoDxx1LB-cZl49ds8-GmmXEjp2iJr42Vq0tuLrizfI1HZ7owIpDRlpexn5oMasAS4NDHqlH44dIsRZx0HF9PNi8H1gkYwSXsZeM76tCE-iMRY3q7SAjZoCn4VvMrtZQwgPBt7pERbHPu_5iDKWFKrLrwe3_-rI0VIAcR9RAs/s650/eca69e92e92255d114e37be3357e1e9c.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="650" data-original-width="363" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSUnkTi-Zyq-WGxz9ZpoDxx1LB-cZl49ds8-GmmXEjp2iJr42Vq0tuLrizfI1HZ7owIpDRlpexn5oMasAS4NDHqlH44dIsRZx0HF9PNi8H1gkYwSXsZeM76tCE-iMRY3q7SAjZoCn4VvMrtZQwgPBt7pERbHPu_5iDKWFKrLrwe3_-rI0VIAcR9RAs/s320/eca69e92e92255d114e37be3357e1e9c.jpg" width="179" /></a></div></span></div><h3 style="text-align: center;"><span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";"><span style="color: #7f6000; font-size: x-small; font-weight: normal;">Betonicou©</span></span></span></h3><h3 style="text-align: center;"><span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";"><span style="font-size: x-small; font-weight: normal;">Arte-by Marina Terauds</span></span></span></h3><h3 style="text-align: center;"><span><span style="font-family: "Lucida Handwriting";"><span style="font-size: x-small; font-weight: normal;">Responderei se for preciso.</span><br /></span><o:p style="font-size: medium;"> "Imaginante proseador migrante" é um poema que resolvi fragmentar em seis partes. Escrito numa tarde , num certo momento....Boa leitura!</o:p></span></h3>
Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-83463214364294933642022-11-10T15:55:00.001-08:002022-11-10T15:57:15.954-08:00 Borboleta-flor© Copyright<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe1GgLbHHw5KpPWMtdpiLbo84OffZvskdNpAUCfjzKd6dktE9OVc0WotpgQBamwD9peUr8F4vnmzMgJdM59hxR-rztvhmVqZhSGnkCv9rMZFI69AOli_c_iO2CSCfUi-EIf3LZkwGmHvuoJWmn0zEOwLuC7pHl8PAGMqMJy2k75lBs3m5UNqz8JyyZ/s789/b59e45a09e3620e068822d44d9e22a76%20(1).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="789" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe1GgLbHHw5KpPWMtdpiLbo84OffZvskdNpAUCfjzKd6dktE9OVc0WotpgQBamwD9peUr8F4vnmzMgJdM59hxR-rztvhmVqZhSGnkCv9rMZFI69AOli_c_iO2CSCfUi-EIf3LZkwGmHvuoJWmn0zEOwLuC7pHl8PAGMqMJy2k75lBs3m5UNqz8JyyZ/s320/b59e45a09e3620e068822d44d9e22a76%20(1).jpg" width="229" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";">É feita de curvas morenas,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";">Dançante, com face alegrada<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";">Não lívida, corada de cenas.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";">Cantante, com emoção externada.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";">Baila, essa lena, de nome Helena.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";">Em rendas de pétalas bordadas.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";">Tão bom revê-la serena. Tal cena,<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";">de alegrias esbanjadas.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";">Suor, cheiro sem noção.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";">Gosto de abelha na flor.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";">Doce odor de flor açucena,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";"> Dançante ao som da<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";"> avena! Acena, à cena,<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";">ao que lhe traz sensação:<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";">Amor!<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";"> Menina,
feita água jorrada.<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";"> das
chuvas, és <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";"> respingo e frescor.<br /> </span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";">Pequena ou,<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";"> Mulher
Madalena, és<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";">borboleta. <br /></span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";">Quando esvoaça no ar, és<br /></span><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";">Flor!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz5Qo-1O_EYL-_iKU6InF_GkHNlyU2xwoNE0Vb2xkCqYUjnf6qCz_9R9p1KYg-cBsaog8ieeNNtZKX2DaP0ceRmZ4-HHA4hVIck5Yk7mJwp4LVyd3qapheDwUeqHjSRbiUiayPoxozeLtFdoPN13iZoOKAIZvG9z5gwRMXjx3Ch5D0sCwQnOL4HGcD/s556/e5db266acb29851c709e932820261daf.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="556" data-original-width="400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz5Qo-1O_EYL-_iKU6InF_GkHNlyU2xwoNE0Vb2xkCqYUjnf6qCz_9R9p1KYg-cBsaog8ieeNNtZKX2DaP0ceRmZ4-HHA4hVIck5Yk7mJwp4LVyd3qapheDwUeqHjSRbiUiayPoxozeLtFdoPN13iZoOKAIZvG9z5gwRMXjx3Ch5D0sCwQnOL4HGcD/s320/e5db266acb29851c709e932820261daf.jpg" width="230" /></a></div><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Viner Hand ITC";"> <span style="color: #7f6000;">Betonicou<span style="font-size: large;">© </span></span></span></div><p style="text-align: center;">
</p>
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Responderei aos comentários caso for preciso. </p>Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-36857868419608428782022-10-02T18:20:00.004-07:002023-12-11T17:04:45.421-08:00A poesia bordada© Copyright"<p style="text-align: justify;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ0W6M5TALajA0ndZbZgy_YpUJ3q_vydXcM6LltN4BfqNFNjjE3PVdDrDLeV582oME18-E8Rxc2X2Odvehuepm3o1WKStuPdznZaZtU_cW8PLnS6g5EZHysb6cFcSQthbCFVNI2J9KEqosJB6GCEW23aCTa9qVGgg20e_FfAzEMclJT39LbV6WiaoH/s705/3ea0a637057daeec14467dcd567564de.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="705" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ0W6M5TALajA0ndZbZgy_YpUJ3q_vydXcM6LltN4BfqNFNjjE3PVdDrDLeV582oME18-E8Rxc2X2Odvehuepm3o1WKStuPdznZaZtU_cW8PLnS6g5EZHysb6cFcSQthbCFVNI2J9KEqosJB6GCEW23aCTa9qVGgg20e_FfAzEMclJT39LbV6WiaoH/s320/3ea0a637057daeec14467dcd567564de.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Ah, que saudade da
minha terra! Não essa<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> terra onde piso meus passos, mas a terra<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> onde caminho meus sonhos, onde voo meu<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> imaginário de pássaros. Sinto falta dos<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">versos leves, como
palmeiras à margem do<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">frescor dos riachos.
Saudade é minha sina,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">pois sou feito de
barro, modelado em<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">tempos de laços.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Tenho em mim brisas,
filhas de vento forte,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> sopros que moldam rostos. A saudade é<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">uma nau navegante, à
procura de um acaso<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">que a aporte. Seja num
mar de ondas<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> eriçadas ou amenas, ou gotas de chuva a<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> molhar enseadas. Passeio em devaneios,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">pincéis de neurônios a
pensar e pincelar as<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> telas de minhas estradas espirituais e<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> gasosas.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Teimosas são as
passadas pelos canteiros<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> de espelhos e lembranças refletidas. Assim<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> são as causas das flores desfolhadas:<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">pétalas errantes,
passeantes divagantes,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">sisal em linhas de
causas atadas. Ah, que<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> saudade dos ventos, por onde passeavam<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">leves as musas do
parnaso, em cavalos<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> alados, amigos dos ventos que, em<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> delicadezas, recebiam meu peso em versos<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> emplumados.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Ah, onde no mar
navegava meu barquinho,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> que era o rei dos veleiros. Sobre ondas altas,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">turbulências
imaginárias, escalar abismal de<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">desfiladeiros aquosos.
Terra à vista! Gritava<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> eu, em ecos, rebatidos pelos ventos, sob o<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> luar majestoso que se fazia de lâmpada para<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> os inquietantes sonhares: desvarios, quase<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">verdadeiros…<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">A criança diluiu-se em
nevoeiros. Ficou a<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> lembrança impregnante de pensamentos<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> burburinhos ensimesmados. O sonho<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">comum, da inocência
navegante, num barco<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> de papel a vela, levado por ventosos e<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">casuais redemoinhos.
Numa tempestade de<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">gritos infantis,
aventureiros, a desvencilhar<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">de rodopiantes
torvelinhos.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Terra à vista! Gritava
o infortúnio da<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> saudade. Pois, era quente, o grito, que<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> trovejava, tal qual raio na tempestade, com<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> olhares molhados, mesclados às gotas<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">espargidas. Com a
natureza, fusionava-se, à<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">liberdade. Com espada
de cavaco de pau,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> forjado em fornalhas imaginárias. Com a<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> cabeça coberta de velhos jornais, folhas<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">encharcadas de
velharias noticiárias,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> aventurava-se de vez a criança, despedindo-<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">se, viajante às causas
mais incendiárias.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Era gentil e senil, a
saudade, que na praia<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">mansa, de gestos
inquietos se vestiam. Do<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> verso borbulhante de calmaria de mar, do<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> barro de areia branca que os pés se cingiam.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> Aportado das nuvens e águas sonhadoras,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> dispersava-se de vez. Igual a voo desafiante<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">de passarinho, em bruma
volátil, a exalar-se<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> em fumaça, em asas de um pensativo talvez.<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> <br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">Da onda solitária que
lhe era atrelada, sumia-<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;">se, em adeus, acima das
águas, em<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> esvoaçante nauta. Em intrépida, instigante,<br /></span><span style="font-family: Harrington;"> sonhada, e alada poesia bordada.</span></p>
<p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Harrington;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Harrington;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLuoOV1wXIqzPPOpy22d2SuR8Al0HIdIJL2hh7GDLhzAU1wsD7Sm9c41iK9CzVCbEqAzdmHjmuvrwTHw2x-XBCaR8NGpdCJ6eHXNJBQNJ7mJiLVkJB0X6ZtWEG3fDahj2CiwMJIbij7ZV5WOdD_XQwJrh-cPm-ESjgk9SUZ_pnj-3zlPzQrE6QH_Jq/s800/d3addfb3fe93de40713da0924fca96e9.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="518" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLuoOV1wXIqzPPOpy22d2SuR8Al0HIdIJL2hh7GDLhzAU1wsD7Sm9c41iK9CzVCbEqAzdmHjmuvrwTHw2x-XBCaR8NGpdCJ6eHXNJBQNJ7mJiLVkJB0X6ZtWEG3fDahj2CiwMJIbij7ZV5WOdD_XQwJrh-cPm-ESjgk9SUZ_pnj-3zlPzQrE6QH_Jq/s320/d3addfb3fe93de40713da0924fca96e9.jpg" width="207" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Harrington;"><a aria-label="Link para a postagem <span>Morena tupiniquim© Copyright</span>" class="UNTnVe" href="https://bybetonicou.blogspot.com/2022/07/morena-tupiniquim-copyright.html" jslog="28421; track:click" jsname="d2wxvf" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; background-color: white; font-family: Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: 0.4px; line-height: 20px; text-align: left; text-decoration-line: none; text-wrap: nowrap;" target="blank_"><span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent;">©</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-align: left;">Betonicou</span></span></div><span style="font-family: Harrington;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><span style="color: #7f6000;">Arte-<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; text-align: left;"><i><b>Eliza Wheeler-</b></i></span></span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: left; white-space: nowrap;"><span style="color: #7f6000; font-size: x-small;"><i><b>Children's Illustrations</b></i></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-7294937208806817392022-07-22T09:22:00.007-07:002022-11-19T16:46:10.729-08:00Morena tupiniquim© Copyright<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p><p class="Pa9" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: 28pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ufzBGyMwWDobcFjTKGLBen8r0OXBffsa9G8CaDOvPwvnLDJ5W4ipCNu1soaM7U-clMrcKi5kRp4SgiROhAeZ7y-OQkJ8Ojn8qtwHqZiEOdWldd4TJAQGbkYHj7_aTS_qHLhlDEis05tjsOaWvNvyFoyZ_TBydEuBu7dZnark4EF25e1CIs54kEmn/s220/237000793_4535052219838490_5035894515878889212_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="220" data-original-width="150" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ufzBGyMwWDobcFjTKGLBen8r0OXBffsa9G8CaDOvPwvnLDJ5W4ipCNu1soaM7U-clMrcKi5kRp4SgiROhAeZ7y-OQkJ8Ojn8qtwHqZiEOdWldd4TJAQGbkYHj7_aTS_qHLhlDEis05tjsOaWvNvyFoyZ_TBydEuBu7dZnark4EF25e1CIs54kEmn/s1600/237000793_4535052219838490_5035894515878889212_n.jpg" width="150" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 14pt;">“</span><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 18pt;">V</span><i><span style="color: #221e1f; font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 18pt;">ocê, lindo sonho que vem a mim em um vento ligeiro. Pousa em
suave forma de brisa sobre minha pele que é seu porto e, você, meu anseio.
Você, serena musa, com olhos de cristais brilhantes e carnudos lábios rubis e
pequenos seios ofegantes. Seu rosto envergonhado se torna vermelho carmim e sua
pele de seda exala perfumes; doce fragrância de amor, delicada flor, odor de
alecrim. Você, menina suave, serena. Seus gestos se mostram delicados e amenos;
juventude em flor, água fresca, néctar licor. Puros lábios de mel! Seus beijos
gostosos são de doce sabor. Em seus secretos desejos, embriago-me e em você,
todo me afago. Em suas curvas de pele morena e em teu rosto marrom refresco-me
com seus beijos. Descansa-me em sua pele de delicados tons. Em suas asas de
libélula, faz-me passageiro em seus delicados voos. Anjo moreno! Sua luz
cintila em suaves e brilhantes neons! Meu corpo molhado, quente por você, é
assim que estou. Em minha fase nua, paixão toda crua, revelo-me em segredos a
você, toda bela e nua. Contemplo seu esplendor! Das estrelas já não mais
preciso. Anseio apenas pela luz de sua presença. Nos quintais dos meus jardins,
serás a flor de único nome: amor.”</span></i></p><i><span style="color: #221e1f; font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 18pt; mso-ansi-language: PT-BR; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">
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<!--[endif]--></span></i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #221e1f; font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Alegreya;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBZ5gsn4uC9C2BiB4jTvQzQd2voJBTKLyQbaJgKC6admCyhyphenhyphenJZmpUj2nQm7oX47C23FXgfVLxU6_s1NasNRG9IjLuKEfZnN09Zd8DlxWrpdG3tDEH7zwBn2dDs87YVIyxUzvrh75dAH3M/s833/IMG_20211114_201531784.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="625" data-original-width="833" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBZ5gsn4uC9C2BiB4jTvQzQd2voJBTKLyQbaJgKC6admCyhyphenhyphenJZmpUj2nQm7oX47C23FXgfVLxU6_s1NasNRG9IjLuKEfZnN09Zd8DlxWrpdG3tDEH7zwBn2dDs87YVIyxUzvrh75dAH3M/s320/IMG_20211114_201531784.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></i></div><i><span style="color: #221e1f; font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Alegreya;"><br /></span></i><span style="color: #221e1f; font-family: Alegreya; font-size: 11pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Alegreya;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"> </span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: medium; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;">Esse poema é parte de " Moheki".
Adalberto Betonicou<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT-BR;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Arte : Yasmim Mesquita</span><o:p style="font-size: 13.5pt;"></o:p></span></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7825589191459470151.post-66971378758065987232022-06-18T16:18:00.002-07:002023-04-28T09:24:48.453-07:00Sopro de beija-flor© Copyright<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA0Lan1m1Igpz6nUrU32HQx-fjn06MfwCpSye_F1Rwb46te5szaxhE3lucXUbtcWOs3R69wyz5iOwGBO_qsCx_FQTwGE-iRGk6oc9DwA3QKOxl8Amwvc7YUIWsiU7mGIBF3fSaE5-9BTPtDCb2oAhqcEjXEatXRdnp9POMKlZEmLbzsmKEr_73qxtc/s705/6477f13a7c221ce96251e46c80d75b60.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="705" data-original-width="564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA0Lan1m1Igpz6nUrU32HQx-fjn06MfwCpSye_F1Rwb46te5szaxhE3lucXUbtcWOs3R69wyz5iOwGBO_qsCx_FQTwGE-iRGk6oc9DwA3QKOxl8Amwvc7YUIWsiU7mGIBF3fSaE5-9BTPtDCb2oAhqcEjXEatXRdnp9POMKlZEmLbzsmKEr_73qxtc/s320/6477f13a7c221ce96251e46c80d75b60.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">Se eu beijo, </span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">é</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;"> beijo de passarinho,
flor de lua que vem chegando. Quando vejo, j</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">á</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;"> beijei, em aquarelas,
lindas cores que pintei a flor, que o meu bico de néctar, vai, de cor e sabor,
semeando. Para beijar a flor viro beija-flor. No frio, anseio: n</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">ã</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">o o ver</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">ã</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">o, mas sim, as primaveras.
Desejo os lábios doces das azaleias. A terra </span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">é</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;"> c</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">é</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">u de estrelas floradas. A
lua, </span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">é</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;"> rosa a desabrochar, em prateada flor no céu das madrugadas. Aqui
tem jardins floridos. Tem centeio, joio, misturados num sortido campo de trigo.
Se sou forte ou fraco, nem ninho fa</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">ç</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">o. Neste jardim, nem eu
mesmo fico. Sou passarinho aterrizado, pois no ch</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">ã</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">o sou menino, mesmo eu a
brincar; mesmo sempre comigo. Em um
beijo magro ralo o corpo, a palpitar, ecos de destemperos. Se te beijo, sou p</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">á</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">ssaro errante, a pousar nos
lábios o beijo carregado de exageros. Sou apaixonado, itinerante de beijos
soprados. Se te beijo, sopro em tua boca desejos c</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">á</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">lidos, um sopro
embevecido. Sou vento em brisa a beijar a boca da face extasiada. Sou chuva
mansa a salpicar de gotas apaixonadas os l</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">á</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">bios relutantes. De beijo
em beijo, sou p</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">á</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">ssaro de voos itinerantes. Sou toque, a roubar do vento, memorias, que esvoa</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">ç</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">am em breves ares moribundos. Sou beijo an</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">é</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">lito, sou seta ferrenha,
a calar em beijos, a soprar l</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">á</span><span style="font-size: 16pt;">bios, em eternos, divagantes e doces
segundos.</span></span></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAYyjlGiQGvZXnXazqFF8QgO4bAVPsUnTbQoThwQ7lEGoI-f1Cvz0GJACp0N-iyDx4HPtYqSZim6SuDZHnnmRSuSC9FHmT7m2lu0GpJI6RrGrOz1v7GoEVes4hsD2aLNP7glKQmCec8ncZM514FkccALrsuPqJeuukPRL1_36wROIApweuyso4ko2j/s546/f4e5c3f14fa2bcbb89764c8e86ff7ea0.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="546" data-original-width="400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAYyjlGiQGvZXnXazqFF8QgO4bAVPsUnTbQoThwQ7lEGoI-f1Cvz0GJACp0N-iyDx4HPtYqSZim6SuDZHnnmRSuSC9FHmT7m2lu0GpJI6RrGrOz1v7GoEVes4hsD2aLNP7glKQmCec8ncZM514FkccALrsuPqJeuukPRL1_36wROIApweuyso4ko2j/s320/f4e5c3f14fa2bcbb89764c8e86ff7ea0.jpg" width="234" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Blackadder ITC"; font-size: 16pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="color: #7f6000;">Betonicou</span></span></span><b style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Alegreya;">©</b><div><br /></div>Betonicouhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11519823373152495413noreply@blogger.com16