<?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-6811576</id><updated>2011-06-08T07:24:11.682+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Espinhas Literárias</title><subtitle type='html'>Para ti! Sim, tu... que queres deitar tudo cá para fora e não tens papel ou saco por perto...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>53</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-114657436523074634</id><published>2006-05-02T13:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-05-02T13:54:15.413+01:00</updated><title type='text'>um copo cheio de saudades</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;começa assim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;tenho saudades tuas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;de te imaginar , de me inspirar, de criar e reinventar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;de ficar horas seguidas a olhar-te&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;embaçiar-me de beijos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;sempre com aquele sorriso de quem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;saboreia antecipadamente o fim de algo belo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;único.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;dos amantes nas entrelinhas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;afastamo-nos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e fingimos acreditar nisso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;silêncio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;tenho saudades. um grito de certezas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;quando tudo isso me parecia impossível.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;enquanto vejo-te a passar em pino na minha t.v.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;quis ir ter contigo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;quis vir ter comigo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;acho que sempre pensaste que eu estava a brincar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;se ao menos soubesses como é.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;saberias onde me levar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;por entre os teus dedos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e lábios,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;onde escorre a poesia que silenciamos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;durante todo este tempo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;poesia que pensas não entender&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;essa poesia que está dentro de ti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;nesses cabelos selvagens que trazes contigo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;no cheiro do teu corpo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;tenho inveja do nosso tempo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;de ter um palmo e meio de sonho a correr sem parar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;tenho saudades de ti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;de me ver ao espelho,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e ter o reflexo do teu sorriso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&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/6811576-114657436523074634?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/114657436523074634/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=114657436523074634' title='14 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/114657436523074634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/114657436523074634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2006/05/um-copo-cheio-de-saudades.html' title='um copo cheio de saudades'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-114348031234670784</id><published>2006-03-27T18:17:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2006-03-27T18:25:12.356+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Move-te</title><content type='html'>Move-te &lt;br /&gt;Faz alguma coisa&lt;br /&gt;Como a água da chuva que ansiosa se precipita&lt;br /&gt;As minhas palavras correm e juntam-se ao rio&lt;br /&gt;E passam por ti sem te regarem&lt;br /&gt;Mas como posso eu pedir que tenhas consciência&lt;br /&gt;Quando não passas de uma bela estátua grega e fria?&lt;br /&gt;Pensar-te é o meu defeito&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Move-te&lt;br /&gt;Faz alguma coisa&lt;br /&gt;Imobilidade mórbida de um desmembramento insano&lt;br /&gt;Receber-te em mim é a minha sede&lt;br /&gt;Fixo o olhar em ti e resolvo deixar de respirar&lt;br /&gt;Para me concentrar em ti&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo morta&lt;br /&gt;Olhar-te é o meu vício&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Move-te&lt;br /&gt;Faz alguma coisa&lt;br /&gt;No canto do nosso quarto erguem-se pirâmides&lt;br /&gt;A terra rasga-se e elas crescem intrometidas&lt;br /&gt;Desvio-me delas pontiagudas para tentar manter-te sob a minha égide&lt;br /&gt;Neste espaço labiríntico que nos divide&lt;br /&gt;Por entre os prantos os risos e os vícios do Egipto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Move-te&lt;br /&gt;Faz alguma coisa&lt;br /&gt;A mágoa chora na noite triste quando me lembram de ti&lt;br /&gt;Esconjuro-te estátua, porque não ardes&lt;br /&gt;E ao mesmo tempo não te ausentas de mim.&lt;br /&gt;Erva daninha.&lt;br /&gt;Que cresces quando já te pensava esquecida.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-114348031234670784?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://descontroladoaltodeleite.blogspot.com' title='Move-te'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/114348031234670784/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=114348031234670784' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/114348031234670784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/114348031234670784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2006/03/move-te.html' title='Move-te'/><author><name>Z</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hY8QC9J9l1I/TQn3ldyer6I/AAAAAAAAAug/JwRWpiq0W7Q/S220/superman_logo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-114184760182608747</id><published>2006-03-08T19:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-09T15:22:58.813Z</updated><title type='text'>Mar</title><content type='html'>Se colocarmos a vida numa aventura no mar&lt;br /&gt;o que te representa?&lt;br /&gt;Há quem diga que és mais uma tempestade&lt;br /&gt;que teima em fazer do meu caminho algo complicado,&lt;br /&gt;onde ondulo sem controlo na tua vontade...&lt;br /&gt;ou talvez um sol abrasador que derrete a força de mudar,&lt;br /&gt;a vontade de seguir, que reprime a saudade...&lt;br /&gt;Prefiro ver-te tal como és...&lt;br /&gt;Uma marina onde me sinto seguro, onde encontro&lt;br /&gt;a razão de navegar, onde o calor e luz são diferentes,&lt;br /&gt;onde a saudade se funde com a vontade....&lt;br /&gt;só lamento não ter permissão para ficar...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-114184760182608747?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/114184760182608747/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=114184760182608747' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/114184760182608747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/114184760182608747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2006/03/mar.html' title='Mar'/><author><name>Miguel Costa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-114184745181960539</id><published>2006-03-08T19:46:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-03-08T19:50:51.836Z</updated><title type='text'>o que lhe disseste?</title><content type='html'>que me perdia no seu olhar como um miúdo a encontrar pela primeira vez o significado das coisas... &lt;br /&gt;que me aquecia com o seu sorriso como um sol num final de tarde de verão que teima em ficar acordado e me arrasta com ele para a escuridão da noite mas com a segurança que volta a brilhar forte no dia seguinte....&lt;br /&gt;que desejava tocar nos seus lábios quentes e suaves como quem adormece para sempre numa acalmia perfeita....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-114184745181960539?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/114184745181960539/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=114184745181960539' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/114184745181960539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/114184745181960539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2006/03/o-que-lhe-disseste.html' title='o que lhe disseste?'/><author><name>Miguel Costa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-113941106868262317</id><published>2006-02-08T15:02:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-02-12T15:26:37.503Z</updated><title type='text'>... nada mais!</title><content type='html'>Só te queria tocar uma vez...&lt;br /&gt;sentir-te nos meu braços...&lt;br /&gt;fazer o tempo parar num eterno abraço...&lt;br /&gt;onde me perdia nos teus lábios aquecidos pelo desejo&lt;br /&gt;e onde dava o que nunca dei...&lt;br /&gt;Só te queria tocar pelo menos uma vez...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-113941106868262317?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/113941106868262317/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=113941106868262317' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/113941106868262317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/113941106868262317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2006/02/nada-mais.html' title='... nada mais!'/><author><name>Miguel Costa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-113827653918051359</id><published>2006-01-26T11:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-26T11:55:39.196Z</updated><title type='text'>o sussurrar de um vento quente</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Vem quente,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;à solta e forte, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;vem, vem...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;tocar, provar o que se sente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;uma dança à chuva, um sorriso no azul escuro da noite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;uma sede cada vez maior&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;onde se bebem copos de sonho e inspiram-se vontades &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;onde se encontra sem se procurar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;onde tudo se vê despido em palavras&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Até no silêncio,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;na lua, em casa, no chão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;no sitio onde as mãos se dão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;aqui em ti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;, aqui em mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;neste tempo que nos tatua por fora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;e nos sorri por dentro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;nesse braço que se estica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;na mão que estende a mão, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;desenha-nos o corpo&lt;br /&gt;e faz-nos viver&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; o luar dos corpos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;dança em mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt; essa vontade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;dorme aqui...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;dentro de ti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;dentro de mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;porque as palavras trazem-te...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;...e ao despi-las fico só contigo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&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/6811576-113827653918051359?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/113827653918051359/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=113827653918051359' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/113827653918051359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/113827653918051359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2006/01/o-sussurrar-de-um-vento-quente.html' title='o sussurrar de um vento quente'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-113811398662745419</id><published>2006-01-24T14:45:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-24T14:47:16.283Z</updated><title type='text'>Vamos dar lugar ao sonho</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;De mãos dadas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;vamos ser o lugar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;do prazer, de gostar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;de sorrir, de mostrar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;de fugir p'ra ficar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;a sentir, a despir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;de ter paz p'ra dormir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e acordar p'ra te ver &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;por fim assim em mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eu sei, sempre fui assim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;talvez queira demais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;só sei que o sonho te traz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e o meu sonhar seduz a paz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quando penso em ti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;vou sempre dar a mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;olho a luz e sigo a sombra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e é aqui que os lábios queimam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Muitas vezes o sonho acaba cego&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e a memória esconde-se aos sentidos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E os sonhos escondidos de sono vencidos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Cedo entrarão em nós&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Se uma noite não chegar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Diz que podes ficar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Vamos deixar o coração fazer o tempo de nascer...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;...e crescer devagar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&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/6811576-113811398662745419?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/113811398662745419/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=113811398662745419' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/113811398662745419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/113811398662745419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2006/01/vamos-dar-lugar-ao-sonho.html' title='Vamos dar lugar ao sonho'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-113706539840177353</id><published>2006-01-12T11:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2006-01-12T11:31:24.116Z</updated><title type='text'>Sol</title><content type='html'>e o que esperar desde fim de tarde?&lt;br /&gt;o dia finda, nada mais me espera. Nada mais espero.&lt;br /&gt;é simplesmente um bom fim de tarde. Sol que se apaga e me aquece, ainda.&lt;br /&gt;Nada mais quero. Que musica, que cheiro, que vento que me arrepia, que fim de tarde.&lt;br /&gt;Nada mais preciso. Que sonho tão bem vivido, sentido.&lt;br /&gt;Nada mais desejo. Partilhar este momento contigo. Mesmo por breves minutos que valem anos.&lt;br /&gt;Que tarde. E ali ficamos a aguardar o espectáculo das nossas vidas se dilua no horizonte.&lt;br /&gt;Nada mais preciso que agora dormir. Domir e acordar para chegar á conclusao que tudo foi apenas&lt;br /&gt;um sonho... um bom sonho.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-113706539840177353?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/113706539840177353/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=113706539840177353' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/113706539840177353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/113706539840177353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2006/01/sol.html' title='Sol'/><author><name>Miguel Costa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-113443977759740972</id><published>2005-12-13T02:08:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-12-13T02:10:14.460Z</updated><title type='text'>Azul Poente</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;...caminhamos sobre a brisa ardente que nos beija,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;dedilhando o silêncio de fim de tarde.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;só se ouve o som dos lábios colados,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;do grito das vontades acordadas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;gatos pretos saltam e espreitam entre folhas,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;que a sombra da noite esconde.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;o banco corrido enche-se com o abraço das mãos, cobrindo-o de beijos…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;beijos de luz que apagam a noite em nós,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;trazem-nos as estrelas, o céu, o nosso mundo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&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/6811576-113443977759740972?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/113443977759740972/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=113443977759740972' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/113443977759740972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/113443977759740972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2005/12/azul-poente.html' title='Azul Poente'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-113443152330815605</id><published>2005-12-12T23:49:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-12-12T23:56:07.113Z</updated><title type='text'>Ainda lembro quando começaste a ter "espinhas p'ra andar"...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7554/387/1600/logo_esli2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7554/387/320/logo_esli2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7554/387/1600/logo_esli.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-113443152330815605?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/113443152330815605/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=113443152330815605' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/113443152330815605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/113443152330815605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2005/12/ainda-lembro-quando-comeaste-ter.html' title='Ainda lembro quando começaste a ter &quot;espinhas p&apos;ra andar&quot;...'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-113334941346478013</id><published>2005-11-30T11:15:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-30T11:16:53.476Z</updated><title type='text'>num adeus que fica...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;As nossas palavras...não as levo para a rua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;não as quero perder nos becos escuros que moram aqui ao lado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;mas o que ficou não chega para afastar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;o frio invernoso destas quatro paredes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Esta silenciosa melancolia que não se gasta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;este silêncio grita-me o teu nome, a tua voz, esse teu silêncio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sei que é urgente destruir certos laços, palavras, silêncios&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;alguns lamentos, momentos, pensamentos que o vento traz mas não leva&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;sei que é urgente inventar de novo a alegria que se foi contigo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;olho o meu sorriso vazio, tal como a boca seca pelo frio do inverno e da ausência&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tento acertar-me no calor de outras paisagens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;mas erro tanto...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;porque tive e tenho-te &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;mesmo sem ti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&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/6811576-113334941346478013?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/113334941346478013/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=113334941346478013' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/113334941346478013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/113334941346478013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2005/11/num-adeus-que-fica.html' title='num adeus que fica...'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-113085199723944094</id><published>2005-11-01T13:31:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-11-01T13:33:17.250Z</updated><title type='text'>À luz de uma vela...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Deixa-te envolver pelo calor de uma vela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;e encantar pelos mistérios de uma chama acesa...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;misturando as nossa cores gota a gota pela tela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;retratando o nosso ninho com clareza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;numa tela com cheiro...com sabor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;com sonhos de pintor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;ali perdidos num verso puro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;ali escondidos no nosso amor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nela o nosso retrato está pintado para o sempre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;o tempo vai passar,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;vai remarcar ou amainar,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;podem querer sujar ou pintar por cima&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;mas nada conseguirá apagar o que já foi pintado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;a beleza que o papel sugou mesmo sem querer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Luta comigo, se achas que é preciso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Luta comigo, se conseguires.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Luta comigo, também para me dares força..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Luta, na convicção do que é melhor!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;..Dentro de mim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sensação de frio e calor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;um arrepio quente quando tocas a minha pele molhada...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Não me deixes viver na incerteza,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;não me deixes a vaguear sem rumo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Indica-me o caminho, mesmo que este seja até ao fim do mundo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-113085199723944094?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/113085199723944094/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=113085199723944094' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/113085199723944094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/113085199723944094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2005/11/luz-de-uma-vela.html' title='À luz de uma vela...'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-113015114580562705</id><published>2005-10-24T11:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-10-24T11:52:26.150+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Inquietação (enquanto a chuva cai lá fora)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Que corda é esta? Que estrela é esta? Que sombra é esta?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;que nos une, que faz com que dois pareçam um só?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;como se exalássemos a um só suspiro, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;como se te lembrasses de mim quando penso em ti!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Conheces demasiado o brilho dos olhos que se fixam nos teus a cada chegada tua…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;e eu aqui, no balão de ar quente à espera de uma nuvem destapada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;enquanto a flôr no jardim liberta um sorriso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Não sentes? Não ouves? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Este caminhar, estes passos ao lado dos teus, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;percorrendo dunas de luar, varridas eternamente pelo vento quente?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;São meus... sempre meus...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sinto-te aqui, toco-te a mão, beijo-te…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;e é quando fechamos os olhos que acordamos juntos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mauro Rodrigues(09.10.2005 - 19:03)&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/6811576-113015114580562705?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/113015114580562705/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=113015114580562705' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/113015114580562705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/113015114580562705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2005/10/inquietao-enquanto-chuva-cai-l-fora.html' title='Inquietação (enquanto a chuva cai lá fora)'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-112794507402265516</id><published>2005-09-28T23:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-09-28T23:07:13.093+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A vontade na terra do nunca</title><content type='html'>quando existe algo de errado?&lt;br /&gt;quando estamos deslocados, escalvados, calados?&lt;br /&gt;quando sentimos o puxar de qualquer coisa...&lt;br /&gt;vontade, raiva, sonhos...&lt;br /&gt;será que deveremos padecer á inércia que teima em ficar?!&lt;br /&gt;Revolta-te... mexe-te... faz.... seduz....&lt;br /&gt;levanta a cabeça e alimenta-te... procura os outros.. as suas energias... boas disposições, saberes. É aí que aprendes...&lt;br /&gt;Cada sorriso que imanas verte uma esperança...&lt;br /&gt;Cada lágrima escorrida seca com a vontade e desejo...&lt;br /&gt;Estás lá... estas a chegar lá....&lt;br /&gt;mas ainda falta um ultimo passo...&lt;br /&gt;talvez o mais importante...&lt;br /&gt;ACREDITAR é a a palavra de ordem numa desordem de pesamentos e sentidos...&lt;br /&gt;procura bem dentro de ti o que te chama... o que te puxa... o que te mostra...&lt;br /&gt;fecha os olhos para os abrires para o mundo... ele esta mesmo aqui... mesmo aqui...&lt;br /&gt;inspira-te em cada rosto, em cada gesto, em cada vontade demolidora...&lt;br /&gt;acaba o que tens pendente e vai... salta... VIVE...&lt;br /&gt;nada mais importa...&lt;br /&gt;estás lá... estás quase lá...&lt;br /&gt;estou lá... estou quase lá...&lt;br /&gt;vou avançar... vou saltar...&lt;br /&gt;vou subir... sorrir....&lt;br /&gt;voar... cantar.... tocar... acreditar...&lt;br /&gt;estou lá... estou quase lá...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;procura a voz que te chama e faz vibrar........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vai...&lt;br /&gt;vou...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fui...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-112794507402265516?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/112794507402265516/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=112794507402265516' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/112794507402265516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/112794507402265516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2005/09/vontade-na-terra-do-nunca.html' title='A vontade na terra do nunca'/><author><name>Miguel Costa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-112439191810350175</id><published>2005-08-18T20:03:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-08-18T20:05:18.110+01:00</updated><title type='text'>escreve para mim...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Há tanto tempo que não escreves para mim...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;enquanto oiço essa voz susurrando-me a memória&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;enquanto sinto a brisa dos teus sonhos na minha pele, os suspiros das tuas incertezas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;As palavras que guardas para ti ou aquelas que riscas nos teus cadernos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;As dúvidas...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;essas caíram no meu jardim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;enquanto eu dormia, tentava sonhar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;um eterno aprendiz das escolhas que faço, do espaço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;do laço que desfaço ao mínimo embaraço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;era assim no passado...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Agora...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;agora percorro mil dunas, mil praias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;para olhar-te nos olhos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;ver o sol ficar maior quando estás no horizonte das mãos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;querer correr mais que o tempo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;num mar que guarda mistérios.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Diz-me o que vês aqui? Diz-me o que pensas?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;O que sente o teu coração?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Oiço um "gosto de ti" em gritos internos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;oiço um "fica mais um pouco" no sorriso inocente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;oiço "saudades" nos salpicos de chuva&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;oiço um "preciso de ti" nas noites sem lua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;e o que eu não oiço, sinto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-112439191810350175?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/112439191810350175/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=112439191810350175' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/112439191810350175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/112439191810350175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2005/08/escreve-para-mim.html' title='escreve para mim...'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-112008113185821136</id><published>2005-06-29T22:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-06-29T22:38:51.863+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ecos da noite</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;São passos silenciosos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;estes que eu dou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;num silêncio vazio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;num rumor ao desafio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Fastio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;O silêncio caiu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;O pano desceu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;A noite subiu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;não havia nada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;apenas uma estrada molhada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;e passos vazios.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Noite; silêncio. Nada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Lua morta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Bato forte os pés no chão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Grito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Aflito de aflição.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Não há vazio. Eco.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;O silêncio quebrado num uivo estrangulado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Saiu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Encolher de ombros.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Olhar de lado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&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/6811576-112008113185821136?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/112008113185821136/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=112008113185821136' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/112008113185821136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/112008113185821136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2005/06/ecos-da-noite.html' title='Ecos da noite'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-111952526551988440</id><published>2005-06-23T12:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-06-23T12:14:25.523+01:00</updated><title type='text'>à luz da nossa vida...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Segredos contados, palavras caladas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;amigos extraviados, fotografias rasgadas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;papéis amassados, manhãs de domingo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;ruas de pedra, poeira na estrada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;gritos de raios que não dizem nada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;linhas escritas em dias de chuva&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;na fonte a saída, essência da vida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&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/6811576-111952526551988440?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/111952526551988440/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=111952526551988440' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/111952526551988440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/111952526551988440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2005/06/luz-da-nossa-vida.html' title='à luz da nossa vida...'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-111939164285453611</id><published>2005-06-21T23:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-06-21T23:07:42.116+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O "íssimo" que nós fomos!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;(talvez a história não tenha acabado)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Não dava mais para disfarçar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tudo fazia lembrar-te&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;uma inspiração especial para escrever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;aquelas cores quentes em frutos tropicais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;o "verdão" dos olhos ao olhar-te com toda a minha luz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;os sabores doces nas nossas bocas salgadas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;a lua era a luz do teu olhar, no nosso abrigo aluarado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;de uma luz que se debruçou em mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pedidos que fizemos ao mar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;falar-te ao ouvido, sorrir contigo ao som do "pato donald"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Na escuridão o teu olhar iluminava-me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Aquela minha estrela-guia era o teu sorriso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dar por nós a suspirar, sem perceber&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dei por mim a respirar o ar que eras tu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ouvir os pássaros cantar lá fora para nós&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Em cada solidão vencida eu desejava&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;O reencontro com o teu corpo abrigo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ah! Minha adorada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Viajei tantos espaços&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Cabes assim no meu abraço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Acordar com sorrisos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ter o dia todo para ver-te&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um furacão surgiu no coração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sem ter licença para entrar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tempestade de desejos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um beijo molhado de luz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Selava o nosso amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mais uma tempestade de mel para adoçar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um eclipse no final de um beijo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Uma estação, um inverno, uma primavera, um verão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um raio de sol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Que aquecia e tentava tirar o medo que teimava em desaparecer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;De enfrentar os riscos, da rápida entrega&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Desejo de envelhecer querendo abraçar-te&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sem prender-te a nada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Davas por ti agarrada à corda a partilhar a bola dos sonhos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ainda te vejo olhar para mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ainda sinto a tua mão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Uma lenda de paixão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Fez sorrir e fez chorar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dedilhar numa viola&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Uma canção para te embalar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;script&gt;&lt;!-- D(["mb","&lt;span class="sg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;",0] ); D(["ce"]); D(["ms","399"] );  //--&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" class="sg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-111939164285453611?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/111939164285453611/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=111939164285453611' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/111939164285453611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/111939164285453611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2005/06/o-ssimo-que-ns-fomos_21.html' title='O &quot;íssimo&quot; que nós fomos!'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-111634841285338864</id><published>2005-05-17T17:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-17T17:46:52.860+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Metamorfose</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Por momentos olho o rasto de nós&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;num suspiro da saudade ofegante dos pulmões do coração...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;sorrio quando vejo que as letras tomaram fôlego e alçaram o sonhado vôo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;quando vejo que todo o começo tem uma porta entreaberta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;que ao olhar distraído parecia fechada...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;...uma janela de paisagens distintas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;...um olhar que convida o toque.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;...um doce fulgor de inocência.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quando vejo que todo o começo tem uma certeza.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;De que uma mão estendida sorri.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;De que as almas sentem-se tocadas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Todo começo tem uma esperança.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Própria.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Idílica.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eterna...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Transforma-se o tempo em vontades&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;de nascentes que encontramos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;que transformamos e mostramos no nosso lado mais puro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;e a verdade passa a estar no fundo do copo cheio do que se quer ser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;onde se encontra sem se procurar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;pedaços de sonhos em gotas de chuva&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;que nos molham a roupa, a cara, a alma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;no nosso beijo efervescente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Vem saciar-me os segredos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;sussurra-me o que dizes não estar preparado para ouvir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;aquelas coisas que eu não oiço na surdez do paladar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;vais ter de dizer, de sorrir, de despir o que tenho a mais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;e transformar a minha pele na nossa pele...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;...Noites e sonhos transformados...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;...embriagados de saudades e luas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&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/6811576-111634841285338864?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/111634841285338864/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=111634841285338864' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/111634841285338864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/111634841285338864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2005/05/metamorfose.html' title='Metamorfose'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-111551210950088013</id><published>2005-05-08T01:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-05-08T01:30:06.253+01:00</updated><title type='text'>"C'um Caneco"</title><content type='html'>Olho para ti com distância mas perco-me por completo na deliciosa simplicidade da tua perfeição... Perco-me nas palavras de uma conversa que me leva longe... observo e navego nos teus labios... e que labios esses que carecem de beijos.... e como te enchia de beijos... Ai se não estivesse imune a ti estaria agora sufocado de saudades e vontades, despertas e sedentas de um&lt;br /&gt;simples toque na tua pele... Ai se não estivesse imune estaria rendido a esse olhar que apenas procura um porto de abrigo....&lt;br /&gt;mas se estou imune porque escrevo agora?&lt;br /&gt;com esta é que me lixei!&lt;br /&gt;C'um caneco&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-111551210950088013?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/111551210950088013/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=111551210950088013' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/111551210950088013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/111551210950088013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2005/05/cum-caneco.html' title='&quot;C&apos;um Caneco&quot;'/><author><name>Miguel Costa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-111384038576600028</id><published>2005-04-18T17:03:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-04-18T17:08:09.880+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sem razão...</title><content type='html'>Vento que sopra na cara&lt;br /&gt;anuncia-me o caminho&lt;br /&gt;como um grito que prende, desprende&lt;br /&gt;que me entrega o destino&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;onde a simplicidade se esconde&lt;br /&gt;procuro-te em mim&lt;br /&gt;perante um mar de vontade&lt;br /&gt;que ilumina a saudade&lt;br /&gt;eu sou igual a ti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esqueço tudo e todos&lt;br /&gt;em palavras sem razão&lt;br /&gt;nos teus desenhos de sonhos,&lt;br /&gt;desejos que marcam&lt;br /&gt;onde me dás a mão&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-111384038576600028?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/111384038576600028/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=111384038576600028' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/111384038576600028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/111384038576600028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2005/04/sem-razo.html' title='Sem razão...'/><author><name>Miguel Costa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-111365132546286615</id><published>2005-04-16T12:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-04-16T14:17:51.283+01:00</updated><title type='text'>E = mc2</title><content type='html'>Neste mundo pequeno demais&lt;br /&gt;está dificil encontrar-te....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-111365132546286615?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/111365132546286615/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=111365132546286615' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/111365132546286615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/111365132546286615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2005/04/e-mc2.html' title='E = mc2'/><author><name>Miguel Costa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-111365058466900995</id><published>2005-04-16T12:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2005-04-18T17:45:52.786+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Menina do Bar</title><content type='html'>Noite fria e espessa&lt;br /&gt;onde derivo sem problema&lt;br /&gt;procuro apenas um porto de abrigo&lt;br /&gt;onde posso descansar e deliberar&lt;br /&gt;o caminho, sorrindo...&lt;br /&gt;Subitamente, como um trovão&lt;br /&gt;descargas violentamente toda a tua gentileza&lt;br /&gt;num turbilhão de sensualidade e emoção&lt;br /&gt;deixando-me padecido perante o confronto do teu olhar,&lt;br /&gt;inocente e frágil.&lt;br /&gt;Sem consciência, hipnotizas-me com a tua simplicidade e carinho&lt;br /&gt;Sem olhares, desesperas-me por mais um fugaz encontro&lt;br /&gt;quase sem quereres, tens-me por completo&lt;br /&gt;mas o tempo passa e afastas-te,&lt;br /&gt;decidida e aventureira&lt;br /&gt;aquecendo e iluminando&lt;br /&gt;um mundo que te quer e onde não passo de mais um simpático&lt;br /&gt;rapaz que rapidamente se desvanece&lt;br /&gt;na multidão...&lt;br /&gt;e onde não passo mais do que uma&lt;br /&gt;ténue memória nesta noite fria e espessa onde tento descansar...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-111365058466900995?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/111365058466900995/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=111365058466900995' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/111365058466900995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/111365058466900995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2005/04/menina-do-bar.html' title='Menina do Bar'/><author><name>Miguel Costa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-110817893959624212</id><published>2005-02-12T03:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-02-12T03:28:59.603Z</updated><title type='text'>Película metafórica</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Um poema cresce inseguramente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;em explosões rimáticas de versos abalados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;por metáforas que lutam contra o tempo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;podia ser tudo isso, ou nada disso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;mas não afirmo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;as palavras viriam revelar-me tudo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;não me revelo nas palavras, dou-me a revelar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;e prefiro confundir-me nesta angústia de não saber de quê&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;olho, procuro, revelo-te as minhas palavras desamparadas e desertas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;enquanto tacteio nos teus braços a navegação segura&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;de um cais onde o silêncio fascina...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;estas mãos perdidas num bailado erótico&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;tendo como cenário os astros mudos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;pelo embalar dos nossos gestos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;deixa que os caminhos da noite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;sejam os caminhos dos poetas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;deixa que as nossas mãos se percam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;que os dedos ganhem asas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;vem comigo ver o céu, ver de perto estas estrelas que nos olham&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;a minha vida é perfumada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;pela dança do teu andar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;inebriado pelo amor, in amorado,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;busco apenas a morada, sem prefixo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;vejo em ti o verso puro e seguro...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;o sonho calado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;o coração silenciado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;pela chama onde arde a incerteza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;e de repente...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;o sono e o cansaço subiram-me á boca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;mas hoje não vou correr à velocidade da minha solidão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;sempre quis ser um Homem menos que nada e mais que tudo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;contudo esta melancolia nas asas e na mão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;desespera...e sinto...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;um coração sem metafísica.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;entre sinais de um voo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;de metáforas que cantam a sua escrita&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;rebenta-me a palavra que a asa quer escrever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;tentei guardar na pele a luz da tinta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;é aí que as palavras ardem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;mas foi na asa que a palavra rebentou...em verso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Oh Noite! Se o espectáculo findou...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;deixa-me também dormir...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;...mas tu...vem voar comigo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;neste tapete que vai partir para o infinito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;esta ou uma noite qualquer!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-110817893959624212?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/110817893959624212/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=110817893959624212' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/110817893959624212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/110817893959624212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2005/02/pelcula-metafrica.html' title='Película metafórica'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-110650051245761065</id><published>2005-01-23T17:11:00.000Z</published><updated>2005-01-23T17:15:12.456Z</updated><title type='text'>Ensaio sobre a noite</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;entre o caos e o conflito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;a vontade e a desordem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;a calma dança na batida mais forte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;em luzes de presença&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;corridas em contra-mão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;sorrisos em contra-luz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;fazendo o nosso amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;entre o amor dos outros...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;estava escrito no diário imaginário&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;eu, ali...de súbito inocente, indefeso, sem motivo, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;numa cascata de gemidos magoados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;de cara transtornada como se fosse chorar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;onde a chave era o sucesso de um final feliz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;entre a sórdida mistura das memórias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;de tantas sensações contraditórias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;a cúmplice partilha nas histórias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;de frases insensatas, incensórias;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;com imprevistos e caprichos que me escapam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;a cobardia da procura nos lençóis quentes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;a mais sombria razão de encantamento e de desprezo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;foi num cenário feito para o beijo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;em corpos inundados de desejo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;sorrisos que brilham no escuro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;ensaios químicos do que ficou...evaporou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;onde tudo começou e tudo acabou.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-110650051245761065?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/110650051245761065/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=110650051245761065' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/110650051245761065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/110650051245761065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2005/01/ensaio-sobre-noite.html' title='Ensaio sobre a noite'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-110408412094542478</id><published>2004-12-26T17:56:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-12-26T18:02:00.946Z</updated><title type='text'>Labirinto</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nem sabes se grito por socorro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;ou se te mostro só que me inebrias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;amiga amor amante amada eu morro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;desta vida que me dás todos os dias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;a noite escuta o que me sai, sem voz, do coração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;perfeita como a linha que desenha a imperfeição&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;pois esqueço que os dedos têm ossos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;é só de sangue esta carícia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;pois é tão negro o labirinto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;que vai dar meta à tua rua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;pois vejo em mim que nem pressinto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;a cor do ombro amigo desta Lua!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;pois tens agora a mão fechada;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;vejo o teu rosto...nenhum fulgor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;não foi nada, não foi nada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;mas podia ter sido amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;quero-te ouvir calada,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;a luz arde entre os lábios&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;o amor não contempla,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;o amor procura, tacteia no escuro,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;essa perna é tua? esse braço?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;subo por ti de ramo em ramo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;como criança que constrói casa numa àrvore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;respiro rente á tua boca,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;abre-se a alma à língua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;morreria agora se me pedisses para dormir,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;nunca o amor foi fácil, nunca,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;também a terra morre e nem sempre morre a sorrir &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;vem tu poema, vem agora conduzir-me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;à beira desse cais onde o amor nascia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;serei dos que afinal, errando em terra firme,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;precisam de Amor, de Mar, ou de Poesia? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-110408412094542478?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/110408412094542478/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=110408412094542478' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/110408412094542478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/110408412094542478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/12/labirinto.html' title='Labirinto'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-110356192753133376</id><published>2004-12-20T16:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-12-20T16:58:47.533Z</updated><title type='text'>Nuvem por um tempo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tentei fugir do tempo mas o tempo fez-se em mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;fui escurecendo o céu que olhavas, fiz-me em nuvem...para ti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;tentando libertar, não me libertei, não me libertaram&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;porque o meu mal era ver que eu ia bem...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;vou contar a minha história temporal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;para tu veres o lado claro do meu dia mau...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;olho para cima, vejo a velha amiga, aparece sempre assim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;vejo a nuvem em negra carga, amarga, a par do fim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;mas sinto que hoje o tempo vai mudar...para mim!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;porque eu já chorei essa chuva que trazes contigo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;porque eu já mostrei o lado negro que trago comigo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;deixa ver a luz quente e sorridente que escondes por detrás dessa dor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;sinto que hoje vou ter o calor desse amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;sinto que hoje o tempo vai mudar...para mim!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;este desejo ancorado vai ditar o rumo da razão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;porque sabes...tenho andado a pensar em nós&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;já que os teus pés não descolam do chão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;sou eu que tenho voado...pelo menos enquanto as asas deixarem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;deixo o medo à cabeceira, a saudade para trás&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;deixo o presente no ausente, esta nuvem para trás&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;vou tentar andar p'ra frente para não cair p'ra trás&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;porque hoje sinto que o tempo vai mudar...para mim!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-110356192753133376?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/110356192753133376/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=110356192753133376' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/110356192753133376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/110356192753133376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/12/nuvem-por-um-tempo.html' title='Nuvem por um tempo'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-110261885171142018</id><published>2004-12-09T18:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-12-20T17:01:43.190Z</updated><title type='text'>A dor antes da ferida</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Foste frase perdida na noite escura&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;foste memória esquecida no terror da loucura&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;foste doçura ancorada no cais da amargura&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;tu foste a noite guiada ao sabor d'aventura&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;pois em segredo continuo a amar-te,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;sei que a morada do segredo encontra-se nas sombras dessa rua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;naquele lugar açucarado pelo sangue...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;tento lembrar a vírgula na maré, o pormenor na areia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;ora revolvendo o mar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;ora repousando-o, cintilante e inebriante&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;na periferia salgada dos teus lábios&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;em murmúrios aquosos e submersos, lascivos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;mergulhos nas águas do olhar que verte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e inunda o corpo numa sincronização&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;com o mundo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;porém...conheço a solidão de quem permanece acordado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;quase sempre estendido ao lado do sono &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;pressente o suave esvoaçar da idade &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;ergue-se para o espelho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;tentando esconder o que vê na sombra do reflexo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;neste fim atiro-me ao poema&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;como se fosse um abismo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;transformo o sonho num dilema&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;faço um filho ás palavras&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;na cama do romantismo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;...destino quente o do abismo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;que me aquece estas noites frias &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;vou deixar-me morrer lento, no lento morrer destes dias...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-110261885171142018?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/110261885171142018/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=110261885171142018' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/110261885171142018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/110261885171142018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/12/dor-antes-da-ferida.html' title='A dor antes da ferida'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-110175096192511924</id><published>2004-11-29T17:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-11-29T17:56:01.926Z</updated><title type='text'>Núvem Ténue</title><content type='html'>Fugaz olhar me deleitaste,&lt;br /&gt;tão simples e ténue que quase nem reparei,&lt;br /&gt;quase nem dei conta.&lt;br /&gt;Sem querer, dei por mim afogado, inerte,&lt;br /&gt;preso por uma fracção,&lt;br /&gt;num encontro que para ti foi acaso&lt;br /&gt;mas que tão desesperadamente esperava.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Num grito mudo tentei chamar&lt;br /&gt;para mim uma ponta da tua magia, do teu calor,&lt;br /&gt;tentei procurar, tal como o significado do teu nome,&lt;br /&gt;um pouco da tua perfeição, da tua solidão.&lt;br /&gt;Tentei dar-te um pouco de mim, e sem resposta&lt;br /&gt;padeço á luz da tua simplicidade, que tão fragilmente&lt;br /&gt;vagueias por aí.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sem força arranjei coragem, alimentando-me&lt;br /&gt;apenas pela vontade de não quere sair.&lt;br /&gt;Estou bem, quase tão bem que falei.&lt;br /&gt;Mas não me ouviste, fugiste sem saber.&lt;br /&gt;Tentei, conformado do destino, um novo sentido&lt;br /&gt;mas em vao... desviaste o olhar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fiquei assim parado, bem á tua frente sem saber&lt;br /&gt;o que dizer, sem saber o que perguntar,&lt;br /&gt;apenas ciente que estou desarmado,&lt;br /&gt;rendido ao teu encanto, espanto, do qual&lt;br /&gt;agradeço.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fugaz olhar me deleitaste,&lt;br /&gt;tão simples e ténue que quase nem reparei.&lt;br /&gt;Talvez um dia nos encontremos novamente, mesmo&lt;br /&gt;por breves momentos, como uma núvem em dias de verão,&lt;br /&gt;que evapora no calor do amor....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-110175096192511924?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/110175096192511924/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=110175096192511924' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/110175096192511924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/110175096192511924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/11/nvem-tnue.html' title='Núvem Ténue'/><author><name>Miguel Costa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-110072992126020573</id><published>2004-11-17T22:13:00.000Z</published><updated>2004-11-17T22:18:41.260Z</updated><title type='text'>Foi tão somente...de repente</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Foi de repente que da calma fez-se o vento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;(...)que dos olhos desfez-se a última chama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;(...)que da paixão fez-se o pressentimento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;(...)que do momento imóvel fez-se o drama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Foi de repente, não mais que de repente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;fez-se de triste o que se fez de amante&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e de sozinho o que se fez contente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Fez-se do amigo próximo o distante&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;fez-se da vida uma aventura errante&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;foi de repente, não mais que de repente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E foi assim, uma dia: um certo dia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Estavamos nós contemplando o poente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;sentimos no rosto de repente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;o beijo leve de uma aragem fria&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E aí, somente de repente...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;a vontade de partir contente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;contra a vontade de ficar poente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;o tempo de dizer adeus...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;presente, onde o amor vai morrendo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;onde nós vamos dizendo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;que sentimos que o amor morreu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;partimos pela vida fora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;refletimos na lágrima&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;vivendo o momento breve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;de uma estrela pura&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;cuja luz morreu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;sem eu ver...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-110072992126020573?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/110072992126020573/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=110072992126020573' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/110072992126020573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/110072992126020573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/11/foi-to-somentede-repente.html' title='Foi tão somente...de repente'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-109640876101374756</id><published>2004-09-28T22:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-28T23:00:14.936+01:00</updated><title type='text'>quero ter asas que voam!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mostrei-te...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;as mãos vazias,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;as mãos como os meus dias,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;tão leves e banais.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pedi calor no chão gelado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;um beijo apertado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;entre silêncios sempre iguais...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sinto que as mãos são asas,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;que tudo o resto é céu,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;porque uma asa voa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;a cada beijo teu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sinto o vento na cara&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;como a primeira vez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;num tempo que é só meu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Abraçei-te...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;como se abraça o tempo,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;a vida num momento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;em gestos nunca iguais.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Parti no longo rio do destino&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;não decorei o caminho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;entre caminhos nunca iguais...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Foi na viagem que lembrei o teu perfume&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;de tantas noites mais... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Já cansado voltei no seu curso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;revi o meu percurso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e perdi-me a oeste&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;a minha alma renasceu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;com as flores de algodão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;no coração do agreste...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;...e fiz de uma saudade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;a felicidade p'ra voltar aqui!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-109640876101374756?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/109640876101374756/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=109640876101374756' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/109640876101374756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/109640876101374756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/09/quero-ter-asas-que-voam.html' title='quero ter asas que voam!'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-109412727095207437</id><published>2004-09-02T13:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-09-06T16:19:26.093+01:00</updated><title type='text'>... Por Ti</title><content type='html'>quando o amor nos bate á porta&lt;br /&gt;cada metro percorrido assemelha-se a uma estrada sem fim,&lt;br /&gt;cada pedra encontrada perfura, sem dôr, um&lt;br /&gt;peito desprotegido, ficando o peso&lt;br /&gt;que carregamos sem olhar para trás&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quando o amor nos abre os olhos&lt;br /&gt;vemos magias e purezas, amarguras e tristesas,&lt;br /&gt;vemos tudo, vemos nada, vemos o que nos mostram&lt;br /&gt;aplificado por mil, mil vezes mais brilho&lt;br /&gt;brilho docemente ofuscante que nos mostra o caminho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quando o amor nos leva alto&lt;br /&gt;vemos nuvens de prazer que tão docemente&lt;br /&gt;nos envolvem sem nada mais pedir&lt;br /&gt;como um quente cobertor que nos aquece&lt;br /&gt;em noites frias prometendo resguardo divino&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e quando o amor nos larga?&lt;br /&gt;essa estrada tão desejada acaba numa curva impossivel onde&lt;br /&gt;as pedras que carrego no peito deixam chagas que sangram&lt;br /&gt;a alma que por ti parece procurar, olhando para trás para tentar ver,&lt;br /&gt;encontrando um vazio, aplificado por mil, mil vezes mais brilho,&lt;br /&gt;brilho amargamente verdadeiro que me impede voltar atrás,&lt;br /&gt;ficando apenas uma nuvem cinzenta que por ti chora e me arrefece o coração.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e se o amor voltar?&lt;br /&gt;este coração gelado e marcado que tenta resistir..... não resiste.... por ti....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luís Catalo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-109412727095207437?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/109412727095207437/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=109412727095207437' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/109412727095207437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/109412727095207437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/09/por-ti.html' title='... Por Ti'/><author><name>Miguel Costa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-109344847712091885</id><published>2004-08-25T16:32:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-08-25T16:41:17.120+01:00</updated><title type='text'>fazer Amar</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Procuro encontrar-te no verbo amar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;trago à tona tantas noites, tantos versos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;guardados nesta arca escondida debaixo do chão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;entre a poeira dos sonhos e a ruína dos amores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Encontrei a noite perfeita...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;...vem partilhar comigo este céu estrelado...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;...nem que seja esta a nossa última história...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;ficarão na memória as imagens, os odores, outras arcas escondidas...ficará a saudade!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;ficará algo que foi, que podemos guardar, não o que poderia ter sido&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;o que nos faz parar no tempo, o que nos prende ao chão...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;porque se fosse noite por noite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;não se via o que eu sabia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;mas de noite a cada noite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;vislumbra-se um novo dia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;se de luz teu ser é bem claro...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;se de saudade se atormenta a minha dor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;prefiro viver-te à noite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;e lembrar no dia o teu amor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;...mas melhor, melhor que o amor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;só mesmo fazer amar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-109344847712091885?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/109344847712091885/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=109344847712091885' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/109344847712091885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/109344847712091885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/08/fazer-amar.html' title='fazer Amar'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-109217951601668670</id><published>2004-08-11T12:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-08-11T13:51:04.450+01:00</updated><title type='text'>tu és o poema...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Uma poeira laranja invade devagar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;este fim de tarde onde a lua ganhar côr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;enquanto o dia entra pela noite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;abro a gaveta, descubro a rima perfeita e...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;faço-te poema...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;esta brisa leva-me os cansaços&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;esta brisa traz-me a tua ausência&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;onde tu és o poema...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;porque este amor que eu sinto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;é um labirinto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;só assim me pinto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;neste amor que eu sinto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;neste vaivém de solidão,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;onde com silêncio fala,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;com "voz de móvel que estala"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;que nos perturba a razão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;quando a angústia embaciar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;de tédio os olhos vidrados...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;...os vidros no chão pisados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;não me vão fazer parar!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;...farto de voar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;pouso as palavras no chão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;onde te fiz poema...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&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/6811576-109217951601668670?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/109217951601668670/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=109217951601668670' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/109217951601668670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/109217951601668670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/08/tu-s-o-poema.html' title='tu és o poema...'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-108845590146121484</id><published>2004-06-28T21:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-06-28T21:51:41.460+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Movimento Sentido </title><content type='html'>Procuro o sentido do Movimento &lt;br /&gt;Procuro a mágica capacidade de renascer e transformar &lt;br /&gt;Procuro mais um ciclo de invenção, de criação, de aventura, de vento &lt;br /&gt;Procuro despir, suar, riscar, rasgar, gritar, correr, discordar, lavar, respirar &lt;br /&gt;procuro exclamar, exclamar..exclamar AMOR &lt;br /&gt;PROCURO O SENTIDO MOVIMENTO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patrícia Oliveira&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-108845590146121484?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/108845590146121484/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=108845590146121484' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108845590146121484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108845590146121484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/06/movimento-sentido.html' title='Movimento Sentido '/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-108825702076124592</id><published>2004-06-26T14:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-06-26T14:37:00.760+01:00</updated><title type='text'>chaves do destino</title><content type='html'>Assaltaram-me os sentidos&lt;br /&gt;levaram-me as cinzas do passado&lt;br /&gt;que sinto na brisa desta tarde de junho&lt;br /&gt;relembrada pela sombra do vento&lt;br /&gt;que percorre a folha seca pelo tempo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sufoco em espirros de ilusões&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;olho estes braços vazios que te esperam&lt;br /&gt;são vidas que não vivi, caminhos que não escolhi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;usaste as armas certas em tempos certos&lt;br /&gt;entre disparos de olhares e sorrisos&lt;br /&gt;neste corpo abalado e exposto&lt;br /&gt;sem fuga às balas perdidas&lt;br /&gt;...tocaste-me o coração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...não mais a preto e branco serão&lt;br /&gt;as páginas da minha vida por descobrir,&lt;br /&gt;tu estás aqui para as colorir!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mas...vais ter de cortar amarras&lt;br /&gt;subir escadas na mais escura das escuridões&lt;br /&gt;alcançado o alçapão, não desistas&lt;br /&gt;não fiques com medo de o abrir...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...eu vou lá estar para te sorrir!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-108825702076124592?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/108825702076124592/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=108825702076124592' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108825702076124592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108825702076124592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/06/chaves-do-destino.html' title='chaves do destino'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-108516726384016996</id><published>2004-05-21T20:19:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-21T20:21:03.840+01:00</updated><title type='text'>::g:e:l:o::</title><content type='html'>Anseio pelo primeiro beijo&lt;br /&gt;pelo primeiro toque entre as nossas almas&lt;br /&gt;evitas-me de uma forma fugaz&lt;br /&gt;não sei se o que temes...é não te conseguires conter&lt;br /&gt;alheio tento romper a tua inocência&lt;br /&gt;tento rasgar a tua timidez&lt;br /&gt;porquê fingir?&lt;br /&gt;porquê fugir?&lt;br /&gt;porquê ter medo...de perder?&lt;br /&gt;mas olha que quem não se perde...&lt;br /&gt;cai no labirinto da hipótese...&lt;br /&gt;ainda não te consegui entender...&lt;br /&gt;mas ao mesmo tempo gosto disso...&lt;br /&gt;quando procuro enfrentar-te&lt;br /&gt;refugias-te no teu íntimo&lt;br /&gt;tento, mas não consigo...&lt;br /&gt;não consigo quebrar essa barreira&lt;br /&gt;sei que por detrás dessa cortina fria&lt;br /&gt;escondes o máximo de teu calor&lt;br /&gt;consigo ver isso, ou melhor, sinto isso...o que é mais importante&lt;br /&gt;um sonho? talvez...não!&lt;br /&gt;já te perdias, não?&lt;br /&gt;cada vez com mais vontade continuo...e continuarei a tentar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...até esse teu gelo quebrar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-108516726384016996?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/108516726384016996/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=108516726384016996' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108516726384016996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108516726384016996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/05/gelo.html' title='::g:e:l:o::'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-108481182573035913</id><published>2004-05-17T17:34:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-17T17:37:05.730+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Porquê?</title><content type='html'>porque...somos ausentes...&lt;br /&gt;porque...somos diferentes...&lt;br /&gt;no que pensamos e falamos&lt;br /&gt;no que procuramos e alcançamos&lt;br /&gt;porque...somos iguais...&lt;br /&gt;nos olhares e nos sorrisos&lt;br /&gt;porque...somos iguais...&lt;br /&gt;no que sentimos e não dizemos...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;porque...uma cegueira arde, incendiando o tempo&lt;br /&gt;porque...espero um mar que me apague o calor&lt;br /&gt;deste amor...&lt;br /&gt;mas escolho o mar ao rio, nestas àguas&lt;br /&gt;porque os rios não me sossegam&lt;br /&gt;levam sonhos, deixam mágoas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...nesta áspera dor que teima em picar-me a alma&lt;br /&gt;soberano mergulhar no inexplorável...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mas é tão doce morrer neste mar&lt;br /&gt;em vão lembrar e nunca esquecer&lt;br /&gt;porque...se eu tivesse mais alma p'ra dar&lt;br /&gt;eu daria, porque isto para mim é vida...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..porque...por esta água tão pura &lt;br /&gt;vale a pena viver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-108481182573035913?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/108481182573035913/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=108481182573035913' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108481182573035913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108481182573035913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/05/porqu.html' title='Porquê?'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-108480120418748186</id><published>2004-05-17T14:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-17T14:40:04.186+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Plenitude crepuscular</title><content type='html'>O sonho de uma noite quente, rompendo pela madrugada. &lt;br /&gt;O perfume a maravilha &lt;br /&gt;A efemeridade de uma estrela que chove no escuro &lt;br /&gt;Ao longe duas sombras &lt;br /&gt;Amam-se perdidamente num desejo apaixonado &lt;br /&gt;O êxtase sublime &lt;br /&gt;Percorre os seus corpos como se de gelo se tratasse &lt;br /&gt;Um grito de prazer &lt;br /&gt;Ecoa no bosque vazio de luz &lt;br /&gt;Uma faísca brilhante &lt;br /&gt;Salta o orvalho que transborda o corpo molhado &lt;br /&gt;A lua vai alta &lt;br /&gt;Procura o som de algo esquecido na bruma nocturna &lt;br /&gt;Solta-se um raio &lt;br /&gt;O primeiro de um dia de Primavera. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patricia Oliveira&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-108480120418748186?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/108480120418748186/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=108480120418748186' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108480120418748186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108480120418748186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/05/plenitude-crepuscular.html' title='Plenitude crepuscular'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-108420020104045167</id><published>2004-05-10T15:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-10T15:43:21.040+01:00</updated><title type='text'>sonho à média-luz</title><content type='html'>Tens em ti qualquer coisa que revela&lt;br /&gt;a miragem do amor que me seduz&lt;br /&gt;nos teus lábios...&lt;br /&gt;um poema que traduz em beijos&lt;br /&gt;a mais simples aguarela&lt;br /&gt;deste sonho à média luz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;neste sonho vou ser pássaro&lt;br /&gt;vou voar pelo teu corpo&lt;br /&gt;nesta noite quero ser vento&lt;br /&gt;p'ra pousar no teu cabelo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pela tua vida faço o meu viver&lt;br /&gt;talvez eu me consiga encontrar&lt;br /&gt;só para não te perder...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...ser o teu amor secreto&lt;br /&gt;o teu poema predilecto&lt;br /&gt;é isso que eu quero ser...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sim...sonha comigo a sonhar contigo&lt;br /&gt;mas sonha...&lt;br /&gt;que estou a sonhar contigo&lt;br /&gt;volta a sonhar...&lt;br /&gt;que eu quero-te ver sonhar no meu sonho&lt;br /&gt;sonho este beijo que não encontro&lt;br /&gt;sonho esta palavra que não sei escrever&lt;br /&gt;mas espera...&lt;br /&gt;tenho que acordar para te dizer&lt;br /&gt;como é este meu sonho&lt;br /&gt;como tu és em mim...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...em cada noite vazio&lt;br /&gt;destes sonhos...&lt;br /&gt;deste sono...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-108420020104045167?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/108420020104045167/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=108420020104045167' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108420020104045167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108420020104045167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/05/sonho-mdia-luz.html' title='sonho à média-luz'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-108360509052384028</id><published>2004-05-03T18:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-05-03T18:33:23.233+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sem dizer nada.....</title><content type='html'> &lt;br /&gt;Não disse o que disse por dizer,&lt;br /&gt;mas quem diz o que eu disse&lt;br /&gt;não é capaz de dizer o que gostaria de dizer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não disse o que disse por dizer,&lt;br /&gt;mas sem o saber, disse.&lt;br /&gt;Disse para saber o que não queria dizer&lt;br /&gt;mas não disse por dizer, &lt;br /&gt;disse apenas por não saber o que digo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luís Catalo&lt;br /&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-108360509052384028?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/108360509052384028/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=108360509052384028' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108360509052384028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108360509052384028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/05/sem-dizer-nada.html' title='Sem dizer nada.....'/><author><name>Miguel Costa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-108301004372884359</id><published>2004-04-26T21:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-26T21:11:37.106+01:00</updated><title type='text'>À luz da utopia (26.04.04)</title><content type='html'>À luz dos teus olhos mentirosos  &lt;br /&gt;vigora ainda o mais rigoroso amor  &lt;br /&gt;à luz dos teus ombros perfeitos &lt;br /&gt;vive uma angústia já purificada &lt;br /&gt;pela nascente de uma velha dor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;à luz desta noite ou de uma noite qualquer...&lt;br /&gt;talvez eu queira um verso que não há!... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;neste destino destinado ao fracasso...  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;queria jardins onde luzes de aventuras recomeçam...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;onde há palavras que nos beijam&lt;br /&gt;como se tivessem boca&lt;br /&gt;susurram versos de amor&lt;br /&gt;o nome do nosso amor&lt;br /&gt;letra a letra revelado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;à luz desta vírgula maníaca,&lt;br /&gt;digo-te adeus  &lt;br /&gt;e como um adolescente  &lt;br /&gt;tropeço de ternura  &lt;br /&gt;por ti...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-108301004372884359?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/108301004372884359/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=108301004372884359' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108301004372884359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108301004372884359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/04/luz-da-utopia-260404.html' title='À luz da utopia (26.04.04)'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-108300361890252943</id><published>2004-04-26T19:19:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-26T19:24:31.996+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Estrela da Tarde</title><content type='html'>poema de Ary dos Santos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Era a tarde mais longa de todas as tardes que me acontecia&lt;br /&gt;Eu esperava por ti, tu não vinhas, tardavas e eu entardecia&lt;br /&gt;Era tarde, tão tarde, que a boca, tardando-lhe o beijo, mordia&lt;br /&gt;Quando à boca da noite surgiste na tarde tal rosa tardia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando nós nos olhámos tardámos no beijo que a boca pedia&lt;br /&gt;E na tarde ficámos unidos ardendo na luz que morria&lt;br /&gt;Em nós dois nessa tarde em que tanto tardaste o sol amanhecia&lt;br /&gt;Era tarde de mais para haver outra noite, para haver outro dia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meu amor, meu amor&lt;br /&gt;Minha estrela da tarde&lt;br /&gt;Que o luar te amanheça e o meu corpo te guarde&lt;br /&gt;Meu amor, meu amor&lt;br /&gt;Eu não tenho a certeza&lt;br /&gt;Se tu és a alegria ou se és a tristeza&lt;br /&gt;Meu amor, meu amor&lt;br /&gt;Eu não tenho a certeza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foi a noite mais bela de todas as noites que me adormeceram&lt;br /&gt;Dos nocturnos silêncios que à noite de aromas e beijos se encheram&lt;br /&gt;Foi a noite em que os nossos dois corpos cansados não adormeceram&lt;br /&gt;E da estrada mais linda da noite uma festa de fogo fizeram&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foram noites e noites que numa só noite nos aconteceram&lt;br /&gt;Era o dia da noite de todas as noites que nos precederam&lt;br /&gt;Era a noite mais clara daqueles que à noite amando se deram&lt;br /&gt;E entre os braços da noite de tanto se amarem, vivendo morreram&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu não sei, meu amor, se o que digo é ternura, se é riso, se é pranto&lt;br /&gt;É por ti que adormeço e acordo e acordado recordo no canto&lt;br /&gt;Essa tarde em que tarde surgiste dum triste e profundo recanto&lt;br /&gt;Essa noite em que cedo nasceste despida de mágoa e de espanto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meu amor, nunca é tarde nem cedo para quem se quer tanto!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-108300361890252943?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/108300361890252943/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=108300361890252943' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108300361890252943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108300361890252943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/04/estrela-da-tarde.html' title='Estrela da Tarde'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-108273319170828174</id><published>2004-04-23T16:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-23T16:17:20.610+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Fragilidade</title><content type='html'>Quando me lembro dos momentos sem sentido&lt;br /&gt;Quando me lembro dos sinais que não segui&lt;br /&gt;esse momento em que eu só me vi contigo&lt;br /&gt;esse momento que eu nunca mais esqueci&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É desse estado que eu tenho mais saudade&lt;br /&gt;do sentimento que eu senti desvendar&lt;br /&gt;da minha busca, guardei apenas a verdade&lt;br /&gt;que em mim errado julguei ver no teu olhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas nesse tempo tudo parecia tão fácil&lt;br /&gt;foi nesse tempo que julguei ter-te p'ra mim&lt;br /&gt;foi nessa noite em que eu em ti fiz-me tão frágil&lt;br /&gt;para ir contigo de mão dada até ao fim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foi de uma escolha que eu te fiz cenário em mim&lt;br /&gt;foi de um olhar que eu te suguei sem perguntar&lt;br /&gt;foi nesta fome de piadas e mentiras  &lt;br /&gt;foi esta forma que encontrei p'ra me encontrar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-108273319170828174?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/108273319170828174/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=108273319170828174' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108273319170828174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108273319170828174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/04/fragilidade.html' title='Fragilidade'/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-108272935275244484</id><published>2004-04-23T15:06:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-23T15:15:18.826+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tua....</title><content type='html'> &lt;br /&gt;Acordo em dias pesados&lt;br /&gt;pensando na razão porque saiste,&lt;br /&gt;fugiste de mim, sem olhar para trás.&lt;br /&gt;Foram dias molhados.... e olho....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Janela esta que mostra um quadro&lt;br /&gt;sonhador, pintura que escorre&lt;br /&gt;numa saudade sentida&lt;br /&gt;tal como agora percorre... e sinto....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Numa canção já cantada, nua,&lt;br /&gt;por vozes perfeitas&lt;br /&gt;e quentes, mas canto numa musica, tua...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nunca é demais lembrar....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como uma Toranja, numa passagem,&lt;br /&gt;não te entregaste a ninguém&lt;br /&gt;mas o tiro acertou-me em cheio&lt;br /&gt;marcando um unica imagem, tua&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Numa canção já cantada, nua&lt;br /&gt;por vozes perfeitas&lt;br /&gt;e quentes, mas canto numa musica, tua...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nunca é demais lembrar....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aprendo a suportar o peso,&lt;br /&gt;acredito que passe num simples olhar,&lt;br /&gt;saudade sentida que me prende&lt;br /&gt;que agora pinto, sinto, vivo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Numa canção já cantada, nua&lt;br /&gt;por vozes perfeitas&lt;br /&gt;e quentes, mas canto numa musica tua...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tua..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luís Catalo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-108272935275244484?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/108272935275244484/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=108272935275244484' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108272935275244484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108272935275244484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/04/tua.html' title='Tua....'/><author><name>Miguel Costa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-108272927391232886</id><published>2004-04-23T15:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-23T15:14:35.200+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Quero....</title><content type='html'> &lt;br /&gt;Quero andar...&lt;br /&gt;Quero viver...&lt;br /&gt;uma rua para vaguear...&lt;br /&gt;um salto para morrer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero mais...&lt;br /&gt;Quero tudo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero um céu para voar...&lt;br /&gt;Quero um chão para pisar...&lt;br /&gt;Quero fogo para me queimar...&lt;br /&gt;Quero um mar para me afogar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero mais...&lt;br /&gt;Quero tudo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;um sonho para alcançar...&lt;br /&gt;uma névoa para me perder...&lt;br /&gt;um olhar para procurar...&lt;br /&gt;braços para adormecer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero mais...&lt;br /&gt;Quero tudo...&lt;br /&gt;Tenho tudo...&lt;br /&gt;não tenho nada...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luís Catalo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-108272927391232886?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/108272927391232886/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=108272927391232886' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108272927391232886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108272927391232886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/04/quero.html' title='Quero....'/><author><name>Miguel Costa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-108272663693283695</id><published>2004-04-23T14:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-23T14:28:05.653+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>(para quem não leu...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fluidos Temporais (15.04.2004)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chega o dia, marca a hora, a noite avança&lt;br /&gt;Perco mil noites procurando o rasto de uma estrela&lt;br /&gt;Movo mil sonhos de mil sonhos de mudança&lt;br /&gt;Peço desejos infinitos só p'ra vê-la...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Subindo o céu, rasguei a lua e fiz-me em mim&lt;br /&gt;Pedi-te a ti que eu pudesse ser só eu&lt;br /&gt;Cruzei caminhos de memórias sem ter fim&lt;br /&gt;Cansei cansaços em que a morte não venceu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Voltando ao fundo, remexendo tudo em mim&lt;br /&gt;Turvei saudades do futuro em que reinei&lt;br /&gt;Fingi comédias repousadas sobre mim&lt;br /&gt;Cortei amarras, ganhei asas e voei...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sentido o espaço reduzir e vendo o fim&lt;br /&gt;Tentei enganar o meu tempo com razões&lt;br /&gt;Fluindo mágoas com vitórias, vi em mim&lt;br /&gt;Não mais que um mundo que se move em ilusões &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-108272663693283695?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/108272663693283695/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=108272663693283695' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108272663693283695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108272663693283695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/04/para-quem-no-leu.html' title=''/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-108263949111183068</id><published>2004-04-22T14:10:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-22T14:15:38.530+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"AMO-TE, é um feitiço que se sente desde o início...&lt;br /&gt;O feitiço que se sente entre dois seres que se amam.&lt;br /&gt;O movimento que retrata a história e sensação que todos passamos...&lt;br /&gt;alguma vez na vida e que fica dentro de nós para sempre, como se eterno se tornasse.&lt;br /&gt;A comoção de um olhar, do falar, a luz que se irradia sem querer.&lt;br /&gt;Sentir-se rendido sem força para ir contra aquilo que se sente....e deixar-se perder.&lt;br /&gt;AMO-TE, é um espectáculo intenso, onde todos nós nos revemos, de uma maneira ou de outra.&lt;br /&gt;Esperamos contar contigo para partilhar connosco este sentimento: AMO-TE..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-108263949111183068?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/108263949111183068/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=108263949111183068' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108263949111183068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108263949111183068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/04/amo-te-um-feitio-que-se-sente-desde-o.html' title=''/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-108263934620796090</id><published>2004-04-22T14:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-22T14:13:13.653+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Gosto mt desta letra...;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mesa - Esquecimento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esta é sobre ti, tem amor e ódio&lt;br /&gt;É para ires ouvindo nestas horas de ócio&lt;br /&gt;Ínfima parte de um sonho perdido&lt;br /&gt;Liberei-o, já o tinha esquecido&lt;br /&gt;É o sinal...&lt;br /&gt;Espero o momento, na sombra da rua&lt;br /&gt;Ouço uma voz que me lembra a tua&lt;br /&gt;Passei pelo risco de sofrer, por não ler os teus sinais&lt;br /&gt;É o sinal... para recomeçar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero ser gente, quero ver a terra&lt;br /&gt;Chegar a casa e ter alguém à espera&lt;br /&gt;Quero um presente, quero ser bera&lt;br /&gt;Quero ser submissa, quero ser a fera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leva-me ás areias quentes&lt;br /&gt;Que mastigam os sentimentos e me deixam nua perante os elementos&lt;br /&gt;Ensina-me a escavar, objectos sem estragar&lt;br /&gt;Para que sorrir seja sempre vulgar&lt;br /&gt;Dêm-me de beber, finas gotas desse mel&lt;br /&gt;Para que o meu saber não esteja só no papel&lt;br /&gt;Insita-me a lembrar do teu gosto pelo mar&lt;br /&gt;Para que um dia esteja pronta a zarpar&lt;br /&gt;Espero que amanhã tudo seja diferente &lt;br /&gt;E que tu possas estar presente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Insita-me a atirar, os dados sem soprar&lt;br /&gt;sem te dizer, seja vulgar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Insita-me a tirar, para recomeçar...&lt;br /&gt;Quero chegar a casa e ter alguém à espera&lt;br /&gt;Quero um presente, quero ser bera&lt;br /&gt;Quero ser submissa, quero ser a fera&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-108263934620796090?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/108263934620796090/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=108263934620796090' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108263934620796090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108263934620796090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/04/gosto-mt-desta-letra.html' title=''/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-108263695641421910</id><published>2004-04-22T13:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-22T13:33:23.560+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ATENÇÃO: Queres escrever neste blog, boa!...não tem problema, basta que envies um mail para (maurodrigues@netcabo.pt)...será bem-vindo, não haverá censura, por isso tentem manter um nível aceitável ao nível das palavras porque há forma de dizer as coisas, recorram às figuras de estilo, são óptimas nestes casos:). Mantenham o bom senso e pensem que este blog acima de tudo, também é vosso! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beijos e abraços! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mauro Rodrigues &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-108263695641421910?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/108263695641421910/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=108263695641421910' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108263695641421910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108263695641421910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/04/ateno-queres-escrever-neste-blog-boa.html' title=''/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-108263499274582676</id><published>2004-04-22T12:51:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-22T13:04:38.046+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'> &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aqui estou&lt;br /&gt;mais um dia...&lt;br /&gt;fico parado e espero,&lt;br /&gt;penso,&lt;br /&gt;penso no que poderia ter sido...&lt;br /&gt;pensamento que me consome,&lt;br /&gt;que me corroi, intriga...&lt;br /&gt;aqui estou,&lt;br /&gt;a sentir o medo de te perder,&lt;br /&gt;perder o pouco que já tenho,&lt;br /&gt;o pouco que ainda tenho...&lt;br /&gt;penso no tempo,&lt;br /&gt;acções, palavras,&lt;br /&gt;gestos passados...&lt;br /&gt;penso no calor do teu corpo,&lt;br /&gt;no sarar de um simples toque&lt;br /&gt;e no ardor de um silencio...&lt;br /&gt;e aqui estou...&lt;br /&gt;a gritar, bem alto,&lt;br /&gt;até ficar com os pulmões cansados&lt;br /&gt;que refletem a minha alma,&lt;br /&gt;cansada e gelada,&lt;br /&gt;aqui estou,&lt;br /&gt;mais um dia...&lt;br /&gt;onde tudo me traz uma recordação,&lt;br /&gt;uma imagem&lt;br /&gt;aqui estou,&lt;br /&gt;mais um dia....&lt;br /&gt;a gritar e sem ser ouvido,&lt;br /&gt;sentindo uma ansia de te tocar&lt;br /&gt;com as minhas palavras e actos&lt;br /&gt;mas o que sinto é apenas um olhar&lt;br /&gt;que espelha o que poderia ter sito,&lt;br /&gt;o que talvez foi,&lt;br /&gt;o que provavelmente nunca será,&lt;br /&gt;e aqui estou...&lt;br /&gt;diferente, marcado, amado&lt;br /&gt;sentindo um vazio,&lt;br /&gt;um espaço que era teu,&lt;br /&gt;que é teu&lt;br /&gt;que será teu...&lt;br /&gt;e aqui estou...&lt;br /&gt;e continuo aqui...&lt;br /&gt;gritarei mais alto e mais forte!&lt;br /&gt;gritarei o que poder!&lt;br /&gt;gritarei a felicidade que sinto&lt;br /&gt;e angústia que a cobre!&lt;br /&gt;gritarei até te tocar&lt;br /&gt;bem dentro, bem no fundo!&lt;br /&gt;gritarei sempre... se não por ti, por mim.... pois morri por dentro naquela noite..... mas continuo aqui...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luís Catalo (2004)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-108263499274582676?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/108263499274582676/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=108263499274582676' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108263499274582676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108263499274582676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/04/aqui-estou-mais-um-dia.html' title=''/><author><name>Miguel Costa</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-108262933589277803</id><published>2004-04-22T10:55:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-22T11:26:23.090+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Era só mais um...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Era só mais um dia rendido&lt;br /&gt;Sob este sol que me queima a razão&lt;br /&gt;vejo o teu rasto escondido na estrada&lt;br /&gt;sob estes vidros que me prendem ao chão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Era só mais um dia falhado&lt;br /&gt;Sob este sol que se afasta no ar&lt;br /&gt;vejo a noite escondida na esquina&lt;br /&gt;sob tectos onde prendo o luar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Era só mais um dia perdido&lt;br /&gt;nestes becos de vida sem fundo&lt;br /&gt;nestas sombras onde se esconde o luar&lt;br /&gt;sobre pinturas de guerra&lt;br /&gt;Que eu não sei apagar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mauro Rodrigues(22/04/04)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-108262933589277803?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/108262933589277803/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=108262933589277803' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108262933589277803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108262933589277803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/04/era-s-mais-um.html' title=''/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6811576.post-108257080590602078</id><published>2004-04-21T19:04:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2004-04-21T19:10:52.310+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Queres deitar cá para fora algo e não tens saco ou papel para escrever por perto...então...para ti(e quem quiser aparecer)...esse lugar é aqui :) ;)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mauro Rodrigues&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6811576-108257080590602078?l=espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/feeds/108257080590602078/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6811576&amp;postID=108257080590602078' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108257080590602078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6811576/posts/default/108257080590602078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://espinhasliterarias.blogspot.com/2004/04/queres-deitar-c-para-fora-algo-e-no.html' title=''/><author><name>Mauro Rodrigues</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17545528928390012969</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='6' height='32' src='http://www.restaurantetagide.com/images/corte.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
