<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505</id><updated>2012-02-16T09:46:57.244-02:00</updated><category term='tempo'/><category term='dia dos namorados'/><category term='aniversário'/><category term='renúncia'/><category term='tatuagem'/><category term='dia dos professores'/><category term='distância'/><category term='saudade'/><category term='ciúme'/><category term='amor'/><category term='namorada'/><category term='ideal'/><category term='professor'/><category term='namorado'/><category term='professora'/><title type='text'>Temporal Atemporal</title><subtitle type='html'>Blog de poesias de Brunna Duarte. Intenso como temporais e eternizado pela arte, que não conhece o tempo.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>82</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-4269704654508417719</id><published>2011-12-04T22:00:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2011-12-04T22:12:25.893-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Constatação</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-w7PQNuSs42w/TtwMGisjSyI/AAAAAAAACng/BAks3eppxeU/s1600/constata%25C3%25A7%25C3%25A3o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-w7PQNuSs42w/TtwMGisjSyI/AAAAAAAACng/BAks3eppxeU/s320/constata%25C3%25A7%25C3%25A3o.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="goog_1549397205"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="goog_1549397206"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tempo sem afeto&lt;br /&gt;É fato&lt;br /&gt;Não consumado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Da alegria&lt;br /&gt;Consome os tons de cor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De tudo&amp;nbsp;resta&amp;nbsp;dor,&lt;br /&gt;ficção,&lt;br /&gt;Anseios sem razão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Um fim de semana de 2011)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-4269704654508417719?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/4269704654508417719/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=4269704654508417719&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/4269704654508417719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/4269704654508417719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2011/12/constatacao.html' title='Constatação'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-w7PQNuSs42w/TtwMGisjSyI/AAAAAAAACng/BAks3eppxeU/s72-c/constata%25C3%25A7%25C3%25A3o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-3874241341399261615</id><published>2011-07-28T00:07:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-07-28T00:07:12.481-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Irresoluta</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aNQoL-W3bdM/TjDQXV1ueAI/AAAAAAAACmU/wcGXC5cvD7M/s1600/eu_iria.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aNQoL-W3bdM/TjDQXV1ueAI/AAAAAAAACmU/wcGXC5cvD7M/s320/eu_iria.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px;"&gt;Se soubesse do fim, não sei que fim teria dado ao começo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Se soubesse que mereço mais daquilo que desejo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Se soubesse, o que faria?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Talvez te desse um pouco mais de ousadia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;E falaria tão perto quanto o ar no teu rosto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;E te daria o gosto de fazer o que não deveria&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Se eu soubesse que fim isso teria&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Eu teria coragem e não medo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;E adoraria fazer o nosso segredo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;O que não deveria, à luz do dia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Se soubesse que teria você&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Eu não saberia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Que meus movimentos movem teu gosto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Em um mais, além, de pura simpatia.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Eu iria.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px;"&gt;(27.07.2011) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-3874241341399261615?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/3874241341399261615/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=3874241341399261615&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/3874241341399261615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/3874241341399261615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2011/07/irresoluta.html' title='Irresoluta'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aNQoL-W3bdM/TjDQXV1ueAI/AAAAAAAACmU/wcGXC5cvD7M/s72-c/eu_iria.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-4643127673374786230</id><published>2011-04-24T01:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-04-24T01:24:36.326-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tempo'/><title type='text'>Meia-noite</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.google.com.br/imgres?imgurl=http://annanna.zip.net/images/metade.jpg&amp;amp;imgrefurl=http://guiaparafelicidade.zip.net/arch2009-09-13_2009-09-19.html&amp;amp;usg=__XU2HGoUDouuaPCJhY8MpK_iM9ww=&amp;amp;h=336&amp;amp;w=450&amp;amp;sz=33&amp;amp;hl=pt-BR&amp;amp;start=3&amp;amp;sig2=4AaBNNeErhwNmT3SJ2eEJw&amp;amp;zoom=1&amp;amp;tbnid=2MR7A99Fg-X-ZM:&amp;amp;tbnh=95&amp;amp;tbnw=127&amp;amp;ei=m6WzTb2cNOTo0QHW0_WWCg&amp;amp;prev=/search%3Fq%3Dmetade%26hl%3Dpt-BR%26biw%3D1366%26bih%3D667%26site%3Dsearch%26tbm%3Disch&amp;amp;um=1&amp;amp;itbs=1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="238" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zqm1WRuLcj0/TbOl4_SCMQI/AAAAAAAACmQ/KQa_aHs6Piw/s320/metade.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É pouco mais da metade de uma noite&lt;br /&gt;Da quase metade de uma nova vida&lt;br /&gt;Que se vive pela metade, em parte&lt;br /&gt;E parte se vive somente sentida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sou quase metade do que desejo&lt;br /&gt;E nem metade de tudo que quero&lt;br /&gt;Sou a mulher desejosa de um beijo&lt;br /&gt;Sou louca em razão por aquilo que espero&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou ela, eu, ela&lt;br /&gt;Ela sou eu, ela, eu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É pouco menos da metade de um dia&lt;br /&gt;Deito pensamentos em uma pequena almofada&lt;br /&gt;Ainda tão longe da tarde vazia&lt;br /&gt;Lamento a tristeza a que estou fadada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas, meu Deus, que vergonha que sinto&lt;br /&gt;Sou só ela, eu, ela&lt;br /&gt;Sou só eu, ela, eu&lt;br /&gt;A mulher que te chama em versos&lt;br /&gt;Despertando em sonhos diversos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Só só ela, eu, ela. E uma meia-noite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(24.04.2011)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-4643127673374786230?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/4643127673374786230/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=4643127673374786230&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/4643127673374786230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/4643127673374786230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2011/04/meia-noite.html' title='Meia-noite'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zqm1WRuLcj0/TbOl4_SCMQI/AAAAAAAACmQ/KQa_aHs6Piw/s72-c/metade.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-1813991313023434565</id><published>2010-12-06T12:52:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-12-06T12:52:50.930-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Diagnose</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/TPz4OugTzFI/AAAAAAAACl8/OlxMDCc7Gws/s1600/Futuro%252C+passado%252C+presente%255B1%255D..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/TPz4OugTzFI/AAAAAAAACl8/OlxMDCc7Gws/s1600/Futuro%252C+passado%252C+presente%255B1%255D..jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muitas vezes, caminhando por caminhos de sim&lt;br /&gt;Me vi parada na curva da indecisão&lt;br /&gt;Atraída por caminhos de não&lt;br /&gt;Com medo de um próximo passo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E de saldo, me veio o cansaço&lt;br /&gt;Vendas da insegurança tapando meus sonhos&lt;br /&gt;Desesperança desesperada por ter&lt;br /&gt;Olhos livres de qualquer presciência&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ansiando viver o futuro distante&lt;br /&gt;Me fiz do presente, ausente&lt;br /&gt;Como quem mora em uma casa sem portas&lt;br /&gt;Avistando alegrias que não me são pertencentes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E disso restou algo que não é alegre nem triste&lt;br /&gt;Édito de um silêncio que tanto diz&lt;br /&gt;Um pouco de quase tudo daquilo que existe&lt;br /&gt;Da busca de um desejo vivo de viver feliz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-1813991313023434565?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/1813991313023434565/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=1813991313023434565&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1813991313023434565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1813991313023434565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2010/12/diagnose.html' title='Diagnose'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/TPz4OugTzFI/AAAAAAAACl8/OlxMDCc7Gws/s72-c/Futuro%252C+passado%252C+presente%255B1%255D..jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-2062059792040700209</id><published>2010-09-11T00:56:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-11T00:56:19.296-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='distância'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amor'/><title type='text'>Onde mora a distância</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/TIr9lqlQ4kI/AAAAAAAAClQ/ZOw0pFw5KTE/s1600/distancia_amor_reencontro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="234" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/TIr9lqlQ4kI/AAAAAAAAClQ/ZOw0pFw5KTE/s320/distancia_amor_reencontro.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No transcorrer de uma história contada&lt;br /&gt;Que percorreu caminho já conhecido ao meu autoreflexo&lt;br /&gt;Vi a proximidade daquilo que me faz viver&lt;br /&gt;E do que me faz querer partir&lt;br /&gt;E voltar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As medidas pareciam tão relatas, relativas&lt;br /&gt;Pareciam tão implacáveis ao meu tão doce desejo&lt;br /&gt;E eram frias, quantificáveis&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto o que me habitava se via crescentemente imensurável&lt;br /&gt;Era como se pudesse ver o amor distante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A distância, então, se fazia assim&lt;br /&gt;Brincadeira inocente&lt;br /&gt;Visão indefensa capaz de sufocar&lt;br /&gt;Matar de dor os sonhos nascentes&lt;br /&gt;E alimentar de falta os medos crescentes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fora como o duelo entre resigno e sofreguidão&lt;br /&gt;Num impasse destrutivamente silencioso&lt;br /&gt;Numa vontade de enlouquecer por saídas&lt;br /&gt;Ou sanar-se dolorosamente numa simples resposta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nesse momento, pude ver tão claramente&lt;br /&gt;A escuridão da falta, da partida&lt;br /&gt;E a vida refletida&lt;br /&gt;Revista nos olhos daquele que volta ao seu lugar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secos de sal&lt;br /&gt;Olhos tristes seguiram, vendo, verdades&lt;br /&gt;Que o amor não vive só.&lt;br /&gt;Ele caminha junto,&lt;br /&gt;Ajuntando extremidades.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(11.09.2010)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-2062059792040700209?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/2062059792040700209/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=2062059792040700209&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/2062059792040700209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/2062059792040700209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2010/09/onde-mora-distancia.html' title='Onde mora a distância'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/TIr9lqlQ4kI/AAAAAAAAClQ/ZOw0pFw5KTE/s72-c/distancia_amor_reencontro.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-5093598559110496369</id><published>2010-03-15T22:14:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T22:21:02.581-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Dilema</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/S57anYVjyiI/AAAAAAAACkE/Mx2Iz2ek3lI/s1600-h/cora%C3%A7%C3%A3o%20de%20gelo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/S57anYVjyiI/AAAAAAAACkE/Mx2Iz2ek3lI/s320/cora%C3%A7%C3%A3o%20de%20gelo.jpg" width="319" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mulher. Sim, assim, sou mulher.&lt;br /&gt;Mulher das predefinições&lt;br /&gt;De papéis assumidos em um lugar&lt;br /&gt;Das expectativas implícitas no aprendizado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sou mulher dos quereres incríveis&lt;br /&gt;Dos sonhos irrealizados&lt;br /&gt;Das vontades incessantes&lt;br /&gt;Das lágrimas com gosto de desespero&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mulher... mulher.&lt;br /&gt;Sou mulher de firmeza nas palavras&lt;br /&gt;De cautela nas ações&lt;br /&gt;E de um acreditar inacreditável&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sou do olhar com gosto de desejo&lt;br /&gt;Do abraço pedinte de beijo&lt;br /&gt;Do beijo de amor querendo atenção&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sou mulher que não sabe se foge ou se entrega&lt;br /&gt;De razão que tem medo e por isso renega&lt;br /&gt;O amor sedutor ao alcance das mãos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(15.03.2010)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-5093598559110496369?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/5093598559110496369/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=5093598559110496369&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/5093598559110496369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/5093598559110496369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2010/03/dilema.html' title='Dilema'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/S57anYVjyiI/AAAAAAAACkE/Mx2Iz2ek3lI/s72-c/cora%C3%A7%C3%A3o%20de%20gelo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-1182082324944518370</id><published>2010-02-15T00:44:00.003-02:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T17:15:20.178-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='distância'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ideal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amor'/><title type='text'>Amor ideal</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.satine.org/images/cying_willow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438296059681587426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/S3i1c_S6QOI/AAAAAAAACiw/86bRI1MkV8g/s320/cying_willow.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meus amores fantásticos&lt;br /&gt;Feitos de pura fantasia&lt;br /&gt;Para superar o tédio&lt;br /&gt;Do amor corriqueiro&lt;br /&gt;Surgem sorrateiros&lt;br /&gt;Sobreviventes em devaneios&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vivem na inexistência&lt;br /&gt;Resistentes na falta&lt;br /&gt;Adoecendo na presença&lt;br /&gt;Sufocando por falta de novos ares&lt;br /&gt;Pedintes acostumados a migalhas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alimento-os de impossibilidades&lt;br /&gt;Fugindo de realidades tangíveis&lt;br /&gt;Aquelas cheias de vida intensa&lt;br /&gt;Que terminam com tanta saudade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou o próprio medo&lt;br /&gt;Nada há nada de coragem&lt;br /&gt;Nessa fortaleza intocável&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É que amando-o longe&lt;br /&gt;O sinto perto&lt;br /&gt;E esqueço por um instante&lt;br /&gt;O quanto estou só.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(14.02.2010)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-1182082324944518370?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/1182082324944518370/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=1182082324944518370&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1182082324944518370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1182082324944518370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2010/02/amor-ideal.html' title='Amor ideal'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/S3i1c_S6QOI/AAAAAAAACiw/86bRI1MkV8g/s72-c/cying_willow.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-2149879993882257369</id><published>2009-11-18T13:14:00.002-02:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T13:16:32.531-02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tempo'/><title type='text'>Tempo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SwQPhu1CtyI/AAAAAAAACf0/l6zX1WBKeLc/s1600/tempo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 201px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SwQPhu1CtyI/AAAAAAAACf0/l6zX1WBKeLc/s320/tempo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405462524932044578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O tempo, passageiro ou insistente&lt;br /&gt;Que ora voa, ora se sente interminável&lt;br /&gt;Medido e delimitado&lt;br /&gt;Transpassando a própria vida&lt;br /&gt;Que dura! Perdura&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matemática infinda, sentimento presente&lt;br /&gt;Na mente edificante do futuro&lt;br /&gt;Estabelecido em alicerces passados&lt;br /&gt;Com o tempo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grande Mestre ensinando por gerações&lt;br /&gt;O valor de tê-lo, não perdê-lo&lt;br /&gt;Ou ainda, aproveitá-lo&lt;br /&gt;Para conjugar em vida&lt;br /&gt;A vida que sempre recomeça&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ele, que nunca para&lt;br /&gt;Vê na ação a superação&lt;br /&gt;A valorização, a admiração&lt;br /&gt;Da boa intenção que se concretiza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E, em nome do amor,&lt;br /&gt;Do perdão e da sabedoria&lt;br /&gt;Faz-se esperança&lt;br /&gt;Boa nova que acredita&lt;br /&gt;Temperança natural.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(18.11.2009)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-2149879993882257369?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/2149879993882257369/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=2149879993882257369&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/2149879993882257369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/2149879993882257369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/11/tempo.html' title='Tempo'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SwQPhu1CtyI/AAAAAAAACf0/l6zX1WBKeLc/s72-c/tempo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-3975496866981660397</id><published>2009-10-15T12:18:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T13:12:18.043-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='professora'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='professor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dia dos professores'/><title type='text'>Expressão aprendiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/StdFeSxlCJI/AAAAAAAACfs/NZnB7yB3U34/s1600-h/bb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 186px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/StdFeSxlCJI/AAAAAAAACfs/NZnB7yB3U34/s320/bb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392855465537636498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nos meus primeiros passos em direção ao mundo&lt;br /&gt;Na ânsia de um saber não delimitado&lt;br /&gt;Confiando o meu máximo&lt;br /&gt;Às mãos alheias à minha vontade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foi assim, entregue a vozes não familiares&lt;br /&gt;Que me diziam que devia dizer&lt;br /&gt;E como dizer, para quem dizer&lt;br /&gt;Que confiando, aprendi o que quer dizer confiança&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eram tios e tias&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo sem serem irmãos&lt;br /&gt;Na expressão da certeza do carinho que surgia&lt;br /&gt;Dia-a-dia, numa convivência que ensina a viver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De alguns tive um medo respeitoso&lt;br /&gt;De outros, um amor estrondoso&lt;br /&gt;E de outros, um admirar sem limites&lt;br /&gt;E de todos, tanta saudade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dos meus deuses portadores do saber o mundo&lt;br /&gt;Da generosidade da partilha&lt;br /&gt;Da paciência que entendia&lt;br /&gt;E compreendia uma fé inabalável&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fé, de semeadores de futuros&lt;br /&gt;Crédulos em cada palavra dita&lt;br /&gt;Seguindo caminhos impensáveis&lt;br /&gt;Habitantes de corações e imaginários&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peritos na arte de cultivar&lt;br /&gt;Talentos, sonhos e boas recordações&lt;br /&gt;Não morrem. Nunca.&lt;br /&gt;Vivem em cada gesto das vidas que seguem e seguem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vejo-os assim, como horizontes&lt;br /&gt;Sem limites nem definições&lt;br /&gt;Como mártires do cotidiano&lt;br /&gt;Por si só, meio e mensagem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;São Eles e Elas&lt;br /&gt;Veras, Robertos e Maristelas&lt;br /&gt;Abundância de nomes e sobrenomes&lt;br /&gt;Para denominar uma infinidade&lt;br /&gt;De admiração que me acompanha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nas palavras, o carinho&lt;br /&gt;Singeleza na expressão de meu respeito&lt;br /&gt;Aos meus gigantes, docemente sabedores&lt;br /&gt;Ou ainda, professores&lt;br /&gt;Minha eterna gratidão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(15.10.2009)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-3975496866981660397?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/3975496866981660397/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=3975496866981660397&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/3975496866981660397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/3975496866981660397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/10/expressao-aprendiz.html' title='Expressão aprendiz'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/StdFeSxlCJI/AAAAAAAACfs/NZnB7yB3U34/s72-c/bb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-3318401364712784271</id><published>2009-09-28T15:40:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T16:16:30.399-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='distância'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='aniversário'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='saudade'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amor'/><title type='text'>Amor reticente</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SsELb47-vGI/AAAAAAAACe8/HcE10UK6GvQ/s1600-h/horizonte.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 215px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SsELb47-vGI/AAAAAAAACe8/HcE10UK6GvQ/s320/horizonte.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386599203080158306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neste dia carregado de simbolismos&lt;br /&gt;Comemorando presenças no mundo&lt;br /&gt;Como um nascimento e uma grande vitória&lt;br /&gt;Ou um reencontro inesperado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foram as palavras que me trouxeram até aqui&lt;br /&gt;Tão perto das nuvens, onde posso sonhar&lt;br /&gt;Que o sonho agora é realidade&lt;br /&gt;E não há distância&lt;br /&gt;Para quem ama de verdade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trago mais que presentes na bagagem&lt;br /&gt;Carrego comigo escolhas, saudade e dissabores&lt;br /&gt;De uma ausência que se fez eterna enquanto durou&lt;br /&gt;De um desejo tão, sempre, superlativo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nos seus olhos, somente neles encontrarei&lt;br /&gt;A mim e às respostas que busco&lt;br /&gt;Desde que te encontrei&lt;br /&gt;E me desencontrei por não estar contigo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não, não é doença nem fracasso nem loucura&lt;br /&gt;É cansaço&lt;br /&gt;Irritação desmedida por sua falta de senso e sensibilidade&lt;br /&gt;Para enxergar que sou aquela mulher do nunca&lt;br /&gt;Que jamais te tem e jamais te abandona&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E então, você me deixa&lt;br /&gt;Presa à isca, impossibilitada de fuga&lt;br /&gt;Pois, quanto mais me afasto, mais me machuco&lt;br /&gt;E acabo por tornar reticentes&lt;br /&gt;Os meus pontos finais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(24.09.2009)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-3318401364712784271?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/3318401364712784271/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=3318401364712784271&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/3318401364712784271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/3318401364712784271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/09/amor-reticente.html' title='Amor reticente'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SsELb47-vGI/AAAAAAAACe8/HcE10UK6GvQ/s72-c/horizonte.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-8975840956257769238</id><published>2009-09-17T22:43:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T22:46:24.805-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Autocensura</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SrLmXmvGhhI/AAAAAAAACeE/6dB287Rp1aU/s1600-h/fuga.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SrLmXmvGhhI/AAAAAAAACeE/6dB287Rp1aU/s320/fuga.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382617797870650898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me tentaram&lt;br /&gt;Mensurar as desventuras da loucura que foi&lt;br /&gt;Ou é ou será te amar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esse eixo que me leva sempre ao desencontro&lt;br /&gt;De retornos tortuosos ao passado&lt;br /&gt;De desejos esquecidos&lt;br /&gt;Ou esquecimentos desejados&lt;br /&gt;De vida.&lt;br /&gt;Que não existiu?&lt;br /&gt;De inexistência vivida, revivida,&lt;br /&gt;Talvez imortal,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os olhares divididos entre o infortúnio e a glória&lt;br /&gt;Um corpo que redargui sua falta de respostas&lt;br /&gt;E que não sabe&lt;br /&gt;Se fez querer um anseio olvidado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu, que me alimento de saudade&lt;br /&gt;Sei. Que ignoro a amplitude desses dias&lt;br /&gt;Que replico, multiplico a expressa verdade&lt;br /&gt;Que aspiro o alvitre&lt;br /&gt;Prosaicamente, o chamar da realidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(17.09.2009)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-8975840956257769238?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/8975840956257769238/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=8975840956257769238&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/8975840956257769238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/8975840956257769238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/09/autocensura.html' title='Autocensura'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SrLmXmvGhhI/AAAAAAAACeE/6dB287Rp1aU/s72-c/fuga.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-1062464883643149916</id><published>2009-08-09T15:05:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T15:23:54.399-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Eu, conceito</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sn8TwIdUZPI/AAAAAAAACcw/F2bR5oZGzLY/s1600-h/Bruna.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sn8TwIdUZPI/AAAAAAAACcw/F2bR5oZGzLY/s320/Bruna.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368030998474024178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sobre um chão de conceitos&lt;br /&gt;Diariamente desconstruídos, refeitos&lt;br /&gt;Circundada de preconceitos&lt;br /&gt;Cuja presença se omite, como fantasmas&lt;br /&gt;Dispersos na escuridão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu, meu conceito principal&lt;br /&gt;Neste momento, inexplicado&lt;br /&gt;Sempre vivido, por vezes pensado&lt;br /&gt;Imaginado numa sempre infinitude&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Expressão constantemente buscada&lt;br /&gt;Vista, delimitada&lt;br /&gt;Em versos soltos&lt;br /&gt;E técnicas de clareza&lt;br /&gt;É minha beleza&lt;br /&gt;Verdade exteriorizada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sou eu, assim&lt;br /&gt;Verbalizada em adjetivos&lt;br /&gt;Enumerada em meus inscritos&lt;br /&gt;Reportagem periódica&lt;br /&gt;De imersões de constância duvidosa&lt;br /&gt;Possivelmente incompletas&lt;br /&gt;E tão pouco pessoais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(08.08.2009)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-1062464883643149916?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/1062464883643149916/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=1062464883643149916&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1062464883643149916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1062464883643149916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/08/eu-conceito.html' title='Eu, conceito'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sn8TwIdUZPI/AAAAAAAACcw/F2bR5oZGzLY/s72-c/Bruna.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-46368262737061376</id><published>2009-08-09T00:58:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T01:04:35.153-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Como estrelas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sn5KxICsJtI/AAAAAAAACco/N5SGCZj2uZI/s1600-h/rua-de-noite.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sn5KxICsJtI/AAAAAAAACco/N5SGCZj2uZI/s400/rua-de-noite.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367810013705021138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;"&gt;Dias antes de um dia qualquer&lt;br /&gt;No encontro de caminhos perpendiculares&lt;br /&gt;Cruzando pensamentos recentes&lt;br /&gt;Que insistem como seculares&lt;br /&gt;De instantes desejosos de eternidade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bem ali&lt;br /&gt;Num ímpeto de sim e de não&lt;br /&gt;Meus olhos lançaram-se à escuridão&lt;br /&gt;Exautos de sonhos e sono&lt;br /&gt;Desejosos de vida e realidade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esses olhos tão sempre ilusórios&lt;br /&gt;Que se revelam por clarões ou emoções&lt;br /&gt;Como estrelas&lt;br /&gt;Quimeras&lt;br /&gt;Eternamente próximas&lt;br /&gt;Igualmente inalteráveis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estoque de arbítrios constantes&lt;br /&gt;De pecados proclamados aleatoriamente&lt;br /&gt;Incumbida de calar a existência&lt;br /&gt;De minha afeição desmedida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(07.08.2009)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-46368262737061376?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/46368262737061376/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=46368262737061376&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/46368262737061376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/46368262737061376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/08/como-estrelas.html' title='Como estrelas'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sn5KxICsJtI/AAAAAAAACco/N5SGCZj2uZI/s72-c/rua-de-noite.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-6232274383023476532</id><published>2009-08-02T23:46:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T23:49:58.045-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Mãe</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SnZQS4Xl3fI/AAAAAAAACcQ/pXJps75p2f0/s1600-h/mae_filha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SnZQS4Xl3fI/AAAAAAAACcQ/pXJps75p2f0/s320/mae_filha.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365564291357728242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mãe&lt;br /&gt;Tenho buscado em cada gesto&lt;br /&gt;Enaltecer o brilho dos teus olhos&lt;br /&gt;E cultivar sorrisos nesse rosto&lt;br /&gt;Marcado pelas lutas de uma mulher forte&lt;br /&gt;Cuja beleza é incomparável&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu que me quis independente&lt;br /&gt;Me pego querendo colo&lt;br /&gt;E ouvir sua sabedoria&lt;br /&gt;E sentir o seu amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando olho para o mundo, te enxergo&lt;br /&gt;Os meus olhos são mais parecidos com os teus do que nunca&lt;br /&gt;Meus gestos repetem e refletem a admiração&lt;br /&gt;O carinho infinito que tenho por ti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Com você aprendi o valor da presença, da lealdade&lt;br /&gt;Aprendi a escolher minhas amizades&lt;br /&gt;E a valorizar a verdade&lt;br /&gt;Foi contigo que aprendi o amor incondicional&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para te ver feliz sou capaz de tudo&lt;br /&gt;Para te honrar eu desafio o mundo&lt;br /&gt;E supero qualquer barreira&lt;br /&gt;Simplesmente para te ouvir dizer&lt;br /&gt;Que tens orgulho de mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E mesmo não sendo mãe,&lt;br /&gt;Foi com você que aprendi&lt;br /&gt;Que ser mãe é não conhecer limites&lt;br /&gt;Em nome do amor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(07.05.2009)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-6232274383023476532?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/6232274383023476532/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=6232274383023476532&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/6232274383023476532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/6232274383023476532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/08/mae.html' title='Mãe'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SnZQS4Xl3fI/AAAAAAAACcQ/pXJps75p2f0/s72-c/mae_filha.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-6378332439654465598</id><published>2009-07-29T18:53:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T18:58:52.654-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Esperança</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SnDFKPlnV8I/AAAAAAAACbo/BNs2AuGaxMg/s1600-h/corra-tempo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 307px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SnDFKPlnV8I/AAAAAAAACbo/BNs2AuGaxMg/s320/corra-tempo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364003935971923906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Temor e falta&lt;br /&gt;Ansiedade e solidão&lt;br /&gt;Sigo&lt;br /&gt;Presa em uma forma&lt;br /&gt;Envolta em exageros&lt;br /&gt;Alimentada por desejos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nessa longa espera&lt;br /&gt;Corro em direções contrárias&lt;br /&gt;Sempre em busca do infinito&lt;br /&gt;De amor. De liberdade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O sim me recusa&lt;br /&gt;E o não me atormenta&lt;br /&gt;De tanta vida saudosa&lt;br /&gt;E de tanta saudade vivida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sentida em cada dia distante&lt;br /&gt;Em cada lembrança presente&lt;br /&gt;De um sentimento que se esconde&lt;br /&gt;Escancarado em minha mente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minha espera tem nome&lt;br /&gt;E olhos radiantes&lt;br /&gt;Anunciantes da felicidade&lt;br /&gt;De um encontro que se faz último&lt;br /&gt;Ante a nossa eternidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(29.07.2009)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5Cuser%5CCONFIG%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt; 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	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-6378332439654465598?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/6378332439654465598/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=6378332439654465598&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/6378332439654465598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/6378332439654465598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/07/esperanca.html' title='Esperança'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SnDFKPlnV8I/AAAAAAAACbo/BNs2AuGaxMg/s72-c/corra-tempo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-737175557094343116</id><published>2009-07-21T22:57:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T22:58:33.254-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Te perdi</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SmZyPyFnrNI/AAAAAAAACbI/tDDTFg9hK2E/s1600-h/mulher20triste.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 227px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SmZyPyFnrNI/AAAAAAAACbI/tDDTFg9hK2E/s320/mulher20triste.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361098021900102866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu te perdi&lt;br /&gt;Em nuvens brancas&lt;br /&gt;Envoltas em saudade&lt;br /&gt;Uma tristeza de cores fortes&lt;br /&gt;E formas disformes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meus pedaços dispersos&lt;br /&gt;Meus desejos perversos&lt;br /&gt;Conformidade, intensidade&lt;br /&gt;Como me encontrei em você!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aprendi com propriedade&lt;br /&gt;Que amar não é sinônimo de ter&lt;br /&gt;Que quem conquista&lt;br /&gt;Também pode perder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O meu tempo?&lt;br /&gt;Este é incontável&lt;br /&gt;Te amo há séculos&lt;br /&gt;Não vivo sem ti um segundo&lt;br /&gt;Te quero a toda hora&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;És meu&lt;br /&gt;Ainda que em pensamento&lt;br /&gt;Sem história e sem momentos&lt;br /&gt;Em um universo de vontade&lt;br /&gt;E de adeus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(22.05.2009)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-737175557094343116?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/737175557094343116/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=737175557094343116&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/737175557094343116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/737175557094343116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/07/te-perdi.html' title='Te perdi'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SmZyPyFnrNI/AAAAAAAACbI/tDDTFg9hK2E/s72-c/mulher20triste.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-1842723036614898301</id><published>2009-07-15T22:23:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T22:24:45.177-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sermão</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sl6BTGNczjI/AAAAAAAACbA/-uxxq-eYpd4/s1600-h/rebecca1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 282px; height: 250px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sl6BTGNczjI/AAAAAAAACbA/-uxxq-eYpd4/s320/rebecca1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358862771701993010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por que escondes com tanto empenho&lt;br /&gt;A maldade implícita em atitudes corriqueiras&lt;br /&gt;Sorrateiras e dispersas&lt;br /&gt;Capazes de envenenar o mais doce&lt;br /&gt;E cegar o mais sincero?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qual o medo que te impede de olhar para si&lt;br /&gt;Com os mesmos olhos implacáveis com que vês o mundo&lt;br /&gt;Tão imundo, e injusto, e falseado&lt;br /&gt;Desenhado em suas ásperas palavras?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É fácil&lt;br /&gt;Suave e sem medida é o juízo&lt;br /&gt;Sem critério e apático&lt;br /&gt;Disposto a fazer sangrar&lt;br /&gt;A já cicatrizada ferida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Essa frieza exposta em teus sorrisos amedronta&lt;br /&gt;É inconcebível o só pensar em si&lt;br /&gt;Como quem aprende a gostar da doença&lt;br /&gt;A ponto de rejeitar a cura&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma parte maldade&lt;br /&gt;Outra parte loucura&lt;br /&gt;Segues sem censura a causar a dor&lt;br /&gt;E a rejeitar o amor&lt;br /&gt;A negar o perdão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como não?&lt;br /&gt;Não deverias seguir assim&lt;br /&gt;Retribuindo sorrisos com fingimento&lt;br /&gt;E o que é bom com o que é ruim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Diga sim&lt;br /&gt;Para que seu sono seja como brisa na manhã&lt;br /&gt;E não,&lt;br /&gt;Não deixe para amanhã&lt;br /&gt;A libertação de sua alma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te acalma&lt;br /&gt;Não reflita no próximo sua fraqueza e solidão&lt;br /&gt;Saiba que o pesar da inveja é maior&lt;br /&gt;Para quem a carrega no coração.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(15.05.2009)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-1842723036614898301?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/1842723036614898301/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=1842723036614898301&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1842723036614898301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1842723036614898301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/07/sermao.html' title='Sermão'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sl6BTGNczjI/AAAAAAAACbA/-uxxq-eYpd4/s72-c/rebecca1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-3083183649040306990</id><published>2009-07-14T00:03:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T00:05:15.551-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Depoimento</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Slv14-CU84I/AAAAAAAACa4/3TJhiEivK2k/s1600-h/olhar3%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 225px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Slv14-CU84I/AAAAAAAACa4/3TJhiEivK2k/s320/olhar3%5B1%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358146540761576322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me diz, me diz, como alguém consegue ser assim como você?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Fogo que ora queima brando, aquecendo; ora queima forte, incendiando; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Paz que ora acalma, ora situa; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Sentimento que ora engrandece, ora ressalta; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Sonho que ora deseja, ora realiza...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me diz?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Essa complexidade que se apresenta em momentos tão finitos só pode representar um poder tão grande que se diz inexplicável.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ah, o amor. Com essas reticências exclamatórias em forma de interrogação. Tão completo, tão necessário, que junta partes para formar um todo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;O todo que somos cada vez que me encontro em teu olhar onde me perdi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(22.03.2009)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-3083183649040306990?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/3083183649040306990/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=3083183649040306990&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/3083183649040306990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/3083183649040306990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/07/depoimento.html' title='Depoimento'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Slv14-CU84I/AAAAAAAACa4/3TJhiEivK2k/s72-c/olhar3%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-390023309889107144</id><published>2009-07-12T17:04:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T17:05:43.412-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Logo eu</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SlpCBtjmP6I/AAAAAAAACZ4/9rKVDcQrD-k/s1600-h/ontheroadbydargeg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 278px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SlpCBtjmP6I/AAAAAAAACZ4/9rKVDcQrD-k/s320/ontheroadbydargeg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357667303886831522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Logo eu&lt;br /&gt;Eu, assim, só e singular&lt;br /&gt;Que não esperava&lt;br /&gt;Que não amava&lt;br /&gt;Que não queria sonhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Logo, eu&lt;br /&gt;Eu que nunca vi um nós entre eles&lt;br /&gt;Que construía distâncias enormes&lt;br /&gt;Que separavam eu de você&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Logo eu&lt;br /&gt;Eu que não sabia nada de você&lt;br /&gt;Já que o que ficava era só o eu&lt;br /&gt;Que logo fazia o nós não acontecer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Logo eu fui querer você&lt;br /&gt;E desatar os nós, pra pensar em nós&lt;br /&gt;Para o eu se engrandecer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tão logo, eu&lt;br /&gt;Que só sei lutar por mim, e comigo&lt;br /&gt;Vi em você um eu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para lutar por nós&lt;br /&gt;Para pensar em nós&lt;br /&gt;E conjugar em nós&lt;br /&gt;Tudo que podemos viver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(13.03.2009)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-390023309889107144?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/390023309889107144/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=390023309889107144&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/390023309889107144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/390023309889107144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/07/logo-eu.html' title='Logo eu'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SlpCBtjmP6I/AAAAAAAACZ4/9rKVDcQrD-k/s72-c/ontheroadbydargeg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-4531712366140950992</id><published>2009-07-11T00:09:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T00:11:39.906-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Rotina</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SlgCueFaJII/AAAAAAAACZw/SR0aNfbWVSU/s1600-h/245803391_f63c7e6586.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SlgCueFaJII/AAAAAAAACZw/SR0aNfbWVSU/s320/245803391_f63c7e6586.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357034754130191490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="conteudo_11_cinza"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Pêlos macios, calor e cheiro no rosto&lt;br /&gt;Preguiça, vontade de ficar, obrigação de ir&lt;br /&gt;Um recomeço a cada 24 horas&lt;br /&gt;Um universo de oportunidades a cada giro&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Um despertar, um suspiro, um cuidado&lt;br /&gt;O conforto de ter quem se ama ao lado&lt;br /&gt;A paz do sono&lt;br /&gt;A coragem de amanhecer&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A andar, a comer, a começar&lt;br /&gt;O nascer de um novo dia&lt;br /&gt;As companhias e os bom dias&lt;br /&gt;Sem motivos e cheios de importância&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;O trabalho e a decepção, o cansaço&lt;br /&gt;O esforço e o reconhecimento&lt;br /&gt;O orgulho e a evolução&lt;br /&gt;Os frutos&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Os sorrisos e a descontração&lt;br /&gt;A ansiedade e a emoção&lt;br /&gt;As surpresas que trazem&lt;br /&gt;Altas doses de coragem&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;E também os comentários&lt;br /&gt;Por vezes maldosos&lt;br /&gt;Por vezes edificantes&lt;br /&gt;Para ficar alerto, para ficar feliz&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;O estudo e o sorriso&lt;br /&gt;Conhecimento e entretenimento&lt;br /&gt;Essenciais em qualquer essência&lt;br /&gt;Como um livro e uma bobagem&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Um desabafo e uma cerveja&lt;br /&gt;Uma dieta e nada de vícios&lt;br /&gt;Um ir e vir que não sabe bem o rumo&lt;br /&gt;Um rumo para seguir&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Um momento e o amor&lt;br /&gt;Uma lágrima, a dor, a fé&lt;br /&gt;A renovação e o nascimento&lt;br /&gt;A paz e o tormento&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A razão e os sentimentos&lt;br /&gt;O voltar para o lar&lt;br /&gt;O ouvir uma voz familiar&lt;br /&gt;O receber um abraço&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A vontade de Deus, o acaso, a sina&lt;br /&gt;A felicidade e a tristeza&lt;br /&gt;Lado a lado, dia a dia&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A conquista e a desilusão&lt;br /&gt;A calma e a paixão&lt;br /&gt;Felicidade presente ou repentina&lt;br /&gt;Novidade é ter rotina.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(22.01.2009)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-4531712366140950992?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/4531712366140950992/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=4531712366140950992&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/4531712366140950992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/4531712366140950992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/07/rotina.html' title='Rotina'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SlgCueFaJII/AAAAAAAACZw/SR0aNfbWVSU/s72-c/245803391_f63c7e6586.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-710200167223073837</id><published>2009-07-09T22:37:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T22:40:37.548-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Final feliz</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SlacDKJFwxI/AAAAAAAACZo/LhBSi23_vyI/s1600-h/vovo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 210px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SlacDKJFwxI/AAAAAAAACZo/LhBSi23_vyI/s320/vovo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356640384879805202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="conteudo_11_cinza"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Claro que espero, anseio e experimento&lt;br /&gt;Buscar essa felicidade que me encanta&lt;br /&gt;Me arrasta e me leva adiante&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Na verdade, só encontro verdade nos teus sorrisos&lt;br /&gt;Que me mostram o quanto é preciso&lt;br /&gt;O conceito que diz ser preciso tentar&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Desejos são realidades pensadas e quistas&lt;br /&gt;Que nas mãos de quem acredita&lt;br /&gt;Se transformam em felicidades infinitas&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;E decepções são possibilidades&lt;br /&gt;Machucadas pela maldade&lt;br /&gt;De quem prefere sempre o nunca, o não&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;O medo torna o provável, incerto&lt;br /&gt;Mas, que dizer?&lt;br /&gt;É preciso tentar&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Pois a vida é bela, incessante&lt;br /&gt;O amor é eterno e constante&lt;br /&gt;E ainda que o horizonte lhe pareça deserto&lt;br /&gt;No final, dá tudo certo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(13.01.2009)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-710200167223073837?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/710200167223073837/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=710200167223073837&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/710200167223073837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/710200167223073837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/07/final-feliz.html' title='Final feliz'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SlacDKJFwxI/AAAAAAAACZo/LhBSi23_vyI/s72-c/vovo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-1931993281705888929</id><published>2009-07-07T23:26:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T23:28:59.791-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Consternação</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SlQEQ8xThjI/AAAAAAAACZg/zYWn2RQHvDQ/s1600-h/tristeza.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SlQEQ8xThjI/AAAAAAAACZg/zYWn2RQHvDQ/s320/tristeza.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355910546087708210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Uma abundância de lágrimas se disfarça&lt;br /&gt;Atrás de sorrisos convenientes&lt;br /&gt;Encobrindo um coração destruído&lt;br /&gt;Por uma dor que ninguém entende&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Não é possível esquecer&lt;br /&gt;Nem deste viver retirar&lt;br /&gt;A vontade de te querer&lt;br /&gt;O sofrimento por te perder&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Desistir desse amor&lt;br /&gt;É renunciar ao mundo que construí pra nós&lt;br /&gt;É destruir cada sonho&lt;br /&gt;É emudecer cada voz&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A incapacidade que sempre reneguei&lt;br /&gt;É quem me comanda sem você aqui&lt;br /&gt;A tristeza ocupou o espaço&lt;br /&gt;Que você deixou vazio ao partir&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sem ver teu rosto, sem provar teu gosto&lt;br /&gt;Sigo e revivo minha impossibilidade&lt;br /&gt;Acreditando que o amor, por ser amor, resiste&lt;br /&gt;Ao abandono, à falta de verdade.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(03.01.2009)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-1931993281705888929?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/1931993281705888929/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=1931993281705888929&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1931993281705888929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1931993281705888929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/07/consternacao.html' title='Consternação'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SlQEQ8xThjI/AAAAAAAACZg/zYWn2RQHvDQ/s72-c/tristeza.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-8543054394015365755</id><published>2009-07-06T22:10:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T22:15:00.713-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ao acaso</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SlKhMrFCL3I/AAAAAAAACZY/6J9d-KWCxts/s1600-h/2297695460_e6ac5de232.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SlKhMrFCL3I/AAAAAAAACZY/6J9d-KWCxts/s320/2297695460_e6ac5de232.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355520145991282546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="conteudo_11_cinza"&gt;&lt;p&gt;É incrível e surpreendente perceber&lt;br /&gt;Como a vida insiste em acontecer&lt;br /&gt;Nos detalhes de uma dia qualquer&lt;br /&gt;Em fragmentos ignorados do que é inesperado&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A felicidade pode estar numa mera decisão&lt;br /&gt;O fim de um problema numa simples explicação&lt;br /&gt;O sofrimento num momento de fraqueza&lt;br /&gt;A superação após dias de tristeza&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Um simples segundo é o suficiente&lt;br /&gt;Para a vida e para a morte&lt;br /&gt;Uma singela atitude dirá se teremos ou não&lt;br /&gt;Aquilo que chamamos de sorte&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A divina e grandiosa natureza&lt;br /&gt;Em sua inexplicável perfeição&lt;br /&gt;Deu-nos a chance de ter o destino nas mãos&lt;br /&gt;E de fazer escolhas, ainda que irracionais&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Por isso lutamos contra os instintos&lt;br /&gt;E temos vontades e gostos distintos&lt;br /&gt;Por isso amar é renunciar&lt;br /&gt;Ao passo que sua espera pode jamais acabar&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Há que se dividir entre ganhos e sonhos&lt;br /&gt;Entre desejos e medos&lt;br /&gt;Entre aparências e segredos&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Há que sentir um amor doentio&lt;br /&gt;Que te aqueça no tempo frio&lt;br /&gt;E te esqueça quando novo dia chegar&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;E há que se refugiar em um amor inocente&lt;br /&gt;Que de tão sofrido, mente&lt;br /&gt;E transforma em esperança&lt;br /&gt;A dor que deveras sente.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Postado originalmente em 31.12.2008, mas feito antes, em uma data que foge à memória.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-8543054394015365755?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/8543054394015365755/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=8543054394015365755&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/8543054394015365755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/8543054394015365755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/07/ao-acaso.html' title='Ao acaso'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SlKhMrFCL3I/AAAAAAAACZY/6J9d-KWCxts/s72-c/2297695460_e6ac5de232.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-5412005312419258262</id><published>2009-07-05T21:02:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T21:04:22.890-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Intemperança</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SlE_fH8IagI/AAAAAAAACZQ/r35qthPtiF8/s1600-h/mascaras.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SlE_fH8IagI/AAAAAAAACZQ/r35qthPtiF8/s320/mascaras.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355131235859982850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="conteudo_11_cinza"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Diga que já não me quer&lt;br /&gt;Já que meu amor é pouco&lt;br /&gt;Insuficiente para alguém assim&lt;br /&gt;Autossuficiente como você&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Eu te entreguei meus pensamentos&lt;br /&gt;E se assim o quisesse&lt;br /&gt;Teria meus sorrisos e lágrimas&lt;br /&gt;Meu futuro em tuas mãos&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mas não&lt;br /&gt;Preferiu brincar com meus sentimentos&lt;br /&gt;E quis me deixar presa num tempo&lt;br /&gt;Onde o tempo contava a favor de nós&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Todas as palavras são de negação&lt;br /&gt;E todos os sentimentos são de saudade&lt;br /&gt;Como convencer um coração que ama&lt;br /&gt;Ser a solidão um sinônimo de felicidade?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Que preciso de você não escondo&lt;br /&gt;Que te amo além de minhas forças&lt;br /&gt;Não é preciso dizer&lt;br /&gt;Preciso te fazer meu mundo&lt;br /&gt;Antes que meu mundo se acabe sem você.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(31.12.2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-5412005312419258262?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/5412005312419258262/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=5412005312419258262&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/5412005312419258262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/5412005312419258262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/07/intemperanca.html' title='Intemperança'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SlE_fH8IagI/AAAAAAAACZQ/r35qthPtiF8/s72-c/mascaras.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-1309373820102936144</id><published>2009-07-04T18:59:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T19:12:54.981-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sentido</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sk_TaUhfCvI/AAAAAAAACZI/rkjOwNrorqw/s1600-h/1161665179_multidao.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sk_TaUhfCvI/AAAAAAAACZI/rkjOwNrorqw/s320/1161665179_multidao.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354730931106024178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="conteudo_11_cinza"&gt;&lt;p&gt;São vozes que ditam que fomos feitos de sonhos&lt;br /&gt;E que deles vivemos&lt;br /&gt;Ignorando ser preciso&lt;br /&gt;Acordar para a realidade viver&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;São vozes certas e cheias de incerteza&lt;br /&gt;Que orientam o prazer e o amor&lt;br /&gt;Que sufocam e renegam&lt;br /&gt;As vozes que ousam confessar medo e dor&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Há valor em sorrisos distribuídos&lt;br /&gt;Construídos sem respeito aos limites&lt;br /&gt;Representantes dos olhos fechados&lt;br /&gt;Que agregam vontades alheias?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sim. Enaltece, enlouquece&lt;br /&gt;Quem desaprova e agradece&lt;br /&gt;Aquele que não se esquece&lt;br /&gt;Da importância de não enganar a si&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;E se decepciona quem ainda acredita&lt;br /&gt;Já que as maiores mentiras que existem&lt;br /&gt;São verdades, aquelas&lt;br /&gt;Que nunca foram ditas.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(17.12.2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-1309373820102936144?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/1309373820102936144/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=1309373820102936144&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1309373820102936144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1309373820102936144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/07/sentido.html' title='Sentido'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sk_TaUhfCvI/AAAAAAAACZI/rkjOwNrorqw/s72-c/1161665179_multidao.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-521344509216081485</id><published>2009-07-02T19:36:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T19:43:22.924-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Silencioso grito</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sk03EVhPh4I/AAAAAAAACY4/1Iue5fuLb3w/s1600-h/no+love.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 319px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sk03EVhPh4I/AAAAAAAACY4/1Iue5fuLb3w/s320/no+love.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353996079648966530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Lá vem ela novamente&lt;br /&gt;Tristeza, saudade, dor que se sabe&lt;br /&gt;Sem você&lt;br /&gt;Derrepente&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Derrepente sou nada&lt;br /&gt;E nada vivi&lt;br /&gt;Nada valeu&lt;br /&gt;Derrepente tudo é nada&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Nesse mundo sem chão&lt;br /&gt;Solto no ar&lt;br /&gt;Imaginei que meu apoio seria&lt;br /&gt;Talvez, você&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Meu amor&lt;br /&gt;Cadê você?&lt;br /&gt;Me diz que não recomeça o pesadelo&lt;br /&gt;Me diz&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Me dê sua certeza&lt;br /&gt;Já que a minha inexiste&lt;br /&gt;Já que estou tomada de um amor&lt;br /&gt;Que faz de sua falta intolerável&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Me deixa te reencontrar&lt;br /&gt;E iniciar um novo parágrafo&lt;br /&gt;Ainda que para isto&lt;br /&gt;Necessite pôr um ponto final&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Viver poesia me faz frágil&lt;br /&gt;E me entorpeço pelas emoções&lt;br /&gt;Que me tomam e me deixam&lt;br /&gt;E sempre estou só&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Segure a minha mão&lt;br /&gt;Para que eu reinicie em prosa&lt;br /&gt;O amor que grita em mim&lt;br /&gt;Que eu te amo, eu te amo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(23.11.2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-521344509216081485?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/521344509216081485/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=521344509216081485&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/521344509216081485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/521344509216081485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/07/silencioso-grito.html' title='Silencioso grito'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sk03EVhPh4I/AAAAAAAACY4/1Iue5fuLb3w/s72-c/no+love.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-8026550097808728049</id><published>2009-07-01T23:04:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T23:07:40.328-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Certas incertezas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SkwV-d_Nn3I/AAAAAAAACYw/tgAM_d_UuIU/s1600-h/Ewa%2BBrzozowska.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SkwV-d_Nn3I/AAAAAAAACYw/tgAM_d_UuIU/s320/Ewa%2BBrzozowska.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353678219982511986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="conteudo_11_cinza"&gt;Quanto valeria as respostas de uma realidade&lt;br /&gt;Onde estou perdida&lt;br /&gt;Entre quereres e incertezas&lt;br /&gt;Tomada de saudade e tristeza?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como seguir se milhões não se comparam aos teus abraços&lt;br /&gt;E é preciso entregar-me ao cansaço&lt;br /&gt;Para esquecer o medo de perder-te?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O mundo quer tornar impossíveis nossas possibilidades&lt;br /&gt;Aproveitam-se a todo instante&lt;br /&gt;De nossa frágil sensibilidade&lt;br /&gt;Querem destruir-nos&lt;br /&gt;A começar pelos nossos sonhos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ainda assim&lt;br /&gt;Entre o conformismo e o desespero&lt;br /&gt;Orgulhosamente apaixonada&lt;br /&gt;Te desejo cada vez mais&lt;br /&gt;Na turbulência do meu nobre exagero&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se olho para todos os lados&lt;br /&gt;E mesmo assim não vejo saída&lt;br /&gt;Aquilo que deveria me enfraquecer&lt;br /&gt;Faz eu ter mais certeza de que és a minha vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(30.10.2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-8026550097808728049?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/8026550097808728049/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=8026550097808728049&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/8026550097808728049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/8026550097808728049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/07/certas-incertezas.html' title='Certas incertezas'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SkwV-d_Nn3I/AAAAAAAACYw/tgAM_d_UuIU/s72-c/Ewa%2BBrzozowska.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-4747085451905756637</id><published>2009-06-30T22:19:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T22:22:15.170-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sem você não pode ser</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Skq6LrztKDI/AAAAAAAACYg/9g5-ZCRDd7s/s1600-h/marta.glinska4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 236px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Skq6LrztKDI/AAAAAAAACYg/9g5-ZCRDd7s/s320/marta.glinska4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353295816984176690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="conteudo_11_cinza"&gt;&lt;p&gt;É por este medo de perder-te&lt;br /&gt;Que preciso, quero&lt;br /&gt;Que vou logo encontrar-te&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Meu amor,&lt;br /&gt;Vivo-te a cada instante&lt;br /&gt;Em meus sonhos.&lt;br /&gt;E nem mesmo em sonhos&lt;br /&gt;Posso deixar de desejar-te&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Te amo em um amor verdadeiro e inseguro&lt;br /&gt;Que te quer em todo&lt;br /&gt;E a cada instante&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Já não posso ser feliz&lt;br /&gt;Um segundo sequer&lt;br /&gt;Com você assim, distante&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A única renúncia que tenho feito&lt;br /&gt;Sem você aqui comigo&lt;br /&gt;É à minha felicidade&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Segue na mente e no peito&lt;br /&gt;Entre tudo que foi dito e feito&lt;br /&gt;Uma imensidão de saudade.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(20.10.2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-4747085451905756637?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/4747085451905756637/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=4747085451905756637&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/4747085451905756637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/4747085451905756637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/06/sem-voce-nao-pode-ser.html' title='Sem você não pode ser'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Skq6LrztKDI/AAAAAAAACYg/9g5-ZCRDd7s/s72-c/marta.glinska4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-9163627197723115375</id><published>2009-06-29T20:42:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T20:45:24.820-03:00</updated><title type='text'>A dor do fim</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SklRuZGGTCI/AAAAAAAACYA/moLKFXnqiqs/s1600-h/2-dor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 223px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SklRuZGGTCI/AAAAAAAACYA/moLKFXnqiqs/s320/2-dor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352899489558842402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="conteudo_11_cinza"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ainda que soubéssemos que inícios existem&lt;br /&gt;Precedendo finais&lt;br /&gt;Não poderíamos imaginar&lt;br /&gt;Que doesse tanto assim&lt;br /&gt;Dizer: Acabou&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Erramos tanto em nossos desejos&lt;br /&gt;Resignamo-nos diante dos erros&lt;br /&gt;Deixamos para depois&lt;br /&gt;Até que a hora chegou&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Não precisamos entender ou explicar nada&lt;br /&gt;Não precisamos mentir ou revelar&lt;br /&gt;Fizemos parte, nos entregamos&lt;br /&gt;Andamos até os pés puderam alcançar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Restam agora lembranças e agradecimentos&lt;br /&gt;E as mágoas&lt;br /&gt;Estas desapareceram no tempo&lt;br /&gt;Para nunca mais voltar&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Seja feliz querido&lt;br /&gt;Por favor, seja feliz&lt;br /&gt;Veja beleza na tristeza&lt;br /&gt;Por favor, seja feliz&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tens lugar eterno na minha memória&lt;br /&gt;Tens meu respeito e meu carinho&lt;br /&gt;Saíste do meu presente&lt;br /&gt;Para fazer parte uma história&lt;br /&gt;Onde nunca ficarás sozinho.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(15.10.2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-9163627197723115375?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/9163627197723115375/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=9163627197723115375&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/9163627197723115375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/9163627197723115375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/06/dor-do-fim.html' title='A dor do fim'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SklRuZGGTCI/AAAAAAAACYA/moLKFXnqiqs/s72-c/2-dor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-594520937124737615</id><published>2009-06-28T21:16:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T21:18:58.539-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Conquista</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SkgISVBObZI/AAAAAAAACX4/4GYvqM8rMH4/s1600-h/carinho.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SkgISVBObZI/AAAAAAAACX4/4GYvqM8rMH4/s320/carinho.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352537268102786450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="conteudo_11_cinza"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Faz este mundo sentido&lt;br /&gt;E redime-se de todo sofrimento que me causou&lt;br /&gt;Quando lembro-me dos teus olhos sinceros&lt;br /&gt;E dos lábios que um dia esta boca beijou&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As canções, hoje cheias de sentido&lt;br /&gt;Lacrimejam meus olhares perdidos&lt;br /&gt;A recordar cada momento que se foi&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sigo tecendo realidades onde insisto&lt;br /&gt;Em sonhos bonitos e eternos&lt;br /&gt;Dos quais nunca precise acordar&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Amigo...&lt;br /&gt;És um amigo verdadeiro e presente&lt;br /&gt;Amante...&lt;br /&gt;Amaste-me de forma que quizera eu novamente&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tens-me sem precisar pedir&lt;br /&gt;És meu em um desejo forte e profundo&lt;br /&gt;Existimos e persistimos na força deste querer&lt;br /&gt;Entregues a este amor&lt;br /&gt;Como noites que se entregam ao amanhecer.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(07.10.2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-594520937124737615?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/594520937124737615/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=594520937124737615&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/594520937124737615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/594520937124737615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/06/conquista.html' title='Conquista'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SkgISVBObZI/AAAAAAAACX4/4GYvqM8rMH4/s72-c/carinho.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-6968811269635644062</id><published>2009-06-27T20:59:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T21:01:52.945-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Dádiva singular de um afeto verdadeiro</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Skayy5FNWjI/AAAAAAAACXo/sjIZ4UKz-GY/s1600-h/receita%2520de%2520amor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Skayy5FNWjI/AAAAAAAACXo/sjIZ4UKz-GY/s320/receita%2520de%2520amor.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352161794562284082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="conteudo_11_cinza"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Pobres pessoas, perdidas no mundo&lt;br /&gt;Cansadas e desiludidas pelo engano&lt;br /&gt;Daqueles que brincam com a maior força que existe&lt;br /&gt;A pureza que se demonstra no amor&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Não sabem o valor de um olhar apaixonado&lt;br /&gt;Nem mesmo a importância de estar acompanhado&lt;br /&gt;De um sentimento infinito e transformador&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Essa inquietude muitas vezes ilude&lt;br /&gt;Mas essa paz&lt;br /&gt;Só o que é verdadeiro traz&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Entender o quanto dói a saudade&lt;br /&gt;E querer prazer de verdade&lt;br /&gt;Sonhar esperando realizar&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tu és o maior presente&lt;br /&gt;Um tesouro ao acaso encontrado&lt;br /&gt;Obra de arte cuidadosamente imaginada&lt;br /&gt;Perfeição e realização&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Meu futuro se encontra no teu&lt;br /&gt;Seu sorriso facilita e incita o meu&lt;br /&gt;Sua vida é por si motivo de comemoração&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Eu te amo&lt;br /&gt;Não poderia dizer o contrário&lt;br /&gt;Meu corpo todo fala&lt;br /&gt;Com a voz da minha emoção&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Vida minha, neste teu aniversário&lt;br /&gt;Aceite como presente&lt;br /&gt;A certeza de que nada é em vão&lt;br /&gt;Desde agora e para sempre&lt;br /&gt;Pertence a ti, meu amor, meu coração.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(24.09.2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-6968811269635644062?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/6968811269635644062/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=6968811269635644062&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/6968811269635644062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/6968811269635644062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/06/dadiva-singular-de-um-afeto-verdadeiro.html' title='Dádiva singular de um afeto verdadeiro'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Skayy5FNWjI/AAAAAAAACXo/sjIZ4UKz-GY/s72-c/receita%2520de%2520amor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-5822390438701309079</id><published>2009-06-26T13:34:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T13:36:52.610-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Lições de uma decepção anunciada</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SkT4zEnrelI/AAAAAAAACXg/_1CxLz4kz4w/s1600-h/UG3iTFH6Jw15Q8ZfUkPr.htm"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SkT4zEnrelI/AAAAAAAACXg/_1CxLz4kz4w/s320/UG3iTFH6Jw15Q8ZfUkPr.htm" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351675813520177746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="conteudo_11_cinza"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Lições de uma decepção anunciada&lt;br /&gt;Coragem que vem de um medo já vencido&lt;br /&gt;Superação que ensina e faz doer&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Assim nos encontramos diante de uma vida insegura&lt;br /&gt;Diante da ansiedade pelo que está por vir&lt;br /&gt;Mas que nunca vem&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Será esse nosso destino?&lt;br /&gt;Ou pior&lt;br /&gt;Já não podemos culpar o acaso?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Será que suportaremos&lt;br /&gt;Viver de esperanças semi-mortas&lt;br /&gt;De desejos desacreditados&lt;br /&gt;Viver em vão?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Não. Já não posso ser assim.&lt;br /&gt;Não quero entregar meus sonhos por inteiro&lt;br /&gt;Não quero acabar-me em exageros&lt;br /&gt;Muito menos viver por viver&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Quero sorrisos longos acompanhados de abraços&lt;br /&gt;Vitórias que me façam esquecer os fracassos&lt;br /&gt;Amizades verdadeiras e sem fim&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;De que adianta renegar as coisas simples&lt;br /&gt;Olhar pra frente, esquecendo-se de quem está do seu lado&lt;br /&gt;Pensar na vida somente no momento da morte?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Prefiro ter fé a ter sorte&lt;br /&gt;Prefiro amar a ser forte&lt;br /&gt;Prefiro participar a vencer&lt;br /&gt;Prefiro ser a ter.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(21.09.2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-5822390438701309079?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/5822390438701309079/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=5822390438701309079&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/5822390438701309079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/5822390438701309079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/06/licoes-de-uma-decepcao-anunciada.html' title='Lições de uma decepção anunciada'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SkT4zEnrelI/AAAAAAAACXg/_1CxLz4kz4w/s72-c/UG3iTFH6Jw15Q8ZfUkPr.htm' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-1021349013714019380</id><published>2009-06-20T13:40:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T13:41:52.763-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Poeminha de um amor apaixonado</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sj0RGr3T-OI/AAAAAAAAB9A/XbbWuoBvnRw/s1600-h/amor+apaixonado.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 251px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sj0RGr3T-OI/AAAAAAAAB9A/XbbWuoBvnRw/s320/amor+apaixonado.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349450738937624802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;São as lembranças&lt;br /&gt;O destino de toda felicidade&lt;br /&gt;São estas  mesmas lembranças&lt;br /&gt;O alimento de toda saudade&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;São olhares e beijos&lt;br /&gt;Que saem da mente para tocar o coração&lt;br /&gt;São momentos eternos&lt;br /&gt;Que sobrevivem alimentando toda esta ilusão&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Suas palavras valem mais que diamantes&lt;br /&gt;Seus caminhos incertos&lt;br /&gt;Combinam perfeitamente&lt;br /&gt;Com o meu caminho errante&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;E como sempre, você revive&lt;br /&gt;Numa rua, numa imagem, numa canção&lt;br /&gt;A sua ausência se compensa&lt;br /&gt;No tomar de toda minha emoção&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tu és vida, felicidade anunciada&lt;br /&gt;Doçura, verdade, sinceridade que sempre quis&lt;br /&gt;E ser tua namorada é algo de tão grande valor&lt;br /&gt;Que palavra nenhuma no mundo diz.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(17.09.2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-1021349013714019380?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/1021349013714019380/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=1021349013714019380&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1021349013714019380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1021349013714019380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/06/poeminha-de-um-amor-apaixonado.html' title='Poeminha de um amor apaixonado'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sj0RGr3T-OI/AAAAAAAAB9A/XbbWuoBvnRw/s72-c/amor+apaixonado.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-8582960292329513589</id><published>2009-06-14T01:11:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T01:19:36.056-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Saudade</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SjR6QYdox_I/AAAAAAAAB8k/x7sTC90jS5Y/s1600-h/saudade_by_Romeo_Tango.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 234px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SjR6QYdox_I/AAAAAAAAB8k/x7sTC90jS5Y/s320/saudade_by_Romeo_Tango.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347033079458875378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Como me estremece perceber&lt;br /&gt;Que lhe entreguei por inteiro&lt;br /&gt;Sem exagero, minha alma e minha paz&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;À espera de um quê em que possa achar significado&lt;br /&gt;Sonhando com beijos do homem amado&lt;br /&gt;Querendo a simplicidade que se configura numa luxuosa presença&lt;br /&gt;Intensa, eterna&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Fujo e me escondo da dor e do desespero&lt;br /&gt;Que se impõe e sobrepõe meus dias, meus sorrisos&lt;br /&gt;E encontro sentido no esquecimento&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Prefiro não recordar que meus olhos não lhe veem&lt;br /&gt;E quero esquecer como é triste acordar&lt;br /&gt;Sem o afago que se expunha em teu olhar&lt;br /&gt;O meu olhar...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sua ausência obrigou-me a um reencontro&lt;br /&gt;Constante e constantemente evitado&lt;br /&gt;Sufocante, pleno em sua consternação&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Como presente, deixaste um sonho&lt;br /&gt;Onde existo além da verdade&lt;br /&gt;Onde te amo, onde permaneces célebre e intocável&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Apeteço o viver desta angústia&lt;br /&gt;E assim se intensifica a dor de um sentimento enclausurado&lt;br /&gt;Aprendendo, ainda que sem querer&lt;br /&gt;Tolerar impossibilidades impostas&lt;br /&gt;Ocultando uma saudade exposta&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Que se eternize nosso afeto exagerado&lt;br /&gt;Que não se explique a força que nos une&lt;br /&gt;Que não se estenda a dor que nos destrói&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A certeza do ar que tu expiras, me inspira&lt;br /&gt;O que está por vir, fortalece e probabiliza&lt;br /&gt;A felicidade&lt;br /&gt;Esta que existe e insiste&lt;br /&gt;No teu olhar de verdade.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(31.08.2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-8582960292329513589?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/8582960292329513589/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=8582960292329513589&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/8582960292329513589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/8582960292329513589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/06/saudade.html' title='Saudade'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SjR6QYdox_I/AAAAAAAAB8k/x7sTC90jS5Y/s72-c/saudade_by_Romeo_Tango.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-8424864978432116695</id><published>2009-06-13T15:22:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T15:25:10.879-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Desassossego</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SjPunBH4pCI/AAAAAAAAB8E/bqrsLhmC1JE/s1600-h/distancia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SjPunBH4pCI/AAAAAAAAB8E/bqrsLhmC1JE/s320/distancia.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346879536702727202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Já podes abrir as mãos para que eu te entregue o mundo&lt;br /&gt;Assim como num segundo ganhaste minha paz&lt;br /&gt;Minha razão, meu trato, meu coração&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ando perdida neste desassossego que deixaste de herança&lt;br /&gt;Uma esperança cruel e devassa&lt;br /&gt;Escassa num desejo enorme e insensato&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Adentrou como um novato na sala de estar do meu viver&lt;br /&gt;Tomou de atrevido toda vontade do meu querer&lt;br /&gt;E me deixou assim,&lt;br /&gt;Somente, triste e só.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Obrigou-me a usar razão para viver sem motivo&lt;br /&gt;Ensinou-me como é grande o vazio com o qual convivo&lt;br /&gt;Me fez querer amar por amar, e me entregar&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Já não sei te espero ou...&lt;br /&gt;Te espero.&lt;br /&gt;Já não sei um segundo sem você&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sou apenas pensamentos afundados em toques e abraços&lt;br /&gt;Sou apenas felicidade expressa em beijos e desejos&lt;br /&gt;Sou apenas aquilo que imagino com você.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(28.08.2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-8424864978432116695?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/8424864978432116695/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=8424864978432116695&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/8424864978432116695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/8424864978432116695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/06/desassossego.html' title='Desassossego'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SjPunBH4pCI/AAAAAAAAB8E/bqrsLhmC1JE/s72-c/distancia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-2587777741730551489</id><published>2009-06-12T23:08:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T23:22:30.293-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Felicidade inesperada</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SjMNC7JieAI/AAAAAAAAB78/cbGe9jUujWw/s1600-h/blog+post+-+casal+um+c%C3%B3lo+outro+%C3%A1+chuva+a+sorrir.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SjMNC7JieAI/AAAAAAAAB78/cbGe9jUujWw/s320/blog+post+-+casal+um+c%C3%B3lo+outro+%C3%A1+chuva+a+sorrir.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346631526507509762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="conteudo_11_cinza"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Houve um momento em que não havia sentimento&lt;br /&gt;Tudo era a superfície de uma ilusão&lt;br /&gt;E como eu, fugindo da superficialidade&lt;br /&gt;Surgiu uma amizade, cheia de encanto, de emoção&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Você é simples assim&lt;br /&gt;Complicado assim&lt;br /&gt;Perfeito assim&lt;br /&gt;E como não poderia deixar de ser, faz parte de mim&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Você é vento na brisa inesperada&lt;br /&gt;Você é o reforço no fim da estrada&lt;br /&gt;Você é a calma que eu tanto esperava&lt;br /&gt;Você é um início no meio do fim&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;E eu te quero em parte, de um todo&lt;br /&gt;E ver alegria estampada em seu rosto&lt;br /&gt;Eu quero felicidade surgindo assim&lt;br /&gt;De um sentimento infinito existente em mim.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(23.07.2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-2587777741730551489?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/2587777741730551489/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=2587777741730551489&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/2587777741730551489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/2587777741730551489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/06/felicidade-inesperada.html' title='Felicidade inesperada'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SjMNC7JieAI/AAAAAAAAB78/cbGe9jUujWw/s72-c/blog+post+-+casal+um+c%C3%B3lo+outro+%C3%A1+chuva+a+sorrir.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-340066691296481382</id><published>2009-06-12T01:25:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T01:30:13.272-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Florescer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SjHZrYpzYdI/AAAAAAAAB7U/UZ1X2oC-oDc/s1600-h/arvore-verrmelha.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SjHZrYpzYdI/AAAAAAAAB7U/UZ1X2oC-oDc/s320/arvore-verrmelha.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346293572040876498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nasci e cresci planta&lt;br /&gt;Robusta, imponente, grandiosa, crescente&lt;br /&gt;Cada vez maior, mais forte&lt;br /&gt;Mas sem sair do lugar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E meus galhos se espalharam por muitas direções&lt;br /&gt;Com raízes profundas, alimentadas por intenções&lt;br /&gt;Ainda que não, como braços e pernas&lt;br /&gt;Pudessem sentir, tocar. Sair do lugar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tentaram me matar friamente&lt;br /&gt;Me podaram, arrancaram&lt;br /&gt;Espalharam minhas sementes&lt;br /&gt;E tudo me causou muito pavor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me envenenaram por algo chamado desejo&lt;br /&gt;Me alimentaram com fé e esperança&lt;br /&gt;E ensinaram-me que é preciso perder&lt;br /&gt;Para ganhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora quero aquilo que não imaginava merecer&lt;br /&gt;Enfrento dores que preferi esquecer&lt;br /&gt;E sonho sem ter que acordar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plantaram-me novamente e...&lt;br /&gt;(ó Deus) estou crescendo&lt;br /&gt;Nesse novo lugar vejo luz e felicidade&lt;br /&gt;E nascem flores, das feridas&lt;br /&gt;(ó Deus) Estava morrendo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Fevereiro de 2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-340066691296481382?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/340066691296481382/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=340066691296481382&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/340066691296481382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/340066691296481382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/06/florescer.html' title='Florescer'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SjHZrYpzYdI/AAAAAAAAB7U/UZ1X2oC-oDc/s72-c/arvore-verrmelha.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-597498766963496803</id><published>2009-06-11T17:15:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T17:18:52.383-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Desacredito</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SjFmCCZxqTI/AAAAAAAAB7M/yOPGWvhtkao/s1600-h/paixaodesilusao.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 292px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SjFmCCZxqTI/AAAAAAAAB7M/yOPGWvhtkao/s320/paixaodesilusao.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346166417856244018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já não me encanto com doces palavras&lt;br /&gt;Palavras que outrora me fizeram amarga&lt;br /&gt;Que ensinaram o sofrer a um ingênuo coração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Houve um tempo em que ainda sorria e amava&lt;br /&gt;Mas tudo aquilo que me fizera feliz um dia&lt;br /&gt;Hoje alimenta toda dor e desilusão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como tentei enxergar esse amor infinito&lt;br /&gt;Que me disseram simples, eterno, bonito&lt;br /&gt;Como quis em prática ser amada&lt;br /&gt;Além da simples esposa, amante, namorada&lt;br /&gt;Como desejei um amor sem convenções...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ainda me questiono se ele existe&lt;br /&gt;E como existe? Onde está?&lt;br /&gt;Ainda renego que este seja mera recompensa&lt;br /&gt;De quem espera, não cansa, de quem insiste&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haverá em algum lugar&lt;br /&gt;Alguém que compartilhe tais verdades&lt;br /&gt;Onde espontâneo é verdadeiro&lt;br /&gt;Onde perfeito é passageiro&lt;br /&gt;Onde tempo é aprendizado&lt;br /&gt;E deixe de ser condição ao amor idealizado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já vejo antes de um início, os meus finais&lt;br /&gt;Percebo cada sorriso como lágrimas a mais&lt;br /&gt;São traumas intrínsecos e impossíveis de serem renegados&lt;br /&gt;São parte de mim, dos erros, do passado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Janeiro de 2008)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-597498766963496803?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/597498766963496803/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=597498766963496803&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/597498766963496803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/597498766963496803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/06/desacredito.html' title='Desacredito'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SjFmCCZxqTI/AAAAAAAAB7M/yOPGWvhtkao/s72-c/paixaodesilusao.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-1685491854905888539</id><published>2009-06-09T00:34:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T17:20:59.414-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Nosce te ipsum</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Si3ZWpydtdI/AAAAAAAAB7E/iqengISslgs/s1600-h/carrieanneespelho.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Si3ZWpydtdI/AAAAAAAAB7E/iqengISslgs/s320/carrieanneespelho.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345167315956512210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;(... Entoe amor, entoe na entonação o que ainda há nessa inexistência&lt;br /&gt;Encante amor, encante e cante a felicidade que insiste nesse desejo que há em mim...) &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A pensar tais pensamentos&lt;br /&gt;Ela andava só e somente&lt;br /&gt;Atenta aos anseios que não se expunham em sonhos&lt;br /&gt;E ele somente andava&lt;br /&gt;Só, sozinho. Ausente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dela surgiam planos&lt;br /&gt;Da vontade da certeza que seu lugar não era&lt;br /&gt;Ali&lt;br /&gt;Inventando amores ela podia esquecer&lt;br /&gt;Que lhe cabia o dever de suportar&lt;br /&gt;Saber que não havia amor&lt;br /&gt;Amor que não tivera para saber&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas ela amava&lt;br /&gt;Ou ao menos assim o pensava&lt;br /&gt;Estar loucamente apaixonada por um amor&lt;br /&gt;Remédio capaz de curar e ferir&lt;br /&gt;Espera do que estará sempre por vir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naquela última vez em que ele morreu&lt;br /&gt;Lenta e penosamente eu também morri&lt;br /&gt;Ele vivia enquanto eu sofria&lt;br /&gt;E eu sobrevivia de forma que me esqueci&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ela já não chora nem reclama sofrimento&lt;br /&gt;Deixou soltas as respostas, para que regressem com o tempo&lt;br /&gt;Ela sorri enquanto adoece e engorda&lt;br /&gt;É sua forma de suportar em vida a vida lá fora&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ela escolheu o desamor como sua verdade&lt;br /&gt;E quanto a isso ser ou não verdade&lt;br /&gt;Não há uma única maneira de se comprovar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ela é apenas uma menina, o erro, uma solução&lt;br /&gt;Aquela que já não pensa na vida&lt;br /&gt;Mas que em vida entoa, em cântico, um encantamento&lt;br /&gt;Deveras saiba não haver para isto motivo ou razão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Janeiro de 2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-1685491854905888539?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/1685491854905888539/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=1685491854905888539&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1685491854905888539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1685491854905888539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/06/nosce-te-ipsum.html' title='Nosce te ipsum'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Si3ZWpydtdI/AAAAAAAAB7E/iqengISslgs/s72-c/carrieanneespelho.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-3214272987247222577</id><published>2009-06-07T11:45:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T11:54:05.334-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Conclusão</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SivUffm9p_I/AAAAAAAAB60/88IABbG_H0s/s1600-h/fim-de-semana-vermelhopatrick-parenteau.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 206px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SivUffm9p_I/AAAAAAAAB60/88IABbG_H0s/s320/fim-de-semana-vermelhopatrick-parenteau.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344599020331182066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Já posso ver o enterro, as flores&lt;br /&gt;Já posso ver o fim dos sonhos, que tive&lt;br /&gt;Permeados de inseguranças e dores&lt;br /&gt;Finalizando momentos que nunca existiram&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Já imagino a satisfação dos inimigos&lt;br /&gt;Que entre o sofrimento amigo&lt;br /&gt;Do rosto foge&lt;br /&gt;Pra na alma se refugiar&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Vejo poesias colorindo dias&lt;br /&gt;Dos amantes&lt;br /&gt;Tão verdadeiros&lt;br /&gt;Ao passo que errantes&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;E vejo apenas palavras&lt;br /&gt;De páginas arrancadas&lt;br /&gt;Dessa vida que tive&lt;br /&gt;E que pouco vivi&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Há um desespero por vida, em vida&lt;br /&gt;Há uma vontade incessante de amar&lt;br /&gt;E de estar com quem se quer&lt;br /&gt;Onde este estiver&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mas o mundo é tão grande&lt;br /&gt;Que me perco&lt;br /&gt;As atividades são tantas&lt;br /&gt;Que me canso&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Essa falta de sentimento é constante&lt;br /&gt;E o desejo se torna opção errante&lt;br /&gt;E esse fim que enxergo como distante&lt;br /&gt;Inicia cada vez que esqueço de mim.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(05.04.2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-3214272987247222577?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/3214272987247222577/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=3214272987247222577&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/3214272987247222577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/3214272987247222577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/06/conclusao.html' title='Conclusão'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SivUffm9p_I/AAAAAAAAB60/88IABbG_H0s/s72-c/fim-de-semana-vermelhopatrick-parenteau.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-4282995840983887336</id><published>2009-06-06T00:07:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-06T00:21:58.503-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Desejo nada inocente</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SingfRKZHQI/AAAAAAAAB6U/na67H-VDik8/s1600-h/SWPlace.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SingfRKZHQI/AAAAAAAAB6U/na67H-VDik8/s320/SWPlace.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344049260639362306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu cantaria mil canções&lt;br /&gt;De amor&lt;br /&gt;Pra você&lt;br /&gt;Com você&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu viveria e veria sem nenhum esforço&lt;br /&gt;Seu olhar&lt;br /&gt;O falar&lt;br /&gt;O seu jeito de ser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu andaria seus caminhos&lt;br /&gt;Nunca te deixaria&lt;br /&gt;Só, assim&lt;br /&gt;Sozinho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esse é o meu jeito de te provocar&lt;br /&gt;De te mostrar&lt;br /&gt;Como eu estou&lt;br /&gt;E que eu estou aqui&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que eu mais quero é te provar&lt;br /&gt;E te provar&lt;br /&gt;O que eu não consigo&lt;br /&gt;O resistir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(14.03.2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-4282995840983887336?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/4282995840983887336/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=4282995840983887336&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/4282995840983887336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/4282995840983887336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/06/desejo-nada-inocente.html' title='Desejo nada inocente'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SingfRKZHQI/AAAAAAAAB6U/na67H-VDik8/s72-c/SWPlace.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-6287546619691352530</id><published>2009-06-04T23:39:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T23:56:04.010-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Quando nasce o amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SiiJNkObpPI/AAAAAAAAB6E/z8JhV2okLVE/s1600-h/casal_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SiiJNkObpPI/AAAAAAAAB6E/z8JhV2okLVE/s320/casal_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343671824030606578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A alma fica mais colorida&lt;br /&gt;Quando há esperança de, nesta vida&lt;br /&gt;O amor da vida encontrar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É o combustível do sonho&lt;br /&gt;A alegria de um rosto tristonho&lt;br /&gt;O amparo em um mundo medonho&lt;br /&gt;É assim o desejo de amar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A beleza está na infinitude&lt;br /&gt;Nas possibilidades&lt;br /&gt;Algo que existe e transcende&lt;br /&gt;Os desejos, as vontades&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É o amor abrindo caminhos&lt;br /&gt;É o rancor se transformando em carinho&lt;br /&gt;É o transpassar de uma mera paixão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(05.03.2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-6287546619691352530?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/6287546619691352530/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=6287546619691352530&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/6287546619691352530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/6287546619691352530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/06/quando-nasce-o-amor.html' title='Quando nasce o amor'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SiiJNkObpPI/AAAAAAAAB6E/z8JhV2okLVE/s72-c/casal_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-8488967521145376162</id><published>2009-06-03T23:28:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T23:30:53.574-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Celebração</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SicxoMQvf_I/AAAAAAAAB5o/aaqIrllSQgk/s1600-h/felicidade.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SicxoMQvf_I/AAAAAAAAB5o/aaqIrllSQgk/s320/felicidade.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343294049454358514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="conteudo_11_cinza"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Celebremos a vida e as possibilidades&lt;br /&gt;Celebremos a força de vontade&lt;br /&gt;Capaz de mudar e engrandecer&lt;br /&gt;As diversas realidades&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Celebremos a ingenuidade da criança&lt;br /&gt;Que nos faz acreditar&lt;br /&gt;Ter esperança&lt;br /&gt;Que o mundo ainda tem jeito&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Celebremos a inteligência e a beleza&lt;br /&gt;Celebremos a sinceridade e a pureza&lt;br /&gt;São elas que afirmam nossa certeza&lt;br /&gt;Do amor que Ele nos tem&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Celebremos cada instante, cada segundo&lt;br /&gt;Celebremos tudo que há de bom no mundo&lt;br /&gt;Que felicidade não é pra quem pode&lt;br /&gt;É pra quem quer e deseja profundo&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Celebremos o amor e a amizade&lt;br /&gt;Celebremos o otimismo e a fidelidade&lt;br /&gt;O desejar bem, só faz bem&lt;br /&gt;E essa é a mais pura verdade.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(13.02.2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-8488967521145376162?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/8488967521145376162/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=8488967521145376162&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/8488967521145376162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/8488967521145376162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/06/celebracao.html' title='Celebração'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SicxoMQvf_I/AAAAAAAAB5o/aaqIrllSQgk/s72-c/felicidade.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-4734113326438443674</id><published>2009-06-02T23:09:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T23:12:16.192-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sem importância</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SiXbrmNDLjI/AAAAAAAAB5g/bw9nIVh3XSo/s1600-h/f3850171yy2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 277px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SiXbrmNDLjI/AAAAAAAAB5g/bw9nIVh3XSo/s320/f3850171yy2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342918074981101106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="conteudo_11_cinza"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Apesar de longe, em um lugar distante&lt;br /&gt;Em nem um só instante&lt;br /&gt;As memórias de um tempo bom&lt;br /&gt;O tempo não apagou&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Apesar de o coração viver cheio de medo&lt;br /&gt;Sem nenhum receio&lt;br /&gt;Vi nascer bons sentimentos&lt;br /&gt;Um amor de família, que nem a raiva superou&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A vida me deu uma rasteira&lt;br /&gt;Mas como uma besteira&lt;br /&gt;Todos esqueceram minha dor&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;E hoje, nas palavras me entrego&lt;br /&gt;Vivo sofrendo, não nego&lt;br /&gt;Pois minha amargura nasceu&lt;br /&gt;Da minha falta de amor.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(10.02.2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-4734113326438443674?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/4734113326438443674/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=4734113326438443674&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/4734113326438443674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/4734113326438443674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/06/sem-importancia.html' title='Sem importância'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SiXbrmNDLjI/AAAAAAAAB5g/bw9nIVh3XSo/s72-c/f3850171yy2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-1028884860844892015</id><published>2009-06-01T23:16:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T23:42:25.350-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Da alma humana</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SiSRh8frQnI/AAAAAAAAB5A/AJbtIVzDVbw/s1600-h/pensativa-de-joel-almeida.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SiSRh8frQnI/AAAAAAAAB5A/AJbtIVzDVbw/s320/pensativa-de-joel-almeida.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342555070328947314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Uma fartura de desencanto invade a alma humana&lt;br /&gt;Como uma voz que grita insana&lt;br /&gt;Qual a razão do meu viver?&lt;br /&gt;Não há escolha, é tudo incerto.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A liberdade se torna um sonho&lt;br /&gt;Perigoso e medonho&lt;br /&gt;Que possibilita o erro distante&lt;br /&gt;E não há escolha, é tudo incerto.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Cultivemos a nossa humanidade&lt;br /&gt;Não vamos nos destruir em enganos&lt;br /&gt;Se não houver fé, atitude, esperança&lt;br /&gt;Não passaremos de homens... Humanos.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;O esquecimento dos fatos&lt;br /&gt;A encoberta dos atos&lt;br /&gt;A criação de uma história.&lt;br /&gt;É somente nisso que se apoia&lt;br /&gt;Toda a Nossa glória&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;E quem verá além da imagem?&lt;br /&gt;Quem acreditará no que está encoberto?&lt;br /&gt;Quem pensará no que está além?&lt;br /&gt;Os olhos – só – veem o que está perto.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(09.02.2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-1028884860844892015?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/1028884860844892015/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=1028884860844892015&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1028884860844892015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1028884860844892015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/06/da-alma-humana.html' title='Da alma humana'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SiSRh8frQnI/AAAAAAAAB5A/AJbtIVzDVbw/s72-c/pensativa-de-joel-almeida.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-1561455184770930100</id><published>2009-05-31T09:38:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T09:51:14.714-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Tua essência</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SiJ9IKB8mDI/AAAAAAAAB44/_7sD9wU47Q0/s1600-h/Mak_Up_028.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SiJ9IKB8mDI/AAAAAAAAB44/_7sD9wU47Q0/s320/Mak_Up_028.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341969687099775026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="conteudo_11_cinza"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Se pedisse a Deus:&lt;br /&gt;Pai, mostre-me tua essência&lt;br /&gt;Ele diria a mim:&lt;br /&gt;Pequena filha, ela está na experiência.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Se perguntasse ao Pai:&lt;br /&gt;O que há de melhor na juventude?&lt;br /&gt;Ele me diria:&lt;br /&gt;Pensar que o simples viver é a maior virtude.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Se implorasse a Ele:&lt;br /&gt;Não deixe nunca minha alegria acabar!&lt;br /&gt;Ele me diria apenas:&lt;br /&gt;Te enchi de pessoas para amar.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Então, deixei que repousasse em mim o frescor da sabedoria&lt;br /&gt;Por que passar a vida em busca de felicidade&lt;br /&gt;Se, desde sempre,&lt;br /&gt;Ele me dera tudo que eu queria?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dessa forma sigo a vida&lt;br /&gt;Suportando as quedas e a dor&lt;br /&gt;Pois carrego no peito as maiores forças do mundo&lt;br /&gt;A amizade, o amor.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(06.02.2009)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Poema dedicado a uma pessoa muito especial que conheço pela internet e ao qual dei o título de "meu avô adotivo": Miro.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-1561455184770930100?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/1561455184770930100/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=1561455184770930100&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1561455184770930100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1561455184770930100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/tua-essencia.html' title='Tua essência'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SiJ9IKB8mDI/AAAAAAAAB44/_7sD9wU47Q0/s72-c/Mak_Up_028.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-696488982394709036</id><published>2009-05-30T22:37:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T22:46:16.910-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Entre retratos e canções</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SiHhWME-AyI/AAAAAAAAB4o/x6ctPLiN8M4/s1600-h/1196122968_f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SiHhWME-AyI/AAAAAAAAB4o/x6ctPLiN8M4/s320/1196122968_f.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341798404353557282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="conteudo_11_cinza"&gt;&lt;p&gt;Entre retratos e canções&lt;br /&gt;Me pego lamentando decepções&lt;br /&gt;Que outrora me fizeram rir&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Foi de tanto esperar que pudesses vir&lt;br /&gt;Que comecei a sentir o quanto dói&lt;br /&gt;Viver de recordações&lt;br /&gt;Renegar as emoções&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Te guardo em um lugar nessa eterna inexistência&lt;br /&gt;[o] Que é viver&lt;br /&gt;E quanto mais procuro&lt;br /&gt;Menos entendo o que é ser, ter&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Se dissesse que te amo&lt;br /&gt;Estaria pecando por insistência&lt;br /&gt;Não poderia simplificar a razão de uma vida&lt;br /&gt;Em definições cheias de deficiência&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Procuro pensar que há algo maior&lt;br /&gt;Que protege os que amam&lt;br /&gt;Das ciladas que armam para si&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Que se pode acreditar que até o pior&lt;br /&gt;Se torna melhor&lt;br /&gt;Quando há amor para seguir.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(02.02.2008)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-696488982394709036?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/696488982394709036/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=696488982394709036&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/696488982394709036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/696488982394709036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/entre-retratos-e-cancoes.html' title='Entre retratos e canções'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SiHhWME-AyI/AAAAAAAAB4o/x6ctPLiN8M4/s72-c/1196122968_f.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-8310934303862038209</id><published>2009-05-25T22:14:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T22:20:02.154-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ambiguidade</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShtDsD7PyzI/AAAAAAAAB4A/CGvXtlvizB0/s1600-h/ins%C3%B4nia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 294px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShtDsD7PyzI/AAAAAAAAB4A/CGvXtlvizB0/s320/ins%C3%B4nia.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339936207424965426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Esta noite não consegui dormir&lt;br /&gt;Até que sua presença tocou o meu imaginário&lt;br /&gt;Meu pensamento falho&lt;br /&gt;Ao passo que intenso&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tenho você como uma obsessão inconsciente&lt;br /&gt;Que nesta fria mente&lt;br /&gt;Tem errado, ao contrário&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;De tudo que tenho quisto&lt;br /&gt;Sua presença é o que tenho mais desejado&lt;br /&gt;De todos os devaneios que tive&lt;br /&gt;Você é o mais inesperado&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;E eu preciso saber que sim&lt;br /&gt;Que você quer acertar&lt;br /&gt;Errando comigo&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Preciso ter certeza&lt;br /&gt;Antes que a incerteza te faça apenas&lt;br /&gt;Meu amigo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(02.12.2007)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-8310934303862038209?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/8310934303862038209/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=8310934303862038209&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/8310934303862038209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/8310934303862038209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/ambiguidade.html' title='Ambiguidade'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShtDsD7PyzI/AAAAAAAAB4A/CGvXtlvizB0/s72-c/ins%C3%B4nia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-3686523542411144910</id><published>2009-05-24T23:21:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T23:24:07.943-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Quem me dera</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShoA9Yjn1WI/AAAAAAAAB34/LqZR7pSfyIY/s1600-h/Liberdade.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 263px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShoA9Yjn1WI/AAAAAAAAB34/LqZR7pSfyIY/s320/Liberdade.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339581362765026658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Quem me dera ouvir de alguém a voz humana&lt;br /&gt;Voz que fala a verdade&lt;br /&gt;Verdade que invade, destrói, incita&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Quem me dera ouvir de alguém um erro&lt;br /&gt;Uma sujeira, uma besteira, uma malandragem&lt;br /&gt;Alguém, que num ato de coragem deixasse escorrer toda a mentira&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Quem me dera&lt;br /&gt;Ah, que me dera&lt;br /&gt;Que existisse humanidade na voz humana&lt;br /&gt;E que a perfeição não passasse de um sonho&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Quem me dera que alguém se arriscasse&lt;br /&gt;Desse a cara pra bater&lt;br /&gt;Apanhasse&lt;br /&gt;E que nem assim, deixasse de ser feliz&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Quem me dera viver num mundo de imperfeitos&lt;br /&gt;Que sem dor nem trejeitos&lt;br /&gt;Se deixassem ser aceitos&lt;br /&gt;Já que a vida tem um fim&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Quem me dera acabar com os sorrisos falsos&lt;br /&gt;Que em todos os espaços&lt;br /&gt;Enchem a vida de ilusão&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Quem me dera ter em mente&lt;br /&gt;Um ato consciente&lt;br /&gt;Que me fizesse ser humano&lt;br /&gt;Sem nenhuma condição.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(28.11.2007)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-3686523542411144910?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/3686523542411144910/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=3686523542411144910&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/3686523542411144910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/3686523542411144910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/quem-me-dera.html' title='Quem me dera'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShoA9Yjn1WI/AAAAAAAAB34/LqZR7pSfyIY/s72-c/Liberdade.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-7618354581179724078</id><published>2009-05-23T10:31:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T10:35:16.789-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Tão perto</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Shf7dobJwII/AAAAAAAAB3g/hSRvntw6KWA/s1600-h/espera2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 285px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Shf7dobJwII/AAAAAAAAB3g/hSRvntw6KWA/s320/espera2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339012369757094018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você tem um minuto&lt;br /&gt;Pra sair da minha mente&lt;br /&gt;Do meu coração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você tem exatamente um segundo&lt;br /&gt;Pra me fazer esquecer&lt;br /&gt;Toda essa emoção&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sua ida é bom senso&lt;br /&gt;Sua volta...&lt;br /&gt;Esperança, ilusão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E a culpa é sua.&lt;br /&gt;Por ser tão belo&lt;br /&gt;Tão esperto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por me fazer sentir quista&lt;br /&gt;E me deixar te sentir&lt;br /&gt;... [tão perto].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(29.10.2007)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-7618354581179724078?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/7618354581179724078/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=7618354581179724078&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/7618354581179724078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/7618354581179724078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/tao-perto.html' title='Tão perto'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Shf7dobJwII/AAAAAAAAB3g/hSRvntw6KWA/s72-c/espera2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-5446181771177341578</id><published>2009-05-21T23:23:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T23:35:30.962-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O que me resta</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShYPZvc-LnI/AAAAAAAAB3Y/IJCFwoUEvpA/s1600-h/l_grima.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 294px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShYPZvc-LnI/AAAAAAAAB3Y/IJCFwoUEvpA/s320/l_grima.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338471343203430002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E agora, o que me resta?&lt;br /&gt;Saudade, ansiedade&lt;br /&gt;Festa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E agora, pra onde vou?&lt;br /&gt;Se não há caminho&lt;br /&gt;Não há desejo&lt;br /&gt;Se não sei quem sou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu tenho um sonho&lt;br /&gt;Parte desejo, parte emoção&lt;br /&gt;Eu tenho um medo&lt;br /&gt;Que em segredo me tira a razão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E é essa vontade&lt;br /&gt;Que se torna verdade&lt;br /&gt;Que me toma, me invade&lt;br /&gt;Que me enche de solidão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(21.10.2007)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-5446181771177341578?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/5446181771177341578/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=5446181771177341578&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/5446181771177341578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/5446181771177341578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/o-que-me-resta.html' title='O que me resta'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShYPZvc-LnI/AAAAAAAAB3Y/IJCFwoUEvpA/s72-c/l_grima.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-334830241413064726</id><published>2009-05-21T23:21:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T23:22:43.960-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Segunda-feira</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShYMT2KZsyI/AAAAAAAAB3Q/IJBai8fWNpc/s1600-h/quadro1_carinho.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 252px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShYMT2KZsyI/AAAAAAAAB3Q/IJBai8fWNpc/s320/quadro1_carinho.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338467943390491426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quanta espera&lt;br /&gt;De quem quisera&lt;br /&gt;Ter, um dia&lt;br /&gt;Amor assim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amor amigo&lt;br /&gt;Amor sofrido&lt;br /&gt;Que acha bom&lt;br /&gt;O que é ruim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te dou um abraço&lt;br /&gt;Um compasso&lt;br /&gt;E do cansaço&lt;br /&gt;Faço uma canção&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te dou um cheiro&lt;br /&gt;Te dou um beijo&lt;br /&gt;Que é aconchego&lt;br /&gt;O que tanto quer&lt;br /&gt;Seu coração.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(07.10.2007)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-334830241413064726?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/334830241413064726/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=334830241413064726&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/334830241413064726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/334830241413064726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/segunda-feira.html' title='Segunda-feira'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShYMT2KZsyI/AAAAAAAAB3Q/IJBai8fWNpc/s72-c/quadro1_carinho.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-185175947470809674</id><published>2009-05-21T00:04:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T00:11:52.778-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O fim</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShTGbzi2ZeI/AAAAAAAAB3I/lmfX1BedVoc/s1600-h/Amor-+acabou.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShTGbzi2ZeI/AAAAAAAAB3I/lmfX1BedVoc/s320/Amor-+acabou.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338109639336027618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E se eu te pedir para pôr um ponto final nessa história?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;É, estou cansada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cansei da brincadeira&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Está pesado demais viver essa glória&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Insana e desvairada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Uma atitude sem “eira, nem beira”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É simples.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Chegue, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aconchegue,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E ponha o ponto final nessa história...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que não passa de uma estória.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Insuportável e fascinante&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Estória...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;(27.09.2007)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-185175947470809674?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/185175947470809674/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=185175947470809674&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/185175947470809674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/185175947470809674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/o-fim.html' title='O fim'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShTGbzi2ZeI/AAAAAAAAB3I/lmfX1BedVoc/s72-c/Amor-+acabou.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-7422428095006554705</id><published>2009-05-20T12:45:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T12:53:07.717-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Encanto</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShQnV0ih_eI/AAAAAAAAB24/UpNx5h7JUoI/s1600-h/maos-735228.bmp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 251px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShQnV0ih_eI/AAAAAAAAB24/UpNx5h7JUoI/s320/maos-735228.bmp.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337934714175094242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não é a esperança&lt;br /&gt;Que entre erros e acertos&lt;br /&gt;Nos faz assim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É o amor que vejo em seus olhos&lt;br /&gt;Que me dá sossego&lt;br /&gt;E toma conta de mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sua mão é segurança&lt;br /&gt;E me torna criança&lt;br /&gt;Para em seus braços estar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foi seu cheiro e seu jeito&lt;br /&gt;Que deram aconchego&lt;br /&gt;E fizeram renascer em meu peito&lt;br /&gt;A vontade de amar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Então me mostre o mundo&lt;br /&gt;Que em um segundo&lt;br /&gt;Lhe darei meu coração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque te encontrar me fez me reencontrar&lt;br /&gt;E deu à minha vida&lt;br /&gt;Um novo sentido&lt;br /&gt;Uma nova razão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(24.09.2007)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-7422428095006554705?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/7422428095006554705/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=7422428095006554705&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/7422428095006554705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/7422428095006554705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/encanto.html' title='Encanto'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShQnV0ih_eI/AAAAAAAAB24/UpNx5h7JUoI/s72-c/maos-735228.bmp.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-5404527932870184692</id><published>2009-05-19T08:37:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T08:39:16.436-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Guarda-chuva</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShKaPK7a2xI/AAAAAAAAB2w/mWtvQtkAUrs/s1600-h/chuva-9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShKaPK7a2xI/AAAAAAAAB2w/mWtvQtkAUrs/s320/chuva-9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337498093809752850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto andava tranquila&lt;br /&gt;E o amor não me importava&lt;br /&gt;O dia era fresco&lt;br /&gt;Uma brisa soprava&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No auge da euforia&lt;br /&gt;Tudo era belo&lt;br /&gt;O mundo pra mim  sorria&lt;br /&gt;Todos iam, todos vinham&lt;br /&gt;Um sopro quente me aquecia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas o dia foi escurecendo&lt;br /&gt;Já não tinha mais alegria&lt;br /&gt;E todos iam, ninguém vinha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E enquanto os casais se protegiam da chuva&lt;br /&gt;Debaixo do meu guarda-chuva&lt;br /&gt;Lá estava eu&lt;br /&gt;Sozinha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Postada originalmente em 15.09.2007, mas escrita em um dia qualquer do final de 2006.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-5404527932870184692?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/5404527932870184692/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=5404527932870184692&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/5404527932870184692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/5404527932870184692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/guarda-chuva.html' title='Guarda-chuva'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShKaPK7a2xI/AAAAAAAAB2w/mWtvQtkAUrs/s72-c/chuva-9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-3640967623566091073</id><published>2009-05-18T15:09:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T15:12:12.613-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Eu quero</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShGkzrxAYmI/AAAAAAAAB2o/LBU8MxGRE4Q/s1600-h/Adjustment-Disorder-Due-To-Hearing-Loss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShGkzrxAYmI/AAAAAAAAB2o/LBU8MxGRE4Q/s320/Adjustment-Disorder-Due-To-Hearing-Loss.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337228241239302754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já perdi tanta coisa&lt;br /&gt;Tanta gente&lt;br /&gt;Tanto sonho&lt;br /&gt;Tantos dias&lt;br /&gt;Tanto...&lt;br /&gt;Tanto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu perdi um pedaço de mim no caminho&lt;br /&gt;Eu caminhei presa aos trilhos&lt;br /&gt;[e por isso estou só]&lt;br /&gt;Eu perdi meu elo&lt;br /&gt;Perdi minha geração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já não tenho em quem pôr culpa&lt;br /&gt;Já cansei de chamar a atenção&lt;br /&gt;Quero um cantinho...&lt;br /&gt;Muito longe [e dentro de todos]&lt;br /&gt;Quero dividir-me&lt;br /&gt;Já estou transbordando de mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ai, que fadiga&lt;br /&gt;Ai, que falta de romance&lt;br /&gt;Ai, ai...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu quero&lt;br /&gt;E a isso se resume minha vida&lt;br /&gt;A um querer incessante.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(06.09.2007)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-3640967623566091073?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/3640967623566091073/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=3640967623566091073&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/3640967623566091073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/3640967623566091073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/eu-quero.html' title='Eu quero'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShGkzrxAYmI/AAAAAAAAB2o/LBU8MxGRE4Q/s72-c/Adjustment-Disorder-Due-To-Hearing-Loss.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-7905259784558599913</id><published>2009-05-17T23:12:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T23:30:28.397-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Amar e ser amado</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShDIGHf4mGI/AAAAAAAAB2I/K_I8sQiEAeY/s1600-h/beijo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336985565851588706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 234px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShDIGHf4mGI/AAAAAAAAB2I/K_I8sQiEAeY/s320/beijo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E se se fala de amor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Se fala de dor, de tristeza&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Se fala de solidão&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se a história é de amor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Há sempre quem conte&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Um momento de engano, de desilusão&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É que o amor é perdido&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cego, insano&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Inimigo inveterado da razão&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É que o amor desencontrado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Deixa rastros sofridos por onde passa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E permanece o vazio no coração&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ser amado é um veneno&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Faz grande o pequeno&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alimenta o ego do humilde&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Faz eufórico o sereno&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amar é crescimento&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cada dia é uma linha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Construída em sofrimento&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que ilumina a vida de quem ama&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fazendo brisa, enquanto flama&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas não há nesse mundo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Coisa mais bela que amor correspondido&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que faz feliz o sofrido&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que se opõe à ilusão&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pois nas andanças desta vida&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Trazemos abertas, feridas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pelo engano, pela paixão&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E não há sentido na caminhada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não há força imaculada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que supere o sentimento de ter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;[agora, e sempre]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Amor no coração.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;(28.08.2007)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-7905259784558599913?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/7905259784558599913/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=7905259784558599913&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/7905259784558599913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/7905259784558599913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/amar-e-ser-amado.html' title='Amar e ser amado'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/ShDIGHf4mGI/AAAAAAAAB2I/K_I8sQiEAeY/s72-c/beijo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-2778875099835413557</id><published>2009-05-17T01:27:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T01:42:07.505-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Desabafo da vontade de ser feliz</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sg-UKrh51TI/AAAAAAAAB1g/x3uTClgx5Xk/s1600-h/espera22.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336646994661856562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sg-UKrh51TI/AAAAAAAAB1g/x3uTClgx5Xk/s320/espera22.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sinto falta do novo... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Amor novo,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sorriso novo,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;De vida nova&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sinto falta do abraço...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que não senti.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do beijo ... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que não vivi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;De esperança&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sinto falta de alegria&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sinto falta de ter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Noite e dia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Momentos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Para guardar na lembrança&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sinto falta de sentir medo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E de encher-me de segredos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que agitarão a vizinhança&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sinto falta de encontrar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Em mim&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Verdade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sinto falta de ter &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No peito&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Algo mais que saudade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;(21.08.2007)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-2778875099835413557?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/2778875099835413557/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=2778875099835413557&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/2778875099835413557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/2778875099835413557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/desabafo-da-vontade-de-ser-feliz.html' title='Desabafo da vontade de ser feliz'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sg-UKrh51TI/AAAAAAAAB1g/x3uTClgx5Xk/s72-c/espera22.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-2257512268948629695</id><published>2009-05-16T12:54:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T13:08:39.387-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Não volte</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sg7ksuQxRNI/AAAAAAAAB04/wJ95Dhgt1Zk/s1600-h/espera-752420.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336454065464362194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 220px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sg7ksuQxRNI/AAAAAAAAB04/wJ95Dhgt1Zk/s320/espera-752420.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não volte&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu te peço&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Suma novamente&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não me deixa sonhar &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Com histórias sem jeito&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que acabam derrepente&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, como fui feliz sem teu olhar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Esperto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sem teu abraço&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Inquieto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fico sem você&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;No fim de hoje&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;No fim da história&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, queria te beijar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E sofrer de novo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tudo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Agora&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu te amo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não nego&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E até o fim dos dias&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;É você quem eu espero.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meu anjo...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;(13.08.2007)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-2257512268948629695?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/2257512268948629695/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=2257512268948629695&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/2257512268948629695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/2257512268948629695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/nao-volte.html' title='Não volte'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sg7ksuQxRNI/AAAAAAAAB04/wJ95Dhgt1Zk/s72-c/espera-752420.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-1007503414726364431</id><published>2009-05-15T12:40:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T13:02:59.912-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Embebida de vazio</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sg2Rps8--MI/AAAAAAAAB0w/46uQ4EXA0QA/s1600-h/toulouse-lautrec+mulher+bar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 269px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sg2Rps8--MI/AAAAAAAAB0w/46uQ4EXA0QA/s320/toulouse-lautrec+mulher+bar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336081279131515074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A boca seca&lt;br /&gt;Deseja água&lt;br /&gt;O coração&lt;br /&gt;Deseja amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esse bar é minha casa&lt;br /&gt;E sem você&lt;br /&gt;Nada tem valor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu escrevo poemas&lt;br /&gt;Chatos&lt;br /&gt;Doces, insensatos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu vivo de sonhos&lt;br /&gt;Para esquecer&lt;br /&gt;Como são dolorosos&lt;br /&gt;Dias, fatos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu tenho errado tanto&lt;br /&gt;Pela saudade&lt;br /&gt;Pelo desencanto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu tenho sorrido&lt;br /&gt;Em lágrimas&lt;br /&gt;Em pranto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu tenho amado o mundo&lt;br /&gt;As pessoas, no entanto&lt;br /&gt;São vazio e tristeza&lt;br /&gt;Sem afago e acalanto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(29.07.2007)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-1007503414726364431?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/1007503414726364431/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=1007503414726364431&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1007503414726364431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1007503414726364431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/embebida-de-vazio.html' title='Embebida de vazio'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sg2Rps8--MI/AAAAAAAAB0w/46uQ4EXA0QA/s72-c/toulouse-lautrec+mulher+bar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-6688692515808067697</id><published>2009-05-14T16:56:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T17:00:54.718-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Calmaria</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sgx4T9-w6ZI/AAAAAAAAB0g/y-RXl-gHqTc/s1600-h/pensativa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 187px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sgx4T9-w6ZI/AAAAAAAAB0g/y-RXl-gHqTc/s320/pensativa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335771942977857938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje me perguntei se te quero ainda&lt;br /&gt;E tive como resposta&lt;br /&gt;– Não sei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje tentei lembrar seu sorriso&lt;br /&gt;Não foi possível&lt;br /&gt;... mas tentei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isso me diz que foi embora&lt;br /&gt;O desespero&lt;br /&gt;E que só agora, me acalmei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas que ainda mora em mim&lt;br /&gt;A esperança&lt;br /&gt;De ouvir você dizer&lt;br /&gt;– Voltei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(23.07.2007)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-6688692515808067697?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/6688692515808067697/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=6688692515808067697&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/6688692515808067697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/6688692515808067697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/calmaria.html' title='Calmaria'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sgx4T9-w6ZI/AAAAAAAAB0g/y-RXl-gHqTc/s72-c/pensativa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-8991506291774006689</id><published>2009-05-13T11:24:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T12:35:11.461-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tatuagem'/><title type='text'>Você, em mim</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SgrYxuG5OBI/AAAAAAAAB0I/pJV8ogT_FdI/s1600-h/lagrimas+negras-jan+saudek.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 251px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SgrYxuG5OBI/AAAAAAAAB0I/pJV8ogT_FdI/s320/lagrimas+negras-jan+saudek.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335315057275910162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há desespero nessas mãos&lt;br /&gt;Que não se movem&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto o dia escurece&lt;br /&gt;E renasce a solidão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há tristeza nesse par de olhos&lt;br /&gt;Que são água e sal&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto bate por você&lt;br /&gt;Esse pobre coração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há um corpo que te deseja&lt;br /&gt;Há alegria e tristeza&lt;br /&gt;A cada dia&lt;br /&gt;A cada amanhecer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há em mim&lt;br /&gt;Muito de você&lt;br /&gt;... você.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falta um pouco de mim&lt;br /&gt;De mim&lt;br /&gt;...em mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falta viver [...] vida&lt;br /&gt;Esquecer lembranças&lt;br /&gt;Deixar de ser criança&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falta perceber&lt;br /&gt;Sua ausência, sua distância...&lt;br /&gt;Falta matar [em meu peito]&lt;br /&gt;Essa maldita esperança.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(21.07.2007)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Poesia que inspirou minha tatuagem, feita em agosto de 2008:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sgroa89pkVI/AAAAAAAAB0Y/bbdztIuUd8Y/s1600-h/tatuagem+%282%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sgroa89pkVI/AAAAAAAAB0Y/bbdztIuUd8Y/s320/tatuagem+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335332258312720722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-8991506291774006689?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/8991506291774006689/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=8991506291774006689&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/8991506291774006689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/8991506291774006689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/voce-em-mim.html' title='Você, em mim'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SgrYxuG5OBI/AAAAAAAAB0I/pJV8ogT_FdI/s72-c/lagrimas+negras-jan+saudek.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-284405162198809334</id><published>2009-05-12T12:33:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T12:39:08.966-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Minuta</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SgmXwdZO0PI/AAAAAAAABz4/VbrI1luqf68/s1600-h/espelho-infiel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 273px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SgmXwdZO0PI/AAAAAAAABz4/VbrI1luqf68/s320/espelho-infiel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334962092377034994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cabeça lateja&lt;br /&gt;Não sei por dor ou tristeza&lt;br /&gt;Seja lá como for&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há em versos momentos latentes&lt;br /&gt;Pessoas doentes&lt;br /&gt;Do mal do amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encontro no espelho&lt;br /&gt;Quilos&lt;br /&gt;Daquilo que me tornaram&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero no escuro&lt;br /&gt;Que meu eu obscuro&lt;br /&gt;Mate os desejos que me restaram&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas assim como tudo&lt;br /&gt;A noite acaba&lt;br /&gt;E nem o beijo, nem a euforia&lt;br /&gt;Deram-me o que acreditava&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olhei pra você&lt;br /&gt;Falei com você&lt;br /&gt;Mas ali você não estava&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Era a essa hora&lt;br /&gt;Mais uma na escada&lt;br /&gt;Uma jóia para a razão&lt;br /&gt;Mas não quem esperava&lt;br /&gt;...  seu coração.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(16.07.2007)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-284405162198809334?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/284405162198809334/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=284405162198809334&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/284405162198809334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/284405162198809334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/minuta.html' title='Minuta'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SgmXwdZO0PI/AAAAAAAABz4/VbrI1luqf68/s72-c/espelho-infiel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-6761821249766468346</id><published>2009-05-12T00:22:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T08:25:19.920-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Devaneio</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sgjt1x4qKoI/AAAAAAAABzo/sIdkeS2PESo/s1600-h/devaneio_imagem.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 272px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sgjt1x4qKoI/AAAAAAAABzo/sIdkeS2PESo/s320/devaneio_imagem.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334775266800183938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mora em mim um infinito&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;De melancolia, de saudade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;De tudo que há guardado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;De tudo que já foi bonito&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Habita-me um pesar &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Raiva, estupidez... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que me corroem as entranhas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E destroem os vestígios de lucidez&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tua voz ecoa ao vento&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E me traz ao pensamento&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;O flagelo de minha calma&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Renuncio todos os haveres desse mundo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Se deixares ter paz&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Esta pedinte alma&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grite aos meus ouvidos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que não me quer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Apague esta centelha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dantes que se torne flama&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ignore esse querer sincero&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não atenda essa voz que te chama&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Entorpeça-se do efêmero&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sacrifica agora...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mulher que te ama.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;(14.07.2007)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-6761821249766468346?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/6761821249766468346/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=6761821249766468346&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/6761821249766468346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/6761821249766468346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/devaneio.html' title='Devaneio'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Sgjt1x4qKoI/AAAAAAAABzo/sIdkeS2PESo/s72-c/devaneio_imagem.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-6570441308375999893</id><published>2009-05-10T10:34:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T10:44:32.237-03:00</updated><title type='text'>À procura da felicidade</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Excepcionalmente, hoje, a poesia postada é de autoria da minha mãe, Euza Marques Duarte. Grande mulher, a melhor mãe do mundo faz aniversário também hoje, Dia das Mães, e me deixou de presente a simplicidade, o gosto pela poesia e pelo amor. A todas as mães, um Feliz Dia das Mães!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SgbaEk1EifI/AAAAAAAABy4/KVrL6frW2N8/s320/felicidade.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334190580807535090" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;À procura da felicidade&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;À procura da felicidade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ainda continuo sem rumo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E, infelizmente, todos procuram um só rumo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Às vezes colocando até mesmo seu corpo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dispostos a sofrer abusos do ser humano&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Irresponsável&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Se todos fôssemos mais Humanos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Se tivéssemos uma educação espiritual&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sem sombra de dúvidas o amor brotaria&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Como plantinhas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que alguém as regasse todos os dias&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alguém já te procurou como vai sua vida?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Na espera de te ajudar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ou mesmo procurando te arruinar?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu gostaria de dizer Eu te amo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Posso te dizer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mas não sei se poderia me responder o mesmo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Com o mesmo sentimento.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;* Por Euza Duarte.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-6570441308375999893?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/6570441308375999893/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=6570441308375999893&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/6570441308375999893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/6570441308375999893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/procura-da-felicidade.html' title='À procura da felicidade'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SgbaEk1EifI/AAAAAAAABy4/KVrL6frW2N8/s72-c/felicidade.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-3584382631068209934</id><published>2009-05-09T19:58:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T20:10:59.254-03:00</updated><title type='text'>A minha bagatela</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SgYMOp3-Y2I/AAAAAAAAByw/y1b9U-AFFrs/s1600-h/035164.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333964254565262178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 210px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SgYMOp3-Y2I/AAAAAAAAByw/y1b9U-AFFrs/s320/035164.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Os olhos ardem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como se os grãos de poeira&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ou de pó&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O fizessem assim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É falta de ânimo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É cansaço&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É desencanto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um enovelado de coisas ruins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há uma menina que olha pela janela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma mulher que olha pela janela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma velha que olha pela janela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A vida olha pela janela, a vida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há um pesar que cai sobre os ombros&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há uma lágrima que escorre dos olhos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há meninos em homens simplórios&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Está triste por ser sofrida, a vida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Então se esconde o (que é) feio no vestido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E se finge ter esquecido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O erro e a solidão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas a vida está em retalhos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os sonhos em frangalhos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despedaçado, o coração.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(12.07.2007)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-3584382631068209934?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/3584382631068209934/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=3584382631068209934&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/3584382631068209934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/3584382631068209934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/minha-bagatela.html' title='A minha bagatela'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SgYMOp3-Y2I/AAAAAAAAByw/y1b9U-AFFrs/s72-c/035164.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-6597022188174705249</id><published>2009-05-08T12:48:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T13:06:12.839-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Lucidez</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SgRYWGLVdbI/AAAAAAAABx4/lPgtwfewcOg/s1600-h/antonia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333484995352032690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SgRYWGLVdbI/AAAAAAAABx4/lPgtwfewcOg/s320/antonia.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Encontra-se em cada palavra minha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Muito de você&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Por que minha mente te reconstruiu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Como uma forma de dessa vez&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu não mais te perder&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje me contento em ver você feliz&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Em ver você sorrir&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Em ver você sentir&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cada toque que não é meu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E só em versos te encontrar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sou espectadora da sua história&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que não sei ser comédia ou tragédia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E nessa espera desesperada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Escrevo romances que deixarei na estrada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero jogar tudo ao vento&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu, você, o mundo, o momento&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quero esfregar na tua cara&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Minha saudade, minha tristeza, minha espera&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque o tempo que hoje me castiga&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Será um dia meu amigo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E te entregarei como um presente&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A dor que trago comigo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;(08/07/2007)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-6597022188174705249?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/6597022188174705249/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=6597022188174705249&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/6597022188174705249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/6597022188174705249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/lucidez.html' title='Lucidez'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SgRYWGLVdbI/AAAAAAAABx4/lPgtwfewcOg/s72-c/antonia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-3725360541416282687</id><published>2009-05-05T09:41:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T09:51:56.298-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Menina</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SgA0kj7fNgI/AAAAAAAABxo/XUzTGM1YW9E/s1600-h/menina+invisivel.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332319761531352578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 288px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SgA0kj7fNgI/AAAAAAAABxo/XUzTGM1YW9E/s320/menina+invisivel.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Canta menina...&lt;br /&gt;Canta seus versos&lt;br /&gt;Em rima, com melodia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conta menina...&lt;br /&gt;Conta histórias, chora&lt;br /&gt;Escreva poesia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sofra menina, sofra&lt;br /&gt;Que sua dor é renúncia&lt;br /&gt;E sua atitude é divina&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olha menina&lt;br /&gt;Olha tudo que poderia ser seu&lt;br /&gt;Lembra que de tudo&lt;br /&gt;Um pouco já se perdeu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lembra menina&lt;br /&gt;Lembra do olhar e do abraço&lt;br /&gt;Que de lamúria e agonia&lt;br /&gt;Vence-lhe aos poucos o cansaço.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(04.07.2007)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Abaixo, esta poesia musicada pelo meu grande amigo Abraão:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Gergia;font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.yehplay.com/musics/Brunna-DuarteAbraao-Menina/286932/" target="_blank"&gt;Brunna Duarte/Abraão - Menina&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object id="yehplay" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=" height="60" width="260" align="middle" border="0" classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000"&gt;&lt;param name="_cx" value="6879"&gt;&lt;param name="_cy" value="1588"&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="Movie" value="http://www.mp3tube.net/play.swf?id=bcd68416fb2c9fd57059feebc89abe82"&gt;&lt;param name="Src" value="http://www.mp3tube.net/play.swf?id=bcd68416fb2c9fd57059feebc89abe82"&gt;&lt;param name="WMode" value="Transparent"&gt;&lt;param name="Play" value="-1"&gt;&lt;param name="Loop" value="-1"&gt;&lt;param name="Quality" value="High"&gt;&lt;param name="SAlign" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="Menu" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="Base" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="AllowScriptAccess" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="Scale" value="ShowAll"&gt;&lt;param name="DeviceFont" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="EmbedMovie" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="BGColor" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="SWRemote" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="MovieData" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="SeamlessTabbing" value="1"&gt;&lt;param name="Profile" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="ProfileAddress" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="ProfilePort" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="AllowNetworking" value="all"&gt;&lt;param name="AllowFullScreen" value="false"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.mp3tube.net/play.swf?id=bcd68416fb2c9fd57059feebc89abe82" quality="High" width="260" height="60" name="yehplay" align="middle" allowscriptaccess="sameDomain" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" wmode="transparent" menu="false"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-3725360541416282687?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/3725360541416282687/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=3725360541416282687&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/3725360541416282687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/3725360541416282687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/05/menina.html' title='Menina'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SgA0kj7fNgI/AAAAAAAABxo/XUzTGM1YW9E/s72-c/menina+invisivel.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-4109981832044866473</id><published>2009-04-29T22:08:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T23:00:10.640-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ciúme'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='renúncia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amor'/><title type='text'>Por que é que eu não desisto de você?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SfkGAhTKhrI/AAAAAAAABxY/G4zNrzGY9yo/s1600-h/distancia1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 271px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SfkGAhTKhrI/AAAAAAAABxY/G4zNrzGY9yo/s320/distancia1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330298239978210994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Porque não tenho coragem&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;De viver novos momentos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Esquecer os meus lamentos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Entender que fostes uma miragem&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque o ciúme é realidade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Reaviva o meu desejo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Reacende o meu medo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Recria minhas verdades&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque me engano em fugir&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sei que estás dentro de mim&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mesmo sendo tudo assim&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não há coragem para ir&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque te sinto por inteiro&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E no decorrer de anos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Entre acertos e enganos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sinto que será sempre o primeiro&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque gosto de você&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quero você&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Penso em você&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Porque amo você&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque mesmo a viver amor de renúncia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sei que és meu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Em sonhos ou delírios&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;És meu presente e meu martírio.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(1/7/2007)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-4109981832044866473?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/4109981832044866473/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=4109981832044866473&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/4109981832044866473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/4109981832044866473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/04/por-que-e-que-eu-nao-desisto-de-voce.html' title='Por que é que eu não desisto de você?'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SfkGAhTKhrI/AAAAAAAABxY/G4zNrzGY9yo/s72-c/distancia1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-197615624154870139</id><published>2009-04-28T10:45:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T11:13:26.099-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Indicação ao prêmio Top Blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SfcNRXNT7HI/AAAAAAAABxI/vxH4-5m3Bjw/s1600-h/sem+tÃ&amp;shy;tulo.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329743275955055730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SfcNRXNT7HI/AAAAAAAABxI/vxH4-5m3Bjw/s400/sem+t%C3%ADtulo.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SfcLNzIyzBI/AAAAAAAABw4/DliW-ja63PI/s1600-h/sem+tÃ&amp;shy;tulo.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Olá pessoal! Ontem à tarde tive um surpresa muito boa! Recebi um e-mail me informando que meu blog Temporal Atemporal havia sido indicado para participar do &lt;strong&gt;Prêmio Top Blog&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não sei quem foi a pessoa bacana que indicou meu blog, mas quero agradecer, de coração!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A princípio, fiquei meio receosa, pois meu blog ainda é muito recente e parecia-me que só era lido por amigos e pessoas conhecidas. No entanto, me arrisquei a participar. Primeiro, porque a indicação foi motivo de alegria para mim. Segundo, pelo fato de que quem não tenta já se tornou perdedor de antemão!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cadastrei dois dos meus três blogs no Prêmio, sem grandes pretensões, mas feliz pela participação:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.meuintento.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://www.meuintento.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt; (Categoria Comunicação)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://www.temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt; (Categoria Variedades)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para saber mais sobre o Prêmio Top Blog, &lt;a href="http://www.topblog.com.br/sobre_premio.php"&gt;clique aqui&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-197615624154870139?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/197615624154870139/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=197615624154870139&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/197615624154870139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/197615624154870139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/04/indicacao-ao-premio-top-blog.html' title='Indicação ao prêmio Top Blog'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SfcNRXNT7HI/AAAAAAAABxI/vxH4-5m3Bjw/s72-c/sem+t%C3%ADtulo.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-7458147843686343763</id><published>2009-04-27T12:44:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T12:46:41.060-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Poesia de poeta</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SfXTVX6Jl0I/AAAAAAAABww/Qa_-jAfKY40/s1600-h/1214076651_poeta.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329398098211477314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 309px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SfXTVX6Jl0I/AAAAAAAABww/Qa_-jAfKY40/s320/1214076651_poeta.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Poeta não vive&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Poeta escreve histórias&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Emoções sem fundamento&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poeta nasce para ver o mundo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Interpretar e sentir o mundo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Poeta nasce para ver os outros viverem&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Viverem aquilo que ele escreve&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O poeta é infeliz&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Faz da dor a matriz&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;De toda sua existência&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poeta é teatro, música&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Poeta é lua, rua&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Poeta só não é ciência&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poeta escreve o sofrimento&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Porque sofre para escrever&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Esse é o seu destino&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seja homem grande&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seja um velhusco&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nunca passará de um menino&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poeta ri o choro&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Poeta escreve a dor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Versa o sentimento&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poeta sabe que inspiração de poeta&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Só encontra verdade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;No amor e no lamento.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;(29.06.2007)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-7458147843686343763?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/7458147843686343763/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=7458147843686343763&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/7458147843686343763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/7458147843686343763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/04/poesia-de-poeta.html' title='Poesia de poeta'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SfXTVX6Jl0I/AAAAAAAABww/Qa_-jAfKY40/s72-c/1214076651_poeta.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-2231686102930752070</id><published>2009-04-23T23:11:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T23:16:59.148-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Muda?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SfEg_H7vOCI/AAAAAAAABwM/XRrdTJYVoK0/s1600-h/37223_002k6x65.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SfEg_H7vOCI/AAAAAAAABwM/XRrdTJYVoK0/s320/37223_002k6x65.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328076102989461538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Essas palavras invadiram meu mundo&lt;br /&gt;O meu, o dele&lt;br /&gt;Mas não o seu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que você sente&lt;br /&gt;Se é que sente, na sua mente&lt;br /&gt;Já se perdeu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu te desenho em versos mudos&lt;br /&gt;Em pensamentos sujos&lt;br /&gt;Cheios de adeus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Irei contar essa história&lt;br /&gt;Todos os dias&lt;br /&gt;Todas as horas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Viverei de um amor&lt;br /&gt;Que só eu sei amar&lt;br /&gt;Sentirei o horror&lt;br /&gt;De você, talvez, não voltar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas serás sempre meu&lt;br /&gt;É meu&lt;br /&gt;O desejo de estar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando sair, deixe a porta aberta&lt;br /&gt;Pois a vontade não nega&lt;br /&gt;Na hora certa&lt;br /&gt;Sei que irás voltar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(25.06.2007)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-2231686102930752070?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/2231686102930752070/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=2231686102930752070&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/2231686102930752070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/2231686102930752070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/04/muda.html' title='Muda?'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SfEg_H7vOCI/AAAAAAAABwM/XRrdTJYVoK0/s72-c/37223_002k6x65.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-4234909054897491310</id><published>2009-04-22T12:50:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T13:02:01.949-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O meu presente</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Se88xTHlNgI/AAAAAAAABwE/I-dWHRJSSJc/s1600-h/ciume[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327543701845915138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 315px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 294px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Se88xTHlNgI/AAAAAAAABwE/I-dWHRJSSJc/s320/ciume%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Descobri uma reserva de forças&lt;br /&gt;Falsas, trêmulas, hesitantes&lt;br /&gt;No fundo de uma de minhas moças&lt;br /&gt;Intensas, carentes, errantes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Descobri que a mentira é conveniente&lt;br /&gt;Quando o coração sofre&lt;br /&gt;Quando a razão dorme&lt;br /&gt;Quando dor é só o que se sente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já aceitei toda a falta de possibilidade&lt;br /&gt;Amo sem amar&lt;br /&gt;Bebo pra chorar&lt;br /&gt;Fujo de verdades&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meu riso é constante, externo&lt;br /&gt;Negro, obscuro, amarelo&lt;br /&gt;Meu choro é contido, engolido&lt;br /&gt;Estranho, calado, sofrido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me acostumei a viver essa história&lt;br /&gt;Dia-a-dia, noites e noites&lt;br /&gt;Hoje só minha memória&lt;br /&gt;Revive os nossos momentos doces&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje me pergunto se realmente&lt;br /&gt;Meu lugar é ao teu lado&lt;br /&gt;Se devo ser insistente&lt;br /&gt;Ou esquecer logo o passado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E é nessa dança de palavras e rimas&lt;br /&gt;Que as meninas fazem o contrário&lt;br /&gt;Esquecem dores, medos, agonias&lt;br /&gt;Esquecem todas as noites, esquecem os dias&lt;br /&gt;Mas não se esquecem do seu aniversário.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(23.06.2007)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-4234909054897491310?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/4234909054897491310/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=4234909054897491310&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/4234909054897491310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/4234909054897491310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/04/o-meu-presente.html' title='O meu presente'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Se88xTHlNgI/AAAAAAAABwE/I-dWHRJSSJc/s72-c/ciume%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-5591346750936514409</id><published>2009-04-21T11:33:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T11:44:20.878-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='namorado'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dia dos namorados'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amor'/><title type='text'>Palavras para o homem amado</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Se3buyXMSXI/AAAAAAAABv8/h-2rA93kTvU/s1600-h/namorados25.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 232px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Se3buyXMSXI/AAAAAAAABv8/h-2rA93kTvU/s320/namorados25.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327155531088677234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Caminhei por muitos lugares vazios&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Encontrei muitos amores insanos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me enganei por muito tempo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pois te encontrar não estava em meus planos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O coração feminino é estranho&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Faz do certo, incerto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Procura apenas aconchego&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Renega o que é possível&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pois encontra prazer em sentir medo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encontrei no seu olhar as respostas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Para o meu coração sofrido e descrente&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As suas palavras invadiram minha alma&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E me fizeram acreditar novamente&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nos conhecemos há muito tempo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Você sempre esteve em meus sonhos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me livrava de todo sofrimento&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E trazia sorrisos ao meu rosto tristonho&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero te eternizar em palavras simples e doces&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E conquistar cada sorriso seu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quero que sejas feliz como nunca fostes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E ter a certeza de que és só meu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje não importa o que fomos ou fizemos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;São meros fragmentos de nossos passados&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tenha certeza de que és meu maior presente&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nesse belo dia dos namorados.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;(12.06.2007)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-5591346750936514409?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/5591346750936514409/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=5591346750936514409&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/5591346750936514409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/5591346750936514409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/04/palavras-para-o-homem-amado.html' title='Palavras para o homem amado'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Se3buyXMSXI/AAAAAAAABv8/h-2rA93kTvU/s72-c/namorados25.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-2257085352445360460</id><published>2009-04-20T12:48:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T12:58:06.094-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='namorada'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dia dos namorados'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amor'/><title type='text'>Palavras para a mulher amada</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SeyZg84mqJI/AAAAAAAABvM/QG0oFnXZOhw/s1600-h/namorados1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326801250650859666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 302px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SeyZg84mqJI/AAAAAAAABvM/QG0oFnXZOhw/s320/namorados1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;O dia amanheceu como uma criança a pedir colo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Belo e cheio de esperança&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sorriu pra mim de um jeito único&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pois sei que já não estou só&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lembrei-me de minha amada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aquela flor de perfume delicado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que fez de meu coração sua morada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E me deixou apaixonado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não há remédio mais doce que um beijo seu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não há pedido seu que eu possa negar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não há vida, cor, passado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nada teria sentido, se não estivesse ao meu lado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quero dizer que seus olhos refletem o caminho certo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que seu cheiro é o mais inspirador e mais perfeito&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que dentre todas é a mais bela&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E que nada se compara ao seu jeito&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não tenha medo de mais nada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pois meus braços te protegerão de todo medo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Serei seu e você, minha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E não existirá mais nenhum segredo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tenha pena dos corações angustiados&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que andam perdidos em sua própria dor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E nesse dia dos namorados&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Saiba que meu maior presente é o seu amor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;(12.06.2007)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-2257085352445360460?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/2257085352445360460/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=2257085352445360460&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/2257085352445360460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/2257085352445360460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/04/palavras-para-mulher-amada.html' title='Palavras para a mulher amada'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SeyZg84mqJI/AAAAAAAABvM/QG0oFnXZOhw/s72-c/namorados1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-90572197220215724</id><published>2009-04-19T00:19:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T00:46:32.535-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Eclipse</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Seqc4h_xKLI/AAAAAAAABvE/lssu4AngJWU/s1600-h/beira_mar_eclipse.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326242004331473074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Seqc4h_xKLI/AAAAAAAABvE/lssu4AngJWU/s320/beira_mar_eclipse.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quando me contaram sobre sua existência&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu não pude acreditar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Será que haveria luz &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Além daquela que vejo refletida no mar?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disseram-me que sua presença gerava a vida&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E que aquecia corpos e elementos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mas não acreditei em algo assim&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não haveria de existir ser tão supremo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Logo eu que embalei tantos romances&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E inspirei tantos versos e canções&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Percebi que era sozinha&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que nunca teria tais emoções&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disseram ser um eclipse&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;O instante em que me vi junto a você&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não me importava se o resto do mundo estivera em escuridão&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foi algo que não poderei esquecer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu senti seu calor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me entreguei como quem não teme mais nada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Porque sabia, carregaria a dor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;De nunca poder ser sua enamorada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hoje, ilumino os caminhos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dos perdidos e apaixonados&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sou a resposta dos desesperados&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sigo criando felicidade aos que a mim vêm&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Para não pensar na alegria do passado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nem em tudo que não vivi ao seu lado.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;(10.06.2007)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-90572197220215724?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/90572197220215724/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=90572197220215724&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/90572197220215724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/90572197220215724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/04/eclipse.html' title='Eclipse'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Seqc4h_xKLI/AAAAAAAABvE/lssu4AngJWU/s72-c/beira_mar_eclipse.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-4451744907201420701</id><published>2009-04-18T11:41:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T11:43:28.316-03:00</updated><title type='text'>A foto</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Senm_T-RiPI/AAAAAAAABus/3RmkAkNSScY/s1600-h/M_e_Alfeu_porta_retrato_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326042009709938930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 293px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Senm_T-RiPI/AAAAAAAABus/3RmkAkNSScY/s400/M_e_Alfeu_porta_retrato_.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Há tempos vivo essa dor &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Incontáveis são as lágrimas que já escorreram&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Por esse desconsolado, amargo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Por esse triste rosto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Às vezes penso ser puro egoísmo, esse sentimento&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Um amor louco, insensato&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que de tanta teimosia, insiste em sofrer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mesmo sabendo ser preciso te esquecer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu vou te amar mesmo que o mundo me condene&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Caminharei para o abismo, pensando que você lá estará&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Para me pegar em seus braços&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;E aliviar essa insuportável dor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Queria dormir e nunca mais abrir os olhos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Porque eu me destruo a cada amanhecer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu preferiria a morte, a ver aquela foto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que me trouxe a imensurável tristeza&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Da certeza de ter perdido você.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(10.06.2007)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-4451744907201420701?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/4451744907201420701/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=4451744907201420701&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/4451744907201420701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/4451744907201420701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/04/foto_18.html' title='A foto'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/Senm_T-RiPI/AAAAAAAABus/3RmkAkNSScY/s72-c/M_e_Alfeu_porta_retrato_.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-6723975889984461293</id><published>2009-04-17T12:46:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T12:56:37.462-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ciúme</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SeimE4ihMNI/AAAAAAAABt8/bLgtvShxgRM/s1600-h/ciumes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325689162192466130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 243px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SeimE4ihMNI/AAAAAAAABt8/bLgtvShxgRM/s320/ciumes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lua nunca esteve tão brilhante&lt;br /&gt;Pra me mostrar tão claramente&lt;br /&gt;Onde foi que eu errei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O frio nunca esteve tão intenso&lt;br /&gt;Pra me mostrar que nesse inverno&lt;br /&gt;Seguirei sem você&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu tenho morrido a cada sorriso&lt;br /&gt;Eu tenho vivido cada lembrança&lt;br /&gt;Eu tenho sentido o desfalecer de minha alma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aquelas palavras tinham que ser ditas pra mim&lt;br /&gt;Aquele sorriso deveria ser a minha rotina&lt;br /&gt;Essa vida tão mísera, esses quereres tão vazios&lt;br /&gt;Tudo retrata noites e dias sem a sua companhia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ontem me afoguei num vazio estranho&lt;br /&gt;O vazio mais cheio de você que pude inventar&lt;br /&gt;A gente se ama toda noite&lt;br /&gt;Antes de eu acordar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disseram-me que eu irei esquecer você&lt;br /&gt;Eu também me disse isso&lt;br /&gt;E sei que quando isso acontecer estarei livre para sucumbir&lt;br /&gt;Porque você sempre será tudo que eu quero&lt;br /&gt;Tudo que eu preciso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(07.06.2007)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-6723975889984461293?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/6723975889984461293/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=6723975889984461293&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/6723975889984461293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/6723975889984461293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/04/ciume.html' title='Ciúme'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SeimE4ihMNI/AAAAAAAABt8/bLgtvShxgRM/s72-c/ciumes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-7216172872589776587</id><published>2009-04-16T13:45:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T13:51:50.917-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Asfixia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SedgtgqFHFI/AAAAAAAABt0/QpjVKkJIxEQ/s1600-h/tears.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325331419365710930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 222px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SedgtgqFHFI/AAAAAAAABt0/QpjVKkJIxEQ/s320/tears.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;São nas horas mortas que mais sinto sua falta&lt;br /&gt;Horas essas em que esqueço do mundo&lt;br /&gt;De mim&lt;br /&gt;Pra lembrar de você&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para falar de vida&lt;br /&gt;Ciência, política&lt;br /&gt;Para pensar o mundo&lt;br /&gt;Primeiro tenho que te esquecer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me parece doença, vício, nostalgia&lt;br /&gt;E se minhas crenças permitissem&lt;br /&gt;Diria que é magia...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tire suas mãos da minha garganta&lt;br /&gt;Eu preciso respirar&lt;br /&gt;Tire suas lembranças da minha mente&lt;br /&gt;Eu preciso respirar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estou cansada, dolorida, ressentida&lt;br /&gt;E são esperanças que me constroem e me destroem&lt;br /&gt;Essa música me lembrou de nós&lt;br /&gt;Tomei você no café da manhã.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(15.05.2007)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-7216172872589776587?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/7216172872589776587/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=7216172872589776587&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/7216172872589776587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/7216172872589776587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/04/asfixia.html' title='Asfixia'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SedgtgqFHFI/AAAAAAAABt0/QpjVKkJIxEQ/s72-c/tears.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-1298472202718554590</id><published>2009-04-15T16:56:00.007-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T14:07:46.830-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Nostalgia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SeY8JOa5pjI/AAAAAAAABts/CMhhE4tzaAE/s1600-h/ibachmann.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325009738599605810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 218px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SeY8JOa5pjI/AAAAAAAABts/CMhhE4tzaAE/s320/ibachmann.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nada está ao meu alcance&lt;br /&gt;Nada&lt;br /&gt;Nem suas mãos, sua pele, seu cheiro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tudo é vazio&lt;br /&gt;Tudo&lt;br /&gt;O dia, o sonho, o medo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somos o exemplo da saudade&lt;br /&gt;Somos o desenho da angústia&lt;br /&gt;Somos o fantoche da insegurança&lt;br /&gt;Somos crianças sozinhas e perdidas na multidão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mil poetas, músicos, filósofos&lt;br /&gt;Todos escreveram nossa história&lt;br /&gt;De mil formas diferentes&lt;br /&gt;E todas se resumiram em pontos de interrogação&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Versos tortos&lt;br /&gt;Palavras perdidas em um universo de emoções&lt;br /&gt;Faz frio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(14.05.2007)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Abaixo, a poesia musicada pelo meu grande amigo Abraão:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.mp3tube.net/musics/Brunna-DuarteAbraao-Nostalgia/286931/" target="_blank"&gt;Brunna Duarte/Abraão - Nostalgia&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object id="mp3tube" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=" height="60" width="260" align="middle" border="0" classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000"&gt;&lt;param name="_cx" value="6879"&gt;&lt;param name="_cy" value="1588"&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="Movie" value="http://www.mp3tube.net/play.swf?id=ea09b64b6e11c47a955993b42044b16a"&gt;&lt;param name="Src" value="http://www.mp3tube.net/play.swf?id=ea09b64b6e11c47a955993b42044b16a"&gt;&lt;param name="WMode" value="Transparent"&gt;&lt;param name="Play" value="-1"&gt;&lt;param name="Loop" value="-1"&gt;&lt;param name="Quality" value="High"&gt;&lt;param name="SAlign" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="Menu" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="Base" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="AllowScriptAccess" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="Scale" value="ShowAll"&gt;&lt;param name="DeviceFont" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="EmbedMovie" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="BGColor" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="SWRemote" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="MovieData" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="SeamlessTabbing" value="1"&gt;&lt;param name="Profile" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="ProfileAddress" value=""&gt;&lt;param name="ProfilePort" value="0"&gt;&lt;param name="AllowNetworking" value="all"&gt;&lt;param name="AllowFullScreen" value="false"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.mp3tube.net/play.swf?id=ea09b64b6e11c47a955993b42044b16a" quality="High" width="260" height="60" name="mp3tube" align="middle" allowscriptaccess="sameDomain" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" wmode="transparent" menu="false"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-1298472202718554590?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/1298472202718554590/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=1298472202718554590&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1298472202718554590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/1298472202718554590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/04/nostalgia.html' title='Nostalgia'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SeY8JOa5pjI/AAAAAAAABts/CMhhE4tzaAE/s72-c/ibachmann.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-8548752803339427198</id><published>2009-04-15T00:12:00.020-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T13:10:17.138-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Prazer e tormento</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SeVSgV6QlBI/AAAAAAAABtk/nqFrysJDzTE/s1600-h/violenciamulheres_72dpi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324752850026271762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SeVSgV6QlBI/AAAAAAAABtk/nqFrysJDzTE/s320/violenciamulheres_72dpi.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ei de ter coragem para lhe procurar, ou esquecer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ei de chegar a sua porta e conseguir lhe chamar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ei de conseguir lhe ignorar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;De que adiantam esses versos bregas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Se para você não passo de estatística?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Um passado não muito distante&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;De onde vem tanto talento em seduzir&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Em dizer palavras que emudecem o coração?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;De onde vem esses olhos que hipnotizam de tanta simplicidade?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Você é aquela pergunta intrigante&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Da qual, por mais que saiba a resposta&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tenho que testar as várias formas e caminhos de uma possível solução&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Você é a escultura&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que mesmo sabendo ser pedra&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fria e vazia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Encanta-me os olhos e atravessa os tempos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E as peles quentes, cheias de vida e cor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que sentimento é esse que encontra verdade em mentiras&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que faz tudo parecer sem sentido sem sua presença&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que transforma os dias&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que instiga loucuras?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E as vontades se apressam em sobrepor a razão&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E o conhecido se torna imprevisível&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Prazer e tormento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Maio de 2007)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-8548752803339427198?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/8548752803339427198/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=8548752803339427198&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/8548752803339427198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/8548752803339427198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/04/prazer-e-tormento.html' title='Prazer e tormento'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SeVSgV6QlBI/AAAAAAAABtk/nqFrysJDzTE/s72-c/violenciamulheres_72dpi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3655978805509967505.post-4816501334625007608</id><published>2009-04-14T19:28:00.025-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T13:06:33.217-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O começo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SejcFba5WSI/AAAAAAAABuc/BfhxvIkmUks/s1600-h/24-07-08_2335192.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325748545183635746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SejcFba5WSI/AAAAAAAABuc/BfhxvIkmUks/s320/24-07-08_2335192.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;Para os que me conhecem, seja pessoalmente, seja pela internet, não é novidade o fato de que escrevo poesias. Se boas ou ruins, só a subjetividade ou objetividade de cada um pode dizer. A questão é: escrever poesias é, para mim, algo relativamente novo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;Há pouco menos de três anos, eu era avessa à poesia como uma criança que se recusa a comer as verduras oferecidas pela mãe. Eu não gostava e pronto! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;Mas havia um detalhe: eu ainda não tinha sido apresentada à poesia. E foi então que a querida professora Sandra Paro promoveu meu encontro com Vinícius de Moraes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;Imagina! Eu, com os meus dezoito anos recém completados, concluindo o segundo período de jornalismo, sendo apresentada a uma obra assim tão fascinante. Foi amor à primeira vista!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;Desde então, tenho me aventurado neste caminho florido, curvilíneo e fértil das palavras. Por vezes, mais intensamente. Outras, nem tanto. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;Com o objetivo de reunir as minhas criações, hoje espalhadas em diversos lugares na internet, principalmente no site onde sou colunista - o &lt;a href="http://www.gostodeler.com.br/curriculo/201/Brunna_Duarte.html"&gt;Gosto de Ler&lt;/a&gt;, criei este blog. Elas serão postadas, uma a uma, das mais antigas às mais recentes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;Aos que se predisporem a ler minhas poesias, fica o princípio de liberdade. Minhas poesias são livres, sem amarras, regras, sem forma definida. São eu, o momento, são o mundo que meus olhos veem, que os meus sentidos percebem. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;São uma forma de expressão, que pode impressionar ou não.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"&gt;Seja bem-vindo ao Temporal Atemporal, o blog de poesias de Brunna Duarte! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3655978805509967505-4816501334625007608?l=temporalatemporal.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/feeds/4816501334625007608/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3655978805509967505&amp;postID=4816501334625007608&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/4816501334625007608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3655978805509967505/posts/default/4816501334625007608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://temporalatemporal.blogspot.com/2009/04/para-os-que-me-conhecem-seja.html' title='O começo'/><author><name>Brunna Duarte</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08721214660540916550</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='31' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-f498XXY0kPI/Tu_owjsAMeI/AAAAAAAACnw/QAn979HSV_E/s220/402607_266402060085407_100001468449135_792695_529369751_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_qP-RiMdgb5M/SejcFba5WSI/AAAAAAAABuc/BfhxvIkmUks/s72-c/24-07-08_2335192.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
