<?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-8925212801146305281</id><updated>2011-11-01T16:07:18.887-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lua de prata em céu de carvão</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>60</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-5081186356113259445</id><published>2011-11-01T15:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-01T16:07:18.906-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia; "&gt;You thought you were so special&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Oh dear, you thought you were!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;But you are nothing but just another one&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;In this seven billion people world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;“But today – this Day of 7 Billion – &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;is not about one newborn, or even one generation,” he stated. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;“This is a day about our entire human family.”&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 16px; "&gt;- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.un.org/sg/" style="text-decoration: none; line-height: 16px; text-align: -webkit-auto; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Secretary-General&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 16px; "&gt; Ban Ki-moon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.un.org/apps/news/story.asp?NewsID=40257"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;http://www.un.org/apps/news/story.asp?NewsID=40257&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-5081186356113259445?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/5081186356113259445/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=5081186356113259445&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5081186356113259445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5081186356113259445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2011/11/1.html' title='One'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-6717252134797592401</id><published>2011-08-25T18:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-25T18:50:05.002-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No ashes</title><content type='html'>Holy night&lt;div&gt;That with shadows&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Guide my days&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Come to me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Come&lt;/i&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Show the beauty&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of the darkness&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That opened my mind&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Opened the gates&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;From worlds&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;From fates&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That might cross someday&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Come&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Overtake my body&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Reach my soul&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fill my heart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With black&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With coal&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;...Fire&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-6717252134797592401?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/6717252134797592401/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=6717252134797592401&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/6717252134797592401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/6717252134797592401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2011/08/no-ashes.html' title='No ashes'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-2382012662439616194</id><published>2011-03-11T06:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T06:45:49.709-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Trajetória (Mais rodas)</title><content type='html'>Gira a roda, criança&lt;br /&gt;Gira, que a vida leva&lt;br /&gt;Na roda da vida não se descansa&lt;br /&gt;Não se para&lt;br /&gt;Nunca cessa&lt;br /&gt;A roda anda como um andarilho&lt;br /&gt;Sem destino&lt;br /&gt;Sem caminho&lt;br /&gt;Sem um trilho&lt;br /&gt;Sem ninguém&lt;br /&gt;A roda balança&lt;br /&gt;- e assim a lembrança -&lt;br /&gt;Nos pedregulhos do vai e vem&lt;br /&gt;Deixa a sua marca na terra batida&lt;br /&gt;Ferida aberta&lt;br /&gt;No peito de alguém&lt;br /&gt;Cai a noite e a roda rodando&lt;br /&gt;Foi-se o dia&lt;br /&gt;Anestesia&lt;br /&gt;Nas nuvens, agora&lt;br /&gt;A roda persiste&lt;br /&gt;Em seu fado triste&lt;br /&gt;De não descansar&lt;br /&gt;Percorre caminhos&lt;br /&gt;Becos, ruelas&lt;br /&gt;Pecorre as mais belas&lt;br /&gt;Praias que há&lt;br /&gt;Percorre e descobre, no fim do trajeto&lt;br /&gt;Que o fim é incerto&lt;br /&gt;Recomeça a rodar&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-2382012662439616194?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/2382012662439616194/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=2382012662439616194&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/2382012662439616194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/2382012662439616194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2011/03/trajetoria-mais-rodas.html' title='Trajetória (Mais rodas)'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-8016380000045612092</id><published>2011-02-09T19:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T13:48:10.096-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Inverno</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); line-height: 20px; " &gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;[I envy Light - that wakes Him&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;And Bells - that boldly ring&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;To tell Him it is Noon, abroad-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Myself - be Noon to Him]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Emily Dickinso&lt;/span&gt;n&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Invejo os flocos de neve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Que tocam os seus cabelos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Invejo as toalhas felpudas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Passando entre seus dedos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Invejo as estradas e praças&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Sob seu olhar constante&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Queria estar em seus passos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Invejo as pontes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Invejo os cervos assustados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;E os montes que lhe cercam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Invejo as noites escuras &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;E os arbustos no campo aberto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Invejo o algodão &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Em contato com a sua pele&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Invejo o rio que corre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Invejo os flocos de neve&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-8016380000045612092?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/8016380000045612092/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=8016380000045612092&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/8016380000045612092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/8016380000045612092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2011/02/inverno.html' title='Inverno'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-8390488675741760488</id><published>2010-11-30T18:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T18:39:46.996-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Relógio</title><content type='html'>Perco tempo.&lt;div&gt;Perco, e não sei onde o coloquei.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Terá se escondido em algum momento desperdiçado?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Estará dentro de uma gaveta, esquecido?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Perco ou o jogo fora, não sei.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ou, quem sabe, não me é roubado,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Por algum ladrão insensível&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que não sabe o quanto&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- e é tanto - &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;eu gostaria de ficar aqui.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aqui, presa nesse instante,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Como uma imagem congelada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;De um velho filme na tv.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sem medo que o tempo lá fora corresse,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu poderia perder todo o tempo do mundo com você.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-8390488675741760488?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/8390488675741760488/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=8390488675741760488&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/8390488675741760488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/8390488675741760488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2010/11/relogio.html' title='Relógio'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-6304768993085980670</id><published>2010-11-07T14:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-07T15:04:26.738-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sinceridade</title><content type='html'>Entre nós há uma cumplicidade&lt;div&gt;Quase difícil de se imaginar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Olho em seus olhos e vejo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Os fantasmas e flores que por ali já passaram&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não há sequer uma coisa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que saia de seus lábios&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que eu não compreenda por inteiro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não há um só de seus pensamentos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sobre o qual eu já não tenha meditado.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Entre nós há uma sinceridade&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que por vezes me faz estremecer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As muitas críticas e os parcos elogios,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Os olhares de soslaio, os suspiros,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As atitudes impensadas e as mão inquietas,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não escondem o que o franzir da testa quer dizer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu sei.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu sei dos seus medos, das suas angústias.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sei das alegrias, das memórias e das esperanças.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu, e só eu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Te conheço por inteiro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;no espelho.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-6304768993085980670?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/6304768993085980670/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=6304768993085980670&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/6304768993085980670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/6304768993085980670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2010/11/sinceridade.html' title='Sinceridade'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-1920360196776116787</id><published>2010-09-21T16:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-27T17:31:05.366-08:00</updated><title type='text'>For you</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Maybe we could be just another couple&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Maybe we could have been just friends&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Maybe I could have never met you&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;And this feeling would have never got this strength&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Maybe we just don't belong together&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Or maybe the Universe conspires&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Thoughtless,irresistible and unbridled feeling&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Caught my heart and my mind&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Could I ever deny?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;From the moment your arms first surrounded me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;And your hand touched mine&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;This bright energy became part of me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;And the world turned into essence and shine&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Irretrievable, irresponsable heart&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Threw away my sanity&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;By openning all the locks&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;And though I've tried to put it in check&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Fell in love with you&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;And there is no way back.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-1920360196776116787?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/1920360196776116787/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=1920360196776116787&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/1920360196776116787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/1920360196776116787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2010/09/for-you.html' title='For you'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-5991254109490782749</id><published>2010-08-01T19:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-01T19:34:42.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuga</title><content type='html'>Tu, que trouxeste de novo o sorriso aos meus lábios&lt;div&gt;Tu, que me mostraste caminhos que eu poderia seguir&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tu, que abriste um horizonte de perspectivas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Agora me deixas sem nada dizer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Por quê?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foi por medo, ao ver que meu coração anseia por um destino?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foi receio, pois ter-me era demais para ti?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ou foi simplesmente desprezo?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ou ainda desapego?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Acreditas mesmo que nunca vais sentir?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não se vá desse jeito.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não se vá, volte aqui.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-5991254109490782749?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/5991254109490782749/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=5991254109490782749&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5991254109490782749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5991254109490782749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2010/08/fuga.html' title='Fuga'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-8963451265383393886</id><published>2010-07-04T08:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T08:46:43.547-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Os seus beijos e braços&lt;div&gt;Me enlaçam&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu perco os sentidos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não vou mais fugir&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-8963451265383393886?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/8963451265383393886/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=8963451265383393886&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/8963451265383393886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/8963451265383393886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2010/07/os-seus-beijos-e-bracos-me-enlacam-eu.html' title=''/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-1921655001989148392</id><published>2010-05-29T04:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-29T05:34:43.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Insipidez</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" &gt;Não há dor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Não há frio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" &gt;Não há tristeza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" &gt;Não há nada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não me olhe nos olhos&lt;br /&gt;Não enxergue minha alma&lt;br /&gt;Não me dê um beijo&lt;br /&gt;Não se renda ao desejo&lt;br /&gt;Não esconda nada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não prometa coisas&lt;br /&gt;Nem vá se iludir&lt;br /&gt;Não me faça perguntas&lt;br /&gt;Não peça desculpas&lt;br /&gt;E também não espere&lt;br /&gt;Que eu as vá pedir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não me toque&lt;br /&gt;Não me encoste&lt;br /&gt;Não se esconda&lt;br /&gt;Não sorria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não me siga&lt;br /&gt;Não se lembre&lt;br /&gt;Não diga "nunca"&lt;br /&gt;Nem "para sempre"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não fique triste&lt;br /&gt;Não fique só&lt;br /&gt;Não se explique&lt;br /&gt;Não se esquive&lt;br /&gt;Não tenha medo&lt;br /&gt;de se encontrar&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-1921655001989148392?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/1921655001989148392/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=1921655001989148392&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/1921655001989148392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/1921655001989148392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2010/05/insipidez.html' title='Insipidez'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-5199112369230102850</id><published>2010-05-26T06:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T09:54:47.159-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Melodia aleatória</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Chamaste-me pra ouvir uma canção&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;E parece já fazer tanto tempo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Ainda lembro tua imagem ao violão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Mas o som foi levado pelo vento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Toque mais uma vez pra mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Toque pra eu não esquecer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Ainda te lembras daquele refrão?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Ou só pra mim nunca vai perecer?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Os sons da rua e a minha pulsação&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;São tudo o que eu consigo ouvir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Mas aquela melodia ainda ressoa dentro de mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Foi-se a tua voz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Ficaram as canções&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-5199112369230102850?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/5199112369230102850/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=5199112369230102850&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5199112369230102850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5199112369230102850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2010/05/melodia-aleatoria.html' title='Melodia aleatória'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-2177912191494421688</id><published>2010-05-20T09:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-20T10:03:34.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Clarear</title><content type='html'>O dia ainda não amanheceu&lt;div&gt;O céu é de um lilás cinzento claro&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Há um cheiro de flores no ar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Por que há tantas luzes acesas?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A garganta dói com palavras não ditas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As pernas doem por quilômetros não andados&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Temo os vultos que estão na penumbra&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quero encarar os que estão iluminados&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nada atrapalha esse momento&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nesse momento não há mais nada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Os pássaros cantam pra mais um dia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu canto o fim de outra madrugada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-2177912191494421688?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/2177912191494421688/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=2177912191494421688&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/2177912191494421688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/2177912191494421688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2010/05/clarear.html' title='Clarear'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-2096601236956424096</id><published>2010-04-25T12:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T13:00:29.624-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sensatez</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Oh,não pense,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Que as estrelas mais bonitas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;São aquela mais brilhantes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Que a flor mais colorida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Brota o amor em um instante&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pois os olhos de quem vê&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;É que fazem a beleza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Não são flores, nem estrelas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nem canções, ou proezas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Além disso, não há nada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Que se possa construir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nada ouve o coração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quando não se quer ouvir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-2096601236956424096?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/2096601236956424096/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=2096601236956424096&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/2096601236956424096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/2096601236956424096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2010/04/sensatez.html' title='Sensatez'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-5792941610349035195</id><published>2010-04-25T12:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T12:57:52.412-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Teares</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Dormi olhando a noite, ontem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Dormi sorrindo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Vi mil anos se passarem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;em uma rajada de vento.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Teci a teia do tempo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Vi você, vi a mim,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;No infinito de um instante.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Teci a teia do tempo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Com a linha do horizonte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-5792941610349035195?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/5792941610349035195/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=5792941610349035195&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5792941610349035195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5792941610349035195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2010/04/teares.html' title='Teares'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-3728328403273165317</id><published>2010-04-25T12:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T12:56:13.251-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eco</title><content type='html'>Cresce a lua lá fora,&lt;br /&gt;Cresço eu aqui dentro também.&lt;br /&gt;Mas lá fora são livres as ninfas,&lt;br /&gt;Aqui dentro Eco que me detém.&lt;br /&gt;Sem forma, sem cor,&lt;br /&gt;Reduzida a voz,&lt;br /&gt;Ressoa nas paredes do meu coração.&lt;br /&gt;Ela chama meu nome sem o adizer,&lt;br /&gt;Ela faz gritar minha pulsação.&lt;br /&gt;Ninfa maldita!&lt;br /&gt;Dia e noite a me torturar!&lt;br /&gt;Só porque amou e não foi correspondida,&lt;br /&gt;Quer, qual cupido, me apaixonar.&lt;br /&gt;Ah, amor...&lt;br /&gt;Por que amor,&lt;br /&gt;Se as mais belas palavras são escritas na dor?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-3728328403273165317?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/3728328403273165317/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=3728328403273165317&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/3728328403273165317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/3728328403273165317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2010/04/eco.html' title='Eco'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-5549200802047206520</id><published>2009-06-29T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T08:09:03.578-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Matéria já deformada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Por tantos pecados distintos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Sigo andando pela rua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Entre os olhares famintos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Por vezes sinto-me nua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Quase nunca &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;                     nada sinto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Erro ao fazer o certo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Não acerto ao errar, também&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;O amanhã foi mais belo que hoje&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;O que é que meus olhos não vêem?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Sigo a partitura&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Não é a cura&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;                       E não soa bem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Entre vazios e plenos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Entre antídotos e venenos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;No começo e no fim dos tempos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;                                                                             Não há satisfação.&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/8925212801146305281-5549200802047206520?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/5549200802047206520/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=5549200802047206520&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5549200802047206520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5549200802047206520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2009/06/materia-ja-deformada-por-tantos-pecados.html' title=''/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-1084877783278202774</id><published>2009-06-16T20:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T20:05:02.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wishes</title><content type='html'>Give me love&lt;br /&gt;or&lt;br /&gt;Give me trust&lt;br /&gt;or&lt;br /&gt;Give me both&lt;br /&gt;If it's what you want&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give me peace&lt;br /&gt;Don't leave me lost&lt;br /&gt;or&lt;br /&gt;Take a risk&lt;br /&gt;Take back my heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give me change&lt;br /&gt;But be the same&lt;br /&gt;And, please, stay&lt;br /&gt;Give me your day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give me one night&lt;br /&gt;With stars so bright&lt;br /&gt;That light the sky&lt;br /&gt;Give me your life&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-1084877783278202774?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/1084877783278202774/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=1084877783278202774&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/1084877783278202774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/1084877783278202774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2009/06/wishes.html' title='Wishes'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-7619482415322606210</id><published>2009-04-19T09:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T09:49:27.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Multidão</title><content type='html'>Atravessam a rua tantas pessoas&lt;br /&gt;Andam nas calçadas&lt;br /&gt;Na chuva ou no vento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Atravessam a rua correndo ou andando&lt;br /&gt;Seguem o fluxo&lt;br /&gt;São movimento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todas as cores de blusas&lt;br /&gt;Difusas&lt;br /&gt;Como são todos esses pensamentos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cada pessoa traz suas cruzes&lt;br /&gt;Suas ilusões&lt;br /&gt;E desapontamentos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perdidos no meio de tanto barulho&lt;br /&gt;Só restam os passos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não há sofrimento.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-7619482415322606210?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/7619482415322606210/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=7619482415322606210&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/7619482415322606210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/7619482415322606210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2009/04/multidao.html' title='Multidão'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-1333993587960557017</id><published>2009-04-09T07:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T19:07:08.521-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Inércia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Silêncio interno na calada da noite&lt;br /&gt;Passos vazios, não sabem aonde vão&lt;br /&gt;O mundo é pequeno&lt;br /&gt;Aceleram os passos&lt;br /&gt;O mundo às avessas&lt;br /&gt;Vazios os meus braços&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quartos de hora que passam&lt;br /&gt;Nem vejo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passa o desejo&lt;br /&gt;Só solidão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-1333993587960557017?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/1333993587960557017/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=1333993587960557017&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/1333993587960557017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/1333993587960557017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2009/04/inercia.html' title='Inércia'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-2547348273012694726</id><published>2009-02-08T09:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T18:41:21.367-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aurora</title><content type='html'>No beijo que encerra a noite&lt;br /&gt;No beijo, começa a manhã&lt;br /&gt;O sol toca o mar cristalino&lt;br /&gt;Como beija um menino&lt;br /&gt;A face de sua mãe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O beijo desfaz as trevas&lt;br /&gt;Mostra o contorno das serras&lt;br /&gt;Indica o caminho às velas&lt;br /&gt;Nina os boêmios gritões&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O beijo é o momento sagrado&lt;br /&gt;Em que os infinitos se unem&lt;br /&gt;Espaço,esfera,reta&lt;br /&gt;Céu,sol,mar&lt;br /&gt;E no toque acontece o milagre&lt;br /&gt;O sol alcança o horizonte&lt;br /&gt;Linha do fim do mundo&lt;br /&gt;Fora de nosso alcance&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-2547348273012694726?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/2547348273012694726/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=2547348273012694726&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/2547348273012694726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/2547348273012694726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2009/02/aurora.html' title='Aurora'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-1043304184660728726</id><published>2008-12-23T10:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T10:31:35.974-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Passos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Para ele, que muito a seguiu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;e pra ela, que seguiu seu caminho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Eu andava por tantas ruas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Sozinho na multidão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;E era tanta gente correndo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Sorrindo,sofrendo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;E eu gritando minha solidão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Eu andava por tantas ruas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Por ela, e eu esquecia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Que tanta gente corria&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Bem ali ao meu redor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;E ela gesticulava&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Sorria, falava&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Tão linda que ela era&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;E eu pensava "Quem me dera &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;que ela me ouvisse gritar"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;E eu andava por tantas ruas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Com ela, e eu sorria&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Porque ela também sabia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Que ninguém nos via na multidão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;E agora eu não me importava &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Com toda aquela correria&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Agora eu também corria&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'lucida grande';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Pra alcançar seu coração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-1043304184660728726?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/1043304184660728726/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=1043304184660728726&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/1043304184660728726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/1043304184660728726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/12/para-ele-que-muito-seguiu-e-pra-ela-que.html' title='Passos'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-4136538023998452545</id><published>2008-12-13T15:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T15:17:06.323-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sustenido</title><content type='html'>Não vi&lt;div&gt;Quando as tuas notas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;                     Viraram silvos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não sei&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Se antes foram &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;atos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;     se foram &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;adágios,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;    ou se foram gritos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;allegro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Por ser um &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;andante&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que corre riscos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Em&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;resto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sinfonias &lt;/span&gt;rasgadas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Para o paraíso&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Enxergo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As minhas &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sonatas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nos teus sorrisos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-4136538023998452545?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/4136538023998452545/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=4136538023998452545&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/4136538023998452545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/4136538023998452545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/12/sustenido.html' title='Sustenido'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-4089924537069223320</id><published>2008-11-07T07:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T07:31:09.422-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sol</title><content type='html'>Cada um vive a vida&lt;br /&gt;Do jeito que lhe apraz:&lt;br /&gt;Tem gente que guarda tudo,&lt;br /&gt;Tem gente que se desfaz.&lt;br /&gt;Em um dia mormacento,&lt;br /&gt;Há quem pense no inferno.&lt;br /&gt;Mas que grande estupidez,&lt;br /&gt;Melhor pensar no inverno!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nos dias em que há brisa,&lt;br /&gt;Que nos balançam os cabelos,&lt;br /&gt;Há os que trabalham e os que ficam em casa:&lt;br /&gt;há aqueles que preferem sofrer.&lt;br /&gt;Uma tarde tão bonita!&lt;br /&gt;E parece que ninguém vê...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como a eloqüência de um mudo,&lt;br /&gt;Ou um cego que vê demais,&lt;br /&gt;Há quem olhe para o absurdo&lt;br /&gt;E entenda o sentido que faz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-4089924537069223320?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/4089924537069223320/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=4089924537069223320&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/4089924537069223320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/4089924537069223320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/11/sol.html' title='Sol'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-7671983188667486907</id><published>2008-10-08T11:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T15:19:05.484-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Voz</title><content type='html'>Quase não enxergo mais nada&lt;br /&gt;Quase não penso&lt;br /&gt;Quase insisto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando enxergo, são belas bobagens&lt;br /&gt;Depois que passam&lt;br /&gt;Viram risos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando eu penso, fico calada&lt;br /&gt;Quando não calo&lt;br /&gt;Deslizo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E se deslizo, eu me arrependo&lt;br /&gt;Depois que penso,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desisto.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-7671983188667486907?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/7671983188667486907/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=7671983188667486907&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/7671983188667486907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/7671983188667486907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/10/voz.html' title='Voz'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-768896541194564228</id><published>2008-09-13T11:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T11:43:23.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflexo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Não vou descrever &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Palavras e gestos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Se hoje são restos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Do que já passou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Eu olho o futuro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;E vejo um espelho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Tudo o que vejo é seu:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;você, eu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Tudo o que é meu, é seu:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;você, eu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-768896541194564228?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/768896541194564228/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=768896541194564228&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/768896541194564228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/768896541194564228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/09/reflexo.html' title='Reflexo'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-1383385463067236613</id><published>2008-08-24T08:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T08:45:48.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Maturidade</title><content type='html'>Pegue seus velhos olhos,&lt;br /&gt;Suas costas doídas,&lt;br /&gt;Transforme em uma nova visão.&lt;br /&gt;Traga flores,&lt;br /&gt;Sorria,&lt;br /&gt;Fique conosco pra uma canção.&lt;br /&gt;Não deixe as lembranças&lt;br /&gt;Serem tão bonitas,&lt;br /&gt;Regue as margaridas que você plantou.&lt;br /&gt;Sinto saudade das nossas conversas,&lt;br /&gt;Me impeça&lt;br /&gt;De esquecer como são.&lt;br /&gt;Estamos a um passo de grandes mudanças;&lt;br /&gt;Deixe que eu faça nascer a esperança,&lt;br /&gt;Faça nascer um maduro botão.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-1383385463067236613?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/1383385463067236613/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=1383385463067236613&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/1383385463067236613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/1383385463067236613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/08/maturidade.html' title='Maturidade'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-3398883054626514032</id><published>2008-08-10T19:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T19:19:31.258-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ancestral</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Eu gosto de ouvir&lt;br /&gt;Barulhos ao longe&lt;br /&gt;Me lembram de um tempo&lt;br /&gt;Que eu não vivi&lt;br /&gt;Um tempo em que as gentes&lt;br /&gt;Não eram tão surdas&lt;br /&gt;Chamavam a chuva&lt;br /&gt;E ouviam os chamados&lt;br /&gt;E hoje, seu fardo&lt;br /&gt;É ter que mentir.&lt;br /&gt;Mentir que acreditam&lt;br /&gt;Na própria existência&lt;br /&gt;Fingir que ainda querem&lt;br /&gt;Ser partes de si&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-3398883054626514032?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/3398883054626514032/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=3398883054626514032&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/3398883054626514032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/3398883054626514032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/08/ancestral.html' title='Ancestral'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-2862589895355515399</id><published>2008-07-28T16:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T16:29:10.894-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Coroa</title><content type='html'>Quantas vezes já falei&lt;br /&gt;Que não é a realeza&lt;br /&gt;Que importa para um rei?&lt;br /&gt;O poder de estar no trono&lt;br /&gt;Não provém de sua beleza&lt;br /&gt;Mas do ouro&lt;br /&gt;e da lei&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-2862589895355515399?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/2862589895355515399/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=2862589895355515399&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/2862589895355515399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/2862589895355515399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/07/coroa.html' title='A Coroa'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-1882991432030287392</id><published>2008-07-04T09:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T09:17:37.875-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Distância</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Beija esse anel nos teus dedos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Se queres pensar que recebo teus beijos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Olha teus olhos bem fundo no espelho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Procura a mim, lá eu estou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Observa a paisagem: os montes e o verde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ombros e cintura: é isso que vês?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Árvores balançam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Remexo os cabelos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sinta o cheiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Que eu sinto você&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Olha pra fora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E lembra o que eu disse:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"A lua vê tudo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;e sussura no breu."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-1882991432030287392?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/1882991432030287392/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=1882991432030287392&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/1882991432030287392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/1882991432030287392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/07/distncia.html' title='Distância'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-8455240141526087853</id><published>2008-06-18T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T11:14:34.247-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fluvial</title><content type='html'>As pedras dos rios que aqui já passaram&lt;br /&gt;São esferas macias&lt;br /&gt;                                       de lágrimas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os rios caudalosos que agora secaram&lt;br /&gt;Deixaram caminhos&lt;br /&gt;                                       marcados no espaço&lt;br /&gt;Viraram espinhos&lt;br /&gt;                                       agudos de cactus&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-8455240141526087853?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/8455240141526087853/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=8455240141526087853&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/8455240141526087853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/8455240141526087853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/06/fluvial.html' title='Fluvial'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-5543868416324138688</id><published>2008-06-01T18:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T18:24:26.968-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Minhas manhãs são de azul claro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;De café amargo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;De idéias cantarolantes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;As tardes são de procura&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;De pensar em uma cura&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Pra essa mania de querer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Fim de tarde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;O corpo se agita&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Movimento na avenida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Ar refresca, nuvem vem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Há noites &lt;strong&gt;claras&lt;/strong&gt; que eu passo em claro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Há noites &lt;strong&gt;rua &lt;/strong&gt;que eu adormeço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Há noites &lt;strong&gt;chuva&lt;/strong&gt; que eu não choro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Tenho dias de encarar o mundo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;E noites de ser &lt;em&gt;mudada&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;                          mundada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;                          inundada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-5543868416324138688?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/5543868416324138688/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=5543868416324138688&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5543868416324138688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5543868416324138688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/06/minhas-manhs-so-de-azul-claro-de-caf.html' title=''/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-4018861709518892691</id><published>2008-05-23T08:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T08:33:25.415-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A espera</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Esperava pelas flores. Esperava os bombons e os cartões. Esperava pelas palavras delicadas e os gestos sutis. Simplesmente esperava.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Fechada em seu pequeno mundo verde água, aconchegada em um macio edredon e abraçada àquele velho urso que ganhara da avó, lembrava de todas as vezes em que já se vira naquela situação: olhava, com os olhos banhados em lágrimas, para o nada; imaginava como tudo poderia ser.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Estava cansada de receber conselhos e consolos. Ao mesmo tempo, precisava deles. Estava cansada de precisar de estímulos externos para não cair na tentação de se fechar definitivamente em seu mundinho. "Mas, ah, como seria bom não mais que se preocupar com o resto!" Ali dentro era tudo tão quente, macio e agradável...Sem as asperezas e precipícios gelados lá de fora. Não ter mais que arriscar-se, não ter mais que temer e nem sentir aquele frio na barriga. Tudo lá fora era frio. Aqueles conselhos das pessoas geladas, aqueles consolos que eram facas pontiagudas, aquelas visões-baldes-de-água-fria. Ele. Ele era o mais frio de tudo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Já havia se machucado outras vezes. Mas dessa fora diferente. Ela realmente havia entrado fundo, apostara tudo, acreditara já ter experiência o suficiente para distinguir o real do ilusório. Tomara confiança. Errara. E odiava, mais do que tudo, errar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Sofria ainda mais porque quisera aquilo tudo. E, no fundo, ainda queria. Queria arriscar-se, entregar-se, queria gastar seu tempo inutilmente com coisas com as quais não deveria gastá-lo. Queria reclamar, rir, chorar, queria fazer declarações, se entregar. Queria brigar, fazer dramalhão mexicano, terminar tudo, cortar o cabelo e sair com as amigas. Sentia-se no direito de viver tudo aquilo. Afinal, não era isso que alguém da sua idade vivia? Ela só não lembrava que era especial.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Esquecia-se de todas as garotas que passavam pela mesma situação que ela todos os dias. Ela era especial, sim. Mas era especial como todas as mulheres são.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Aquele não era um dia comum. Aquele era o dia em que ela ia levantar-se, afastar o edredon, arrumar a cama e colocar seu velho urso confortavelmente sentado ali. Aquele era o dia e que ela ia olhar seus belos olhos no espelho e se sentir uma mulher. Aquele era o dia em que ela ia andar na rua e sorrir para o mundo, mas sorrir sem desejar nada em troca. Aquele era o dia em que ela ia tratar cada pessoa como especial, como todas as pessoas o são. E enxergar que, no fundo, todos esperavam tanto quanto ela. Afinal, todos sempre esperam.&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/8925212801146305281-4018861709518892691?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/4018861709518892691/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=4018861709518892691&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/4018861709518892691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/4018861709518892691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/05/espera.html' title='A espera'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-27261762253296473</id><published>2008-04-21T18:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-03T11:29:19.583-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rodas</title><content type='html'>Tudo o que faço disfarço&lt;br /&gt;num abraço um passo em falso&lt;br /&gt;que quero esconder&lt;br /&gt;Tudo o que fazes me trazes&lt;br /&gt;em frases caladas&lt;br /&gt;e sabes que eu as posso ouvir&lt;br /&gt;Mas o que mais quero é&lt;br /&gt;que sejas sincero e&lt;br /&gt;espero que o sejas sem eu te pedir&lt;br /&gt;Pois quando te peço&lt;br /&gt;as palavras eu meço&lt;br /&gt;e ingresso&lt;br /&gt;num néscio rodeio infantil&lt;br /&gt;Não quero assustar-te,&lt;br /&gt;ou ainda abafar-te, pois&lt;br /&gt;creio ser arte manter-te&lt;br /&gt;aqui&lt;br /&gt;Quando estás comigo,&lt;br /&gt;entendes o que digo&lt;br /&gt;És meu abrigo&lt;br /&gt;um amigo&lt;br /&gt;és perigo que eu sigo&lt;br /&gt;cega sem medo&lt;br /&gt;e me perco&lt;br /&gt;no enredo que há tempos&lt;br /&gt;eu mesma&lt;br /&gt;traço pra mim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Poema classificado e publicado no livro do 9º Concurso de Poesias da Universidade Federal de São João del-Rei. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-27261762253296473?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/27261762253296473/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=27261762253296473&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/27261762253296473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/27261762253296473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/04/rodas.html' title='Rodas'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-5896519809201543439</id><published>2008-04-11T10:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T10:50:30.517-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O gato</title><content type='html'>Palavras jogadas&lt;br /&gt;Que fazem vento&lt;br /&gt;Palavras faladas&lt;br /&gt;Palavras caladas&lt;br /&gt;Palavras que sinto&lt;br /&gt;E minto&lt;br /&gt;E miro&lt;br /&gt;O gato miando&lt;br /&gt;Na beira do abismo&lt;br /&gt;Em cima do muro&lt;br /&gt;Um gato preto&lt;br /&gt;De olhos prateados&lt;br /&gt;O gato mia&lt;br /&gt;E eu escuto&lt;br /&gt;Palavras,palavras&lt;br /&gt;Palavras de muro&lt;br /&gt;Palavras de mudo&lt;br /&gt;Palavras de gato&lt;br /&gt;Palavras,de fato&lt;br /&gt;Miaus no escuro&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-5896519809201543439?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/5896519809201543439/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=5896519809201543439&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5896519809201543439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5896519809201543439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/04/o-gato.html' title='O gato'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-8961089232277845589</id><published>2008-04-02T19:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T20:25:14.759-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feitiço</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Tu viste as flores se abrirem?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Eu vi. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Sentiste o gelado do orvalho?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Eu senti. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Tomei folhas de hortelã&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;E delas fiz uma infusão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Deixei o ambiente perfumado,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Meu espírito regenerado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;E saí pelo jardim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Roubei das pétalas, suas cores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Das folhas,seus odores,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Guardei tudo dentro de mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não esperei que secassem,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Não deixei que perdessem o viço.&lt;br /&gt;Quem não corre riscos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Não cria feitiço.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Joguei-me no caldeirão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;E esperei que meu corpo se dissolvesse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Em mágica poção.&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/8925212801146305281-8961089232277845589?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/8961089232277845589/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=8961089232277845589&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/8961089232277845589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/8961089232277845589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/04/feitio.html' title='Feitiço'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-4935717779152714234</id><published>2008-03-29T22:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-29T23:00:12.984-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vontades</title><content type='html'>Por vezes tenho umas vontades súbitas&lt;br /&gt;Que são,em si, meio contraditórias:&lt;br /&gt;Passar noites de férias em claro, sozinha,&lt;br /&gt;Passar noites em claro em festas lotadas;&lt;br /&gt;Sair pela rua a pé, de madrugada,&lt;br /&gt;Ficar em casa e me sentir segura;&lt;br /&gt;Gastar muito dinheiro em muitas bobagens,&lt;br /&gt;Economizar pra fazer uma viagem.&lt;br /&gt;Algumas vontades vêm e passam,&lt;br /&gt;Algumas se istalam aqui.&lt;br /&gt;Por elas me sinto meio contraditória&lt;br /&gt;Mas não nego,&lt;br /&gt;É notória,&lt;br /&gt;A vontade que tenho de todas suprir.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-4935717779152714234?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/4935717779152714234/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=4935717779152714234&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/4935717779152714234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/4935717779152714234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/03/vontades.html' title='Vontades'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-3902770708351428520</id><published>2008-03-18T07:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T07:30:47.059-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Orações</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Toca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Eu desligo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;                       Você irado comigo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Eu não queria atender, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Será que você não vê?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Não conseguir falar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;É um mero erro de conexão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Pior é falar e não se fazer entender,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Pior é falhar a comunicação.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Quero ficar a sós com os meus fantasmas,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Queria ver você correr pra mim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Correu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Mas errou a preposição.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;PARA-DE-PARA-DE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;                               Pára.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-3902770708351428520?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/3902770708351428520/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=3902770708351428520&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/3902770708351428520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/3902770708351428520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/03/oraes.html' title='Orações'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-2620700277373518078</id><published>2008-03-18T07:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T07:24:50.604-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonoro</title><content type='html'>Rima barata na hora errada&lt;br /&gt;Poeminha imundo&lt;br /&gt;Não tenho mais nenhum segundo&lt;br /&gt;Vou gritar pro mundo:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;   ÉS MEU.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-2620700277373518078?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/2620700277373518078/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=2620700277373518078&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/2620700277373518078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/2620700277373518078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/03/sonoro.html' title='Sonoro'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-3519965994113976492</id><published>2008-03-09T19:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T19:32:44.061-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jogo de sombras</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;É estranho como tudo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Fica claro no escuro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;O medo,o rancor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;O desejo, até o amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;É engraçado como nada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Se revela na luz clara&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-3519965994113976492?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/3519965994113976492/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=3519965994113976492&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/3519965994113976492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/3519965994113976492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/03/estranho-como-tudo-fica-claro-no-escuro.html' title='Jogo de sombras'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-4991688655227211576</id><published>2008-03-09T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T19:29:13.167-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ego-centro-ísmo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ah, eu gosto mesmo de uns ismos:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dizer que é machismo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Fazer neologismo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Cair no niilismo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Partir pro fascismo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Pular num abismo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;E até um pouco de cinismo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Que não faz mal a ninguém&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/8925212801146305281-4991688655227211576?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/4991688655227211576/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=4991688655227211576&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/4991688655227211576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/4991688655227211576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/03/ego-centro-smo.html' title='Ego-centro-ísmo'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-1231203424455651272</id><published>2008-03-09T19:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T19:25:49.128-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Literatura</title><content type='html'>Em Shakespeare me sinto em casa&lt;br /&gt;Mas em Goethe, nem uma gota de depressão&lt;br /&gt;Nos best-sellers o mundo fica bonito&lt;br /&gt;Critico Saramago e crio um conflito&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leio Machado e fico romântica&lt;br /&gt;Leio Pessoa e penso demais&lt;br /&gt;Leio Veríssimo e saboreio&lt;br /&gt;A sensação que cada livro traz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sou Julieta, Iaiá, Clarissa&lt;br /&gt;Sou eu, não importa quem for&lt;br /&gt;Escrevo o que eu leio&lt;br /&gt;E não li a bíblia&lt;br /&gt;Depois que o fizer&lt;br /&gt;Vou desisitir de ser mulher?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-1231203424455651272?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/1231203424455651272/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=1231203424455651272&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/1231203424455651272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/1231203424455651272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/03/literatura.html' title='Literatura'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-5615405545248513860</id><published>2008-03-01T06:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T16:24:38.722-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ímpeto</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ah, vá se catar!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Mas se cate muito bem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Que eu juntei os meus pedaços&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Me maquiei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Botei um par de saltos &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;E estou indo te esquecer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-5615405545248513860?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/5615405545248513860/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=5615405545248513860&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5615405545248513860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5615405545248513860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/03/ah-v-se-catar-mas-se-cate-muito-bem-que.html' title='Ímpeto'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-3416158824275558450</id><published>2008-03-01T06:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T16:23:49.004-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ele</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Ele não gosta muito de rimas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Pensei em tentar parar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Ele gosta muito de música&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;La la la la, la la&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Ele gosta do escuro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Eu abro portas e janelas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Ele acha que eu o aturo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Engraçado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Ele não é inseguro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Ele fica com os choros&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;Eu, com as velas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-3416158824275558450?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/3416158824275558450/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=3416158824275558450&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/3416158824275558450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/3416158824275558450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/03/ele-no-gosta-muito-de-rimas-pensei-em.html' title='Ele'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-5296616864837358795</id><published>2008-03-01T06:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T16:22:24.389-08:00</updated><title type='text'>.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Eu é que não vou mudar pra um convento!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Quanto menos coisas eu faço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tenho menos tempo&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/8925212801146305281-5296616864837358795?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/5296616864837358795/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=5296616864837358795&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5296616864837358795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5296616864837358795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/03/eu-que-no-vou-mudar-pra-um-convento.html' title='.'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-6558918231340132578</id><published>2008-02-22T19:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T19:48:42.950-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuga</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Eu rio dos pobres coitados&lt;br /&gt;Que não têm pra onde fugir&lt;br /&gt;Adentro o meu casco&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Medito&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;                                          Extravaso&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                           Te deixo partir.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-6558918231340132578?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/6558918231340132578/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=6558918231340132578&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/6558918231340132578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/6558918231340132578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/02/eu-rio-dos-pobres-coitados-que-no-tm.html' title='Fuga'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-3341854961558904107</id><published>2008-02-22T19:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T16:21:59.622-08:00</updated><title type='text'>.</title><content type='html'>Ah, que mundo fantástico!&lt;br /&gt;Se eu virar boneca de plástico&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém vai se importar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-3341854961558904107?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/3341854961558904107/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=3341854961558904107&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/3341854961558904107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/3341854961558904107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/02/ah-que-mundo-fantstico-se-eu-virar.html' title='.'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-7259900145703498788</id><published>2008-02-15T05:09:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T18:09:29.559-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ninho</title><content type='html'>Tenho vontade de arrancar-te a alma&lt;br /&gt;E colocá-la pra ninar,&lt;br /&gt;Quando me perdes para a rua,&lt;br /&gt;Quando te mato de tanto esperar.&lt;br /&gt;Quero mudar a cabeça tua,&lt;br /&gt;Fazer-te entender&lt;br /&gt;Que discordar não é pecado,&lt;br /&gt;Pecado é brigar sem querer.&lt;br /&gt;Se te diriges à sombra,&lt;br /&gt;Eu não o posso fazer.&lt;br /&gt;Se o faço, é hecatombe!&lt;br /&gt;Não sobram rainhas nem reis.&lt;br /&gt;A tua evanescência&lt;br /&gt;Me arde na ponta da língua.&lt;br /&gt;Não jogo pedras nem beijos,&lt;br /&gt;Evito deixar-te à míngua,&lt;br /&gt;Mas quando exiges que eu te pertença&lt;br /&gt;Quando não me queres dividir&lt;br /&gt;Assinas a minha ausência&lt;br /&gt;Pois, embora não tenha aparência,&lt;br /&gt;Sou pássaro livre que quer sair.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-7259900145703498788?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/7259900145703498788/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=7259900145703498788&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/7259900145703498788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/7259900145703498788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/02/ninho.html' title='Ninho'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-4355101301954840316</id><published>2008-01-10T12:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T17:34:08.107-08:00</updated><title type='text'>O piano</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Pensou no ano de 1834. Naquele grande salão iluminado e na abundância de pessoas arrumadas para impressionar a sociedade. Nas senhoras gordas, com suas bochechas avermelhadas, arfando após a contra-dança ou observando, com olhares atentos, suas filhas trocarem olhares com os moços do baile. Alguns casais dançavam a animada música no meio do salão. Um grupo de moças, reunidas em um canto, soltava risadinhas e constantemente passavam os olhos por todo o recinto a procura de seus amados ou de novos assuntos e motivos para chacotas. Numa sacada, dois moços muito parecidos conversavam. Era provável que fossem irmãos e pareciam não estar muito interessados na festa. Duas pequenas meninas corriam pelo salão balançando seus cachos louros e seus vestidinhos engomados. Um senhor de idade bocejava, envolto em lembranças dos seus "tempos de baile". Um homem com um grande bigode preto, que dançava com uma mulher de cabelos castanhos e grandes e chamativos olhos verdes parecia tão interessado na dança quanto estaria um lobo frente a um pé de couve. A cadeira com espaldar alto, feita em madeira escura, parecia não agradar ao velho senhor que bocejara. Ele se remexia em seu assento, procurando uma posição que agradasse suas velhas costas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O grande lustre pendurado bem ao centro da sala era magnífico, mas passava despercebido pela maior parte dos convidados. O lustre conferia uma beleza cristalina à decoração, mas somente olhares atentos - ou olhares entediados da festa, que passassem a procurar recantos inexplorados do lugar - perceberiam sua existência. As grandes janelas de vidro, cujas cortinas bordô haviam sido afastadas, revelaram uma noite estrelada, mas sem lua. As árvores balançavam levemente lá fora, embaladas pela mesma brisa que por vezes inundava o salão, refrescando os convivas em seus abafados trajes em estilo europeu. Algumas mulheres, procurando acabar com o calor da bela noite, abanavam-se com seus leques, chamando a atenção para seus grandes decotes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A luz amarelada do salão deixava as pessoas mais belas. Realçava as peles embranquecidas pelo pó de arroz das mulheres. Destacava os olhos fortes e firmes dos homens. Fazia todos os movimentos parecerem leves e graciosos. Conferia ao salão uma atmosfera de memorabilidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Havia um leve cheiro de comida misturado com o perfume das flores do jardim. A proximidade da primavera liberava uma diversidade de odores, mas o delicado jasmim branco, de toque suave e perfume penetrante, sobressaía-se.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O dono da casa anuncia sua jovem filha e a dirige até o piano. Todos se sentam para apreciar a música.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, um noturno... Música triste e sóbria, que invade a alma e traz a tona os sentimentos mais profundos . Toca os ouvidos como um lamento sublime naquela noite de lua negra. Expõe o lado sombrio da jovem pianista, que parece tocar com o coração enquanto passa os longos e delicados dedos pelas teclas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alguém toca em seu ombro e faz com que ele saia do breve transe em que se encontra. Olhos fixados na grande taça de cristal em cima da mesa, é preciso que pisque ainda algumas vezes até perceber que é o garçom que lhe oferece mais champagne. Bebe um grande gole e conclui que prefere a beleza fantasiosa dos seus salões do século XIX ao requinte palpável em que se encontra. Sente-se como um peixe agonizando na beira do mar. Ah, os noturnos... sempre aguçam sua imaginação, que tanto se parece com memória. Toma mais um gole e volta a pensar no salão do baile. E o descreve, minuciosamente, para si mesmo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-4355101301954840316?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/4355101301954840316/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=4355101301954840316&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/4355101301954840316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/4355101301954840316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/01/o-piano.html' title='O piano'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-5607188482288215064</id><published>2008-01-07T08:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T08:54:44.062-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lino</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oculto por Lino Pires&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Papai acha que engana a alguém&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oh,tolinho insensato&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Não vê que, no anonimato,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Esconde o talento que tem!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANO NOVO [Lino Pires]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depois de uma noite de lua quase cheia,&lt;br /&gt;Vejo o dia amanhecer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entrevejo Vesper entre&lt;br /&gt;As grades da minha janela.&lt;br /&gt;Fico pensando:Diabos, estarei preso eu ou ela?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afinal, eu posso abrir a porta,&lt;br /&gt;Sair com o meu cachorro,&lt;br /&gt;Fazer xixi no poste,&lt;br /&gt; Passear, pedir socorro,&lt;br /&gt;Se for esse o meu entendimento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto isso, aquela mísera luzinha azulecida&lt;br /&gt;Estará para sempre fixa&lt;br /&gt;Em um incerto lugar no firmamento,&lt;br /&gt;Sem poder falar, sem poder chorar,&lt;br /&gt;Sem poder sair do seu lugar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apenas pulsando a luz reflexa,&lt;br /&gt;Até que o dia amanheça&lt;br /&gt;E ela desapareça.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;______________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D I S T Â N C I A [Lino Pires]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A distância é ambígua,&lt;br /&gt;Traiçoeira e trágica.&lt;br /&gt;Balsâmica e antropofágica.&lt;br /&gt;Alimenta-se de amores&lt;br /&gt;E de dores .&lt;br /&gt;Cura as feridas de um amor falido&lt;br /&gt;E suga a seiva de outro,&lt;br /&gt;Que queria ser vivido.&lt;br /&gt;É idiota e sábia,&lt;br /&gt;Formosa e feia.&lt;br /&gt;Sensual e perigosa,&lt;br /&gt;Como uma sereia.&lt;br /&gt;Mas vivo no mar,&lt;br /&gt;Não tenho medo de navegar.&lt;br /&gt;Um pouco sou como ela,&lt;br /&gt;Desafio-a .&lt;br /&gt;Inflo um farrapo de vela,&lt;br /&gt;Náufrago orgulhoso,&lt;br /&gt;Como Ulisses,&lt;br /&gt;E sonho um porto seguro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-5607188482288215064?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/5607188482288215064/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=5607188482288215064&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5607188482288215064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5607188482288215064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/01/lino.html' title='Lino'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-1894218581012515695</id><published>2008-01-04T12:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-12T12:09:30.167-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cacos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Para ela,que sabe quem é. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Em nome de todas as incríveis coincidências... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Por essa,em especial.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Algo se quebrara naquele dia. Não tinha certeza se havia sido algo dentro do seu peito oprimido ou se fora o invólucro de cristal que a havia protegido todos aqueles anos. Algo se quebrara.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Temia ter exposto sua tristeza e fraqueza, seus indícios de humanidade. Não, não era divina. Não era um anjo. Contivera lágrimas e reprimira dores e amores, impulsionada pelo insano medo de se expôr. Sentia-se nua.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Não sabia se aquilo que se quebrara havia tranformado-a em alguém diferente. A possibilidade e o segredo pareciam fazer parte dela. Guardar partes de si para egoista e vagarosamente mostrar apenas para sí própria pareciam descrever traços de sua personalidade. Havia mundos inteiros em seu coração que ela não explorara, aguardando o momento em que eles se revelassem espontaneamente diante de seus olhos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Algo se quebrara naquele dia. Algo que havia ferido profundamente sua alma, que agora parecia perdida e sem limites. Crescera indefinidamente. Por momentos havia se arrependido, por momentos se regozijara. Sentia-se liberta e aprisionada, como que limitada por suas próprias ilimitações. Uma nova bolha se formara sobre ela, fazendo-a almejar os novos horizontes que avistava. Temia a liberdade alcançada e a possibilidade de se ferir em seus próprios cacos. Aquilo que se quebrara pulsava e rasgava dentro de si.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Agora ela sabia &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;o quanto doía&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;voar.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-1894218581012515695?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/1894218581012515695/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=1894218581012515695&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/1894218581012515695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/1894218581012515695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/01/cacos.html' title='Cacos'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-2184975162429167019</id><published>2008-01-03T08:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T08:20:55.493-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Contornos</title><content type='html'>Que lábios sagrados são esses que tens!&lt;br /&gt;São lábios que cantam&lt;br /&gt;São lábios que falam&lt;br /&gt;São lábios que exalam&lt;br /&gt;Pedaços de ti&lt;br /&gt;Que eu quero sorver&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-2184975162429167019?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/2184975162429167019/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=2184975162429167019&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/2184975162429167019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/2184975162429167019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/01/contornos.html' title='Contornos'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-1613010327457363051</id><published>2008-01-03T08:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T08:14:46.950-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Simplicidade</title><content type='html'>Eu ando pela rua&lt;br /&gt;Tiro os óculos escuros&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero ver as flores,&lt;br /&gt;quero ver as cores,&lt;br /&gt;quero ver o céu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-1613010327457363051?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/1613010327457363051/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=1613010327457363051&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/1613010327457363051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/1613010327457363051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/01/simplicidade.html' title='Simplicidade'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-8424744956268468690</id><published>2008-01-03T08:13:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T08:13:35.964-08:00</updated><title type='text'>À noite</title><content type='html'>Não trago comigo só o teu cheiro&lt;br /&gt;Te trago inteiro&lt;br /&gt;Te trago e te sigo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não é só meu cheiro que deixo contigo&lt;br /&gt;Me esqueço e fico&lt;br /&gt;Adormeço em ti.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-8424744956268468690?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/8424744956268468690/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=8424744956268468690&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/8424744956268468690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/8424744956268468690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/01/noite.html' title='À noite'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-3336126106192146869</id><published>2008-01-03T08:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T08:23:19.322-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Divagação</title><content type='html'>____________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O traço e uma marca no tempo.&lt;br /&gt;É a marca do tempo.&lt;br /&gt;É o tempo na marca.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-3336126106192146869?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/3336126106192146869/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=3336126106192146869&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/3336126106192146869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/3336126106192146869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/01/divagao.html' title='Divagação'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-1055298619561118723</id><published>2008-01-03T07:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T12:24:22.110-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Entre sinos e sinestesia</title><content type='html'>Quero uma flor de pétalas largas&lt;br /&gt;Onde eu possa sentar e sentir o vento&lt;br /&gt;E ver o mar, o meu alento&lt;br /&gt;E estar em outro lugar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ter nos braços, borboletas&lt;br /&gt;Pés de brisa a brincar&lt;br /&gt;Os cabelos que não param&lt;br /&gt;Raios de sol que exalam&lt;br /&gt;Os perfumes mais bonitos&lt;br /&gt;Dos quais posso recordar&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-1055298619561118723?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/1055298619561118723/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=1055298619561118723&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/1055298619561118723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/1055298619561118723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/01/entre-sinos-e-sinestesia.html' title='Entre sinos e sinestesia'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-6077581649182032486</id><published>2008-01-03T07:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T08:10:10.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Perguntas e respostas</title><content type='html'>Quanto vale tua honra?&lt;br /&gt;Por quanto vendes teu coração?&lt;br /&gt;Num céu, escuro e sombrio&lt;br /&gt;Tu nao vales nada&lt;br /&gt;Frente ao infinito, és curta passada&lt;br /&gt;Caminhas em ti&lt;br /&gt;O infinito és tu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quanto vale tua honra?&lt;br /&gt;Por quanto vendes teu coração?&lt;br /&gt;Minha alma vale mais&lt;br /&gt;Que os cantos dos teus sonhos&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-6077581649182032486?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/6077581649182032486/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=6077581649182032486&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/6077581649182032486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/6077581649182032486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/01/quanto-vale-tua-honra-por-quanto-vendes.html' title='Perguntas e respostas'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-8986817725546168914</id><published>2008-01-03T07:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T12:25:03.873-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Contículo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Olhava sua imagem no espelho com um misto de medo e ansiedade. O silêncio foi quebrado pela campainha. Era ela, com certeza.&lt;br /&gt;Tudo começara naquela tarde, na praia. Ele, sozinho, sentado, olhava para o mar, esperando respostas às suas indagações. Não era fácil ser um solitário a ver o pôr-do-sol junto a tantos casais. Ela, entediada com a superficialidade dos assuntos do namorado, reparou nas ondas que quebravam mansamente, nas crianças brincando, naquele rapaz tão absorto em pensamentos, que parecia não ter mais nada ao seu redor. Admirou-o calada, tentando conter a vontade de sentar-se ao seu lado e compartilhar daquele silêncio tão profundo, mas que dizia muito mais do que tudo que já ouvira. "É o que eu sempre quis.", pensou. "É o que eu nunca encontrei."&lt;br /&gt;A cidade era pequena. Ela pensou que não seria difícil encontrá-lo. Foram ao supermercado, ela e o namorado, e, distraídos com latas de sardinha, nem repararam naquele garoto que os fitava no fim do corredor. "Meu Deus, como é linda!", ele pensava. E desejava ter estado com ela até há pouco, sentados na praia. Mesmo que fosse em silêncio, só para ouvir sua respiração...Encontrara suas respostas.&lt;br /&gt;O verão terminou, cada um voltou para sua cidade. Ela pensava nele constantemente, sabendo que ele não a havia visto na praia. Ele sempre lembrava dela, com a certeza de que não o havia visto no mercado. Ambos acreditavam que nunca mais veriam um ao outro.&lt;br /&gt;Um ano se passou, o namoro dela acabou, outro verão veio. Ele ia todos os dias ao mercado, na esperança de encontrá-la; ela ia todos os dias à praia tentar vê-lo. Um dia, ele desistiu. E foi novamente procurar suas respostas no mar. Sentou-se sozinho, nem percebeu quando ela se aproximou. Olharam-se, permaneceram em silêncio. No fim da tarde, trocaram telefones. Ele a chamou para jantar em sua casa, ela concordou. Aguardaram, ambos, como se fossem seus últimos minutos. Ela respirou fundo antes de apertar o botão: não era mais o silêncio que os ligava.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-8986817725546168914?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/8986817725546168914/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=8986817725546168914&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/8986817725546168914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/8986817725546168914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/01/contculo.html' title='Contículo'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-5338595099187401706</id><published>2008-01-03T07:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T12:29:06.259-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tempos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;No dia em que o mundo virou&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Foi minha alma que caiu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não que meu corpo seja imóvel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Eu é que sou mais leve que o céu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não quero parecer uma pequena flor indefesa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não quero perecer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não vou inventar a tua clareza&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não vou evitar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Se o céu não fosse azul&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;De que cor seria o mar?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tal qual eu e você&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Eles formam um par...um par.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E se não houvesse o vento&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;De que forma seriam as ondas?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oceano e firmamento&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Espalhando essas afrontas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-5338595099187401706?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/5338595099187401706/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=5338595099187401706&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5338595099187401706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5338595099187401706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/01/tempos.html' title='Tempos'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-2761555369379774655</id><published>2008-01-03T07:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T12:28:42.187-08:00</updated><title type='text'>O vazio</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Procuro palavras em gestos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encontro páginas em branco.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8925212801146305281-2761555369379774655?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/2761555369379774655/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=2761555369379774655&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/2761555369379774655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/2761555369379774655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/01/o-vazio.html' title='O vazio'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8925212801146305281.post-5432927382417012974</id><published>2008-01-03T07:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T08:09:08.212-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sobre o que fala o nada</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;"&gt;Se alguém já sentiu o que sinto, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;"&gt;cale-se!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;"&gt;Pois o silêncio fala aos apaixonados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;"&gt;Como as palavras falam à solidão.&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/8925212801146305281-5432927382417012974?l=luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/feeds/5432927382417012974/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8925212801146305281&amp;postID=5432927382417012974&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5432927382417012974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8925212801146305281/posts/default/5432927382417012974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luadeprataemceudecarvao.blogspot.com/2008/01/se-algum-j-sentiu-o-que-sinto-cale-se.html' title='Sobre o que fala o nada'/><author><name>Ilana Kenne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07100999912268154909</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SKtbR0h7uK4/SeyG4ZNICUI/AAAAAAAAABY/-p5Um2o6Iag/S220/Nana+i.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
