<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;DkAFSXkyfip7ImA9WhVUE08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1933898002973611659</id><updated>2012-05-18T04:05:18.796-03:00</updated><category term="O Caminho a Verdade e a Vida" /><category term="Saudade" /><title>Acordes Para a Vida ♫</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Patrick Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03746131814628261605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="15" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ltf_EdtuZok/TV3iyDA7M5I/AAAAAAAADLU/chLLn67PfIM/s220/tikcs.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>45</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/AcordesParaAVida" /><feedburner:info uri="acordesparaavida" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkYGRH4_fyp7ImA9WhVUEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1933898002973611659.post-7644333423355328879</id><published>2012-05-17T00:08:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2012-05-17T00:08:45.047-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-17T00:08:45.047-03:00</app:edited><title>Pulando Mapas da Cidade</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Em meio a inspirações e obrigações de um dia normal,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
A distração carrega para longe, o pensamento não sei para
onde,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Só vejo que acordando para esse mundo, ele já não é igual.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Na verdade bem no fundo, eu já sei qual é seu caminho,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Mas até chegar, vou caminhando sozinho,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Até chegar à fronteira que permite atravessar.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E pousar... De um voo com destino à realidade,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Que tantas vezes achamos não ser verdade,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Mas que pode traduzir em gestos, palavras de felicidade.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
O tempo vive e é feliz, por que em si, não há tempo.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E o tempo que o tempo vive, corre tão depressa quanto o átomo
que vai pulsar.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Diferente de nós que precisamos esperar,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Verdade parecida com a dela, que comigo há de concordar.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Espera o vento, o céu e uma estrela,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Espera... O barco a vela... Ele e ela.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E era para ser no cais do porto,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Alegre é mais, onde o sol esconde.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Para a luz do farol atrás do monte, &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Que o guia perdido no escuro,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Mas viaja destemido até o muro.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Para subir e pular,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Sentir e ficar,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Acordado até tarde,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Para sonhar de olho aberto a realidade.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Idade não existe para a saudade,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Que invade, pulando os mapas da cidade.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E ao fim, tudo volta ao seu lugar,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
A folha, caneta e muito rascunho, só de pensar,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E tentar por alusões e palavras, se aproximar.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E melhor ficar, por conseguir assim expressar,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E no fim da pequena leitura, um grande sorriso seu,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Mesmo de tão longe eu consigo ganhar.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
11h34min 16/05/2012&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-srxDgD8wc5A/T7RroKCvd4I/AAAAAAAAD4w/N7u2xdrWUSM/s1600/mapa-brasil+inclusive.org.br.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-srxDgD8wc5A/T7RroKCvd4I/AAAAAAAAD4w/N7u2xdrWUSM/s320/mapa-brasil+inclusive.org.br.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/1933898002973611659-7644333423355328879?l=acoordesparavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WQiC8nqM0bjJTvFw5mH2bvFEiM4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WQiC8nqM0bjJTvFw5mH2bvFEiM4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~4/HJ0Th-YK1Ew" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/feeds/7644333423355328879/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/05/pulando-mapas-da-cidade.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/7644333423355328879?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/7644333423355328879?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~3/HJ0Th-YK1Ew/pulando-mapas-da-cidade.html" title="Pulando Mapas da Cidade" /><author><name>Patrick Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03746131814628261605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="15" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ltf_EdtuZok/TV3iyDA7M5I/AAAAAAAADLU/chLLn67PfIM/s220/tikcs.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-srxDgD8wc5A/T7RroKCvd4I/AAAAAAAAD4w/N7u2xdrWUSM/s72-c/mapa-brasil+inclusive.org.br.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/05/pulando-mapas-da-cidade.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMHQH0zeSp7ImA9WhVUEEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1933898002973611659.post-1249275234461037372</id><published>2012-05-15T00:43:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2012-05-15T00:43:51.381-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-15T00:43:51.381-03:00</app:edited><title>Estórias e histórias</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Quando as historias são felizes,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Não temos tempo para escrever historias.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Apenas são guardadas no fundo de nossas memórias,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Algo simples que orbita entre alegrias e vitórias.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Só pensamos em grava-las lá no fundo,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Na verdade é porque estamos em outro mundo,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Longe de todos e tudo, mergulhados em um mar profundo.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Distantes do imundo, próximos do jardim que vamos para
lembrar,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Aproximando melodia e verso da canção que prometemos cantar,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E aos olhares dos outros lá fora, a exemplo vamos encantar.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E lembrar...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
14/05/2012 14h23min&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-meoqjQ_3898/T7HQ76AqcGI/AAAAAAAAD4k/mp-_xvG2Ddc/s1600/writing_by_after_the_party.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-meoqjQ_3898/T7HQ76AqcGI/AAAAAAAAD4k/mp-_xvG2Ddc/s320/writing_by_after_the_party.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/1933898002973611659-1249275234461037372?l=acoordesparavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1jef_BTLjMdoGyhoWmPRY4r5DfI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1jef_BTLjMdoGyhoWmPRY4r5DfI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~4/2obF7Ko0VUU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/feeds/1249275234461037372/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/05/estorias-e-historias.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/1249275234461037372?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/1249275234461037372?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~3/2obF7Ko0VUU/estorias-e-historias.html" title="Estórias e histórias" /><author><name>Patrick Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03746131814628261605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="15" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ltf_EdtuZok/TV3iyDA7M5I/AAAAAAAADLU/chLLn67PfIM/s220/tikcs.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-meoqjQ_3898/T7HQ76AqcGI/AAAAAAAAD4k/mp-_xvG2Ddc/s72-c/writing_by_after_the_party.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/05/estorias-e-historias.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQAQ307fCp7ImA9WhVVGUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1933898002973611659.post-4339806122728936997</id><published>2012-05-13T23:42:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2012-05-13T23:42:22.304-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-13T23:42:22.304-03:00</app:edited><title>Efeitos sonoros noturnos</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Eu sinto um
ar de saudade,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Olho para
fora,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Está escuro
agora,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E a lua para
mim não vai aparecer.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Eu sinto o
vento na cara,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Sinto o frio
que não para,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Mas dentro
do coração,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Não faz mais
nada se não nos aquecer.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E isso eu
não vou perder,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Daqui a
pouco vamos nos ver.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E de canto a
canto o sorriso no rosto,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Bem tímido
vai aparecer.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Os carros
que correm ao longe,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
A natureza
que do frio se esconde,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Fazem o
cenário sonoro que embala a noite,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E fugiremos sós
nós dois, e sabemos para onde.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
A rima atrai
o poema, assim como o ferro atrai o imã.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Como ventos
quentes que chegam correndo lá de cima,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E aqui em
baixo, o melhor da noite fria,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
É fugir para
o mundo onde os seres deixam&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
A mente e a
vida cada vez mais aquecida.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
13/05/12 23h23min&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
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&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/1933898002973611659-4339806122728936997?l=acoordesparavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7CxiLtntd556vOP5LBIWZq_N4m0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7CxiLtntd556vOP5LBIWZq_N4m0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~4/vki4EQhlMz4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/feeds/4339806122728936997/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/05/efeitos-sonoros-noturnos.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/4339806122728936997?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/4339806122728936997?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~3/vki4EQhlMz4/efeitos-sonoros-noturnos.html" title="Efeitos sonoros noturnos" /><author><name>Patrick Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03746131814628261605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="15" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ltf_EdtuZok/TV3iyDA7M5I/AAAAAAAADLU/chLLn67PfIM/s220/tikcs.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8RYPBzJ9nBk/T7BxBcV2g8I/AAAAAAAAD4Y/tY3RXiwdqW8/s72-c/floresta.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/05/efeitos-sonoros-noturnos.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0YAQnw8cSp7ImA9WhVVGEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1933898002973611659.post-6983148396987042782</id><published>2012-05-13T03:05:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2012-05-13T03:05:43.279-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-13T03:05:43.279-03:00</app:edited><title>E quem vai saber?</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Sinto-me
chamado pelo sono para partir,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Para o mundo
dos sonhos viajar e desse mundo sair.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Mas a lua
timidamente antes me convida,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
A escrever
poucas palavras ou alguma coisa parecida.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Passam
minutos, horas ou dias,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E a memória
catalisa coisas de grande valia,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ou grande
seria nosso querer bem, bem grande dessas pessoas?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Dessas
letras, sinceras e singelas que leio ao antes de adormecer,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Desse
pensamento, simples e alegre que faço referencia logo ao amanhecer&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E quem vai
saber?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Quem de nós
vai compreender todo o mistério do que há de acontecer?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ou o que há de
tão oculto em algo que continuamos a ver?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E quem vai
saber?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E como vou
acender?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
A vela que
embeleza o quarto sem luz,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Que ilumina
o caminho que o viajante sozinho conduz...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E como há de
acontecer?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Na busca por
uma vida atenta,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Contemplando
os gestos de uma forma lenta.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ganhando presentes
dos seres, fogo que nos esquenta.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Chama que
magnificamente se contempla&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Raramente
tão igual alguém a apresenta&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Confusões no
pensar&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Cama e boa
noite de sonho começam a desejar&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E um abraço
de longe faz gestos no ar&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Abro fotos
para olhar, e o olhar que brilha,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Estrelas
brilham, e aqui me surgiram.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ideias de
como meu céu as tintas coloriram.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Pintaram em
cima,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Pintaram um
clima,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Continuo na pintura
da tela do nosso coração,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Sozinho
conversando e ouvindo vozes vindas da minha emoção.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
13/05/2012 02h56min&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1933898002973611659-6983148396987042782?l=acoordesparavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1mcv1sjYkANVe999imqbqLvC47U/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1mcv1sjYkANVe999imqbqLvC47U/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1mcv1sjYkANVe999imqbqLvC47U/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1mcv1sjYkANVe999imqbqLvC47U/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~4/ru1SARaQLaA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/feeds/6983148396987042782/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/05/e-quem-vai-saber.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/6983148396987042782?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/6983148396987042782?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~3/ru1SARaQLaA/e-quem-vai-saber.html" title="E quem vai saber?" /><author><name>Patrick Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03746131814628261605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="15" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ltf_EdtuZok/TV3iyDA7M5I/AAAAAAAADLU/chLLn67PfIM/s220/tikcs.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/05/e-quem-vai-saber.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEYMQHw9fCp7ImA9WhVVF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1933898002973611659.post-451336965768707037</id><published>2012-05-11T10:16:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2012-05-11T10:16:21.264-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-11T10:16:21.264-03:00</app:edited><title>Manhãs cinzas</title><content type="html">Manhãs
cinzas de outono,&lt;br /&gt;


&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
O vento
forte e frio anuncia a chuva que está a caminho.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Será que
ficarei o dia inteiro sozinho?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Onde está a
manhã, que ontem o amanhã seria com outros planos?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Passam anos,
e vamos sempre passando pela mesma fase,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Escrevendo
uma diferente frase, digna do seu esplendor.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Digna do
amor.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Amordaçar
bocas que gritam sem parar,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
No silêncio
dos nossos ouvidos.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Pensamentos
que ficam oprimidos,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
De coisas
que a distancia não consegue nos dar.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ou o tempo
está querendo nos testar?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Mas cada dia
que passa é um dia a menos,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
São dias
amenos, cinzas, silenciosos e que nos fazem voltar.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Que nos
fazem sonhar,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Que deixa o
coração bater,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E a alma
esperar.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E devemos
mesmo nos alegrar!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Colorir o
dia preto e branco que a vida nos oferece,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Mudar o
sentido da vida de quem merece,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Levar e
elevar a conversa e o coração de alguém que nos enriquece.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Enfim,
dançar com o tempo,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Dedilhar o
violão com o silêncio.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Lembrar-se
da lua matinal logo cedo,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E sorrir,
pois sim.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
O inicio nos
fará melhores até o fim,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ao fim do
dia em que havia lua e sol atrás das nuvens,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Iluminando
timidamente aquele mesmo jardim.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Que você
visita para pensar em mim,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ou ao menos
eu pense que seja assim.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ciclos de
trocas e equilíbrios simples enfim,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ligando
acasos e almas, do início ao fim.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
11/05/2012
09h58min&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W4F-XIzdZ2M/T60RBhU1uiI/AAAAAAAAD4M/pfjBogRQiyg/s1600/Mohawk_bench_in_fog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="214" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W4F-XIzdZ2M/T60RBhU1uiI/AAAAAAAAD4M/pfjBogRQiyg/s320/Mohawk_bench_in_fog.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mcAFWzeqetwI5vEm5UnHBHW0ZV4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mcAFWzeqetwI5vEm5UnHBHW0ZV4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~4/AQW5Y0dAqF4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/feeds/451336965768707037/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/05/manhas-cinzas.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/451336965768707037?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/451336965768707037?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~3/AQW5Y0dAqF4/manhas-cinzas.html" title="Manhãs cinzas" /><author><name>Patrick Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03746131814628261605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="15" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ltf_EdtuZok/TV3iyDA7M5I/AAAAAAAADLU/chLLn67PfIM/s220/tikcs.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W4F-XIzdZ2M/T60RBhU1uiI/AAAAAAAAD4M/pfjBogRQiyg/s72-c/Mohawk_bench_in_fog.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/05/manhas-cinzas.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUYBSHc_fSp7ImA9WhVVFU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1933898002973611659.post-3584570938120173940</id><published>2012-05-08T22:32:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2012-05-08T22:32:39.945-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-08T22:32:39.945-03:00</app:edited><title>Resposta</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Pensei em gritar emocionado,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Sobre a resposta que eu tinha pensado.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Depois dos versos curtos que li,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Alguma palavra bela que da boca queria sair.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Mas penso que os mesmos versos,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Podem viajar por milhares de universos.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Submersos de alegria e positividade,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Para uma resposta que sacie a curiosidade.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Faço companhia à lua, aos versos e ao meu eu interior.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
À música calma que inspira a alma,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E a obrigação de respondê-la com palavras de valor.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Quero pegar o livro na mão 10 anos na frente,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E ver sua capa gasta, suas páginas amareladas.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Sinal de que foi muito escrito pela gente,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E nossas histórias estarão ali gravadas.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Quanto mais leio o livro,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Mais numerosa ficam suas páginas.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
É um caminho sem fim,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
É uma vida que foge do meu eu,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E corre para o teu, para ser de fato o nosso.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Não sabemos do amanhã,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Mas sabemos que amanhecerá.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E o sol vai estar no céu novamente,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Esperando no mesmo momento aquecer duas almas,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Que vivem na sintonia esperando águas mais calmas.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E talvez a lua esteja ao seu lado,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Brilhando com um raio emprestado.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Ilumina até o andarilho da rua que me pede um trocado.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Os seres, ah eles nos ouvem.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Eles trazem de volta o que achávamos ter perdido.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
A viver na estrada sem ter se arrependido.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E com os erros, uma vida melhor com o que teria aprendido.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
A ponte montada depois do céu, nos leva ao fim do arco Iris.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E trás junto a total falta de rima.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Talvez queira voar, como o pássaro para cima.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Talvez queira ficar perto de você, como dois polos
diferentes de um imã.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Marca páginas e marca passos, para lembrar e segurar o
coração,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Coisas simples assim que acontece com a nossa emoção.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Quando a vida de dias tão bons, do amanhã já nos deixa uma
noção.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Há dias em que escrevemos ocultando nossa proposta,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Mas hoje em pequenos versos e palavras curtas, deixa singela
a minha resposta.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
08/05/2012 22h29min&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eHejl-wcycU/T6nJL0D9lVI/AAAAAAAAD4A/YMiSs2mXWw4/s1600/sem_resposta%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eHejl-wcycU/T6nJL0D9lVI/AAAAAAAAD4A/YMiSs2mXWw4/s320/sem_resposta%5B1%5D.jpg" width="319" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/1933898002973611659-3584570938120173940?l=acoordesparavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VGk-Dg0C48eughIQx-4_IvpJspc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/VGk-Dg0C48eughIQx-4_IvpJspc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~4/Nr8fHuqnmag" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/feeds/3584570938120173940/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/05/resposta.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/3584570938120173940?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/3584570938120173940?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~3/Nr8fHuqnmag/resposta.html" title="Resposta" /><author><name>Patrick Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03746131814628261605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="15" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ltf_EdtuZok/TV3iyDA7M5I/AAAAAAAADLU/chLLn67PfIM/s220/tikcs.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eHejl-wcycU/T6nJL0D9lVI/AAAAAAAAD4A/YMiSs2mXWw4/s72-c/sem_resposta%5B1%5D.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/05/resposta.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUCSX84eCp7ImA9WhVVFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1933898002973611659.post-5785955341774308307</id><published>2012-05-08T09:31:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2012-05-08T09:31:08.130-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-08T09:31:08.130-03:00</app:edited><title>Matinal</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Ouço pássaros cantando na cidade,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Ha quanto tempo não os ouvia na verdade.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
A verdade é que a vida tantas vezes nos deixa surdos,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Sempre correndo, vivendo nada em função de tudo.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Mas vendo sol e lua no mesmo céu caminhando,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Feliz ficaria se meus pensamentos do outro lado estivessem
chegando.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E eu pudesse ficar falando,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Horas e horas de um tempo que aos poucos está começando.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Ouço também os barulhos da cidade,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Quem me dera fugir para a tranquilidade.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Envolver-me em braços e abraços sinceros,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E saciar calmamente a nossa saudade.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Não há idade para viver a vida,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Não há vida que viva sem sentimentos de verdade.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Seria insanidade correr o mundo para uma viagem só de ida?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Ou seria essa a melhor escolha: ir ao encontro da minha
metade?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
08/05/2012 09h23min&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KdSOS1raKE0/T6kR-q11qUI/AAAAAAAAD30/N05cQ5mQHpo/s1600/manha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="273" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KdSOS1raKE0/T6kR-q11qUI/AAAAAAAAD30/N05cQ5mQHpo/s320/manha.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/1933898002973611659-5785955341774308307?l=acoordesparavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/p--zH9iHNGiWiqarujGBuRd3BTc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/p--zH9iHNGiWiqarujGBuRd3BTc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~4/FQIbBcqeC-g" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/feeds/5785955341774308307/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/05/matinal.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/5785955341774308307?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/5785955341774308307?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~3/FQIbBcqeC-g/matinal.html" title="Matinal" /><author><name>Patrick Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03746131814628261605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="15" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ltf_EdtuZok/TV3iyDA7M5I/AAAAAAAADLU/chLLn67PfIM/s220/tikcs.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KdSOS1raKE0/T6kR-q11qUI/AAAAAAAAD30/N05cQ5mQHpo/s72-c/manha.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/05/matinal.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0UCRHc8fyp7ImA9WhVVFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1933898002973611659.post-9088334004992181617</id><published>2012-05-08T00:42:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2012-05-08T12:01:05.977-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-08T12:01:05.977-03:00</app:edited><title>Devaneios de Sonhos Reais</title><content type="html">Variações poéticas,&lt;br /&gt;Devaneios de sonhos reais.&lt;br /&gt;Alusões do coração,&lt;br /&gt;Ilusões da minha mente,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pequenas palavras que só nosso coração sente.&lt;br /&gt;As alucinações ainda andam pela memória de um lado para o outro,&lt;br /&gt;Mas passam os dias, passam as noites frias, e o final da frase está sem ponto.&lt;br /&gt;Mas que fique sem ponto final, afinal assim tudo fica normal,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tudo como está cada momento do dia com o seu irônico sinal.&lt;br /&gt;Irônico e feliz sinal.&lt;br /&gt;Ó lua onde estás que não vejo teu brilho de lua cheia?&lt;div&gt;
Ainda ontem te via linda e gigante, iluminando duas almas distantes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Será que ainda não está na hora de vê-la no meu céu brilhando ?&lt;br /&gt;Ou está se escondendo esperando que eu esteja te procurando?&lt;br /&gt;Devaneios de sonhos reais,&lt;br /&gt;Mais rabiscos, outro caderno, que nesse não cabe mais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pode ser isso que me traga a paz,&lt;br /&gt;Pode ser o cuidado que eu preciso para amar mais.&lt;br /&gt;Pode ser um sinal, de que sinais para confirmar não precisem mais,&lt;br /&gt;Que seja uma grande verdade, de um pequeno coração.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que está porem tímido estendendo a sua mão.&lt;br /&gt;Dizendo sim para a alegria e não para a decepção&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Variações poéticas,&lt;br /&gt;Morais ou éticas.&lt;br /&gt;Completando com ilusões.&lt;br /&gt;Realidades inventadas nos dois corações.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E a noite corre,&lt;br /&gt;Desenhar corações através de poemas.&lt;br /&gt;São coisas que a inspiração nos move ,&lt;br /&gt;E a noite corre...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;08/05/2012 00h42min&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1933898002973611659-9088334004992181617?l=acoordesparavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Voo livre,
sem limitações, prisões ou restrições.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Voo
imaginário, escutando aquela música, das palavras que moram fora de um dicionário.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Fazem dos
dois pensamentos um só apenas&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Contamos as coincidências
que já passou de centenas.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Em poucas
linhas nada mostro se não algumas rimas tortas,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Fechar duas
janelas, porem abrir algumas portas.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E ao me
receber, você que lá do céu teve que descer,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Moradora das
nuvens, que visita o chão com intenção de vir me ver.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E consegue
saber qual intenção da visitação, somente para compreender,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Que mesmo
distante, a saudade aumenta, e tudo está catalisado, mas não para de crescer.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Abra a
porta, abra um sorriso e abra o coração,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Feche o
olho, ouça a pergunta e responda sim ou não.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Sim, faça
pra mim, um começo sem fim, algo singelo diante de mim.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Não, não é
compaixão, é uma permissão, para tocar o teu coração.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Para tocar o
velho violão,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Para cantar
e encantar com simples palavras, &lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Que com
pequenas rimas e melodias faladas,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Formam de
presente uma estranha bonita canção.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Vinda de um
estranho e maluco coração,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Palavras
sinceras, grandes esperas.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ma no fim,
tudo vira um grande começo,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Terminar
dias felizes, nunca terá seu preço.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E por dias
como esses, eu tenho meu grande apreço.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
03/05/2012
00h57min&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ue78Zcj4r4k/T6IEE5ya3DI/AAAAAAAAD3o/DUpJSP8pJiM/s1600/por-do-sol-das-nuvens-b170e1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ue78Zcj4r4k/T6IEE5ya3DI/AAAAAAAAD3o/DUpJSP8pJiM/s320/por-do-sol-das-nuvens-b170e1.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&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/1933898002973611659-5308829425043922126?l=acoordesparavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/B0eYzt-Ejm8zAh_yaI4MjtFH3zc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/B0eYzt-Ejm8zAh_yaI4MjtFH3zc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~4/l_uUzxsiwyE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/feeds/5308829425043922126/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/05/moradora-das-nuvens.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/5308829425043922126?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/5308829425043922126?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~3/l_uUzxsiwyE/moradora-das-nuvens.html" title="Moradora das Nuvens" /><author><name>Patrick Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03746131814628261605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="15" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ltf_EdtuZok/TV3iyDA7M5I/AAAAAAAADLU/chLLn67PfIM/s220/tikcs.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ue78Zcj4r4k/T6IEE5ya3DI/AAAAAAAAD3o/DUpJSP8pJiM/s72-c/por-do-sol-das-nuvens-b170e1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/05/moradora-das-nuvens.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04HRHs7fip7ImA9WhVWGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1933898002973611659.post-5751990610885758</id><published>2012-05-02T02:18:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2012-05-02T02:18:55.506-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-02T02:18:55.506-03:00</app:edited><title>Fogueira para nos aquecer</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Faço companhia
às lembranças boas,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Enquanto o
sono não chega, fico aqui à toa.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Penso como o
pensamento muda em tão pouco tempo,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Como os
barcos que baixam suas velas, do rápido ao lento.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Faço
companhia ao grande vazio,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Na noite
escura, tão silenciosa quanto o vento frio.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Embalado por
baladas ou badaladas dos sinos que nunca ninguém viu,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ou não seriam
sinais da embarcação perdida que submergiu?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Mergulhou
nas águas geladas de um mar que não conhecia,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Congelou
sentimentos por razoes que nem mesmo ele sabia,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ateou fogo
na chuva, esperando socorro que de tão longe não viria.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Mas aí vem,
o que poucas pessoas conseguem viver sem,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Histórias
reais com seres imaginários.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ou não seriam
inventários, com uma contagem que só os dois sabem fazer?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ouvir,
falar, agradecer e saber,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Que na
noite, uma pequena fogueira já pode nos aquecer,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Tirando o
frio, cortando o fio, de uma ligação que não mais usaria.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Levando de
volta, fazendo a escolta,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Da embarcação
que não mais naufragaria.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E navegaria,
na companhia de um rosto feliz ,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Que olhava
tudo e simplesmente sorria.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E que no
fundo fazia, histórias curtas virarem fantasias.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Velejava no
mundo em tudo fica perfeito,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Um pequeno
gesto tem seu grande efeito.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E ninguém lá
é julgado pelo seu maior ou pequeno defeito.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Aah esse
mundo de fantasia onde navega essa utopia,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Que um dia
ainda será uma nostalgia.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Do irreal ao
real, era assim, igual ao que se conhecia.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Faço
companhia às lembranças&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Façamos do
diferente, nossas semelhanças.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Separados
porem por grandes distancias,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Mas
dividindo o mesmo céu,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Que em
algumas atrapalhadas palavras,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Cabem em
rabiscos nesse pequeno papel.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
02/05/2012
02h08min&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4DH-MbyzoE/T6DDsLesSSI/AAAAAAAAD3c/ijzCVWlTQbg/s1600/500x500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4DH-MbyzoE/T6DDsLesSSI/AAAAAAAAD3c/ijzCVWlTQbg/s320/500x500.jpg" width="284" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&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/1933898002973611659-5751990610885758?l=acoordesparavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LNX1DKk9jkvW1dUfq434yTkoodI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LNX1DKk9jkvW1dUfq434yTkoodI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~4/oZePZWP_CbQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/feeds/5751990610885758/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/05/fogueira-para-nos-aquecer.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/5751990610885758?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/5751990610885758?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~3/oZePZWP_CbQ/fogueira-para-nos-aquecer.html" title="Fogueira para nos aquecer" /><author><name>Patrick Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03746131814628261605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="15" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ltf_EdtuZok/TV3iyDA7M5I/AAAAAAAADLU/chLLn67PfIM/s220/tikcs.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q4DH-MbyzoE/T6DDsLesSSI/AAAAAAAAD3c/ijzCVWlTQbg/s72-c/500x500.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/05/fogueira-para-nos-aquecer.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEABQn8zcCp7ImA9WhVWGEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1933898002973611659.post-5860250670555343705</id><published>2012-05-01T04:19:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2012-05-01T04:19:13.188-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-05-01T04:19:13.188-03:00</app:edited><title>Mãos frias e palavras quentes.</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Talvez tenha
vindo aqui ao final de mais um dia,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
A noite fria
e a distancia fazia,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Mais um final
igual ao começo de um dia que nada havia.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Talvez tenha
pensado onde está a pequena presença,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Talvez tenha
imaginado o quanto isso faz diferença,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Em palavras,
versos ou simples frases, vindas de uma mesma essência.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Palavras mal
acentuadas, versos e linhas mal rimadas,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Mas só isso
já te basta apenas ler,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Para
completar o teu dia, com algo vindo do meu ser.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;Engraçado o
caminho do destino,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Tão singelo
como o som de um pequeno sino.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
O que ainda não
foi vivido,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Talvez nem
fosse sonhado.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Se não
tivesse aceitado o pedido,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E um dia nessa
estrada ter acreditado.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
É engraçado,
mas é sério, mas é sério e engraçado.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ter você um
dia do meu lado,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ter
naturalmente teu coração conquistado.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ouvir sua
voz, sem mesmo de longe ter chamado.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Começado um
verso feliz, mesmo que o dia de hoje já tenha terminado.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Mas há amanhã,
e a manhã será fria como agora,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Será sim,
mas nesse dia não nos importa a hora.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Esperarei
por mais tempo naquele mundo&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Pra ver o
teu suspiro, do sentimento mais profundo.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E acordar
feliz por faltar menos um dia,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Para chegar
o dia de juntos caminharem pela rua da alegria.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
01/05/2012 04h17min&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1933898002973611659-5860250670555343705?l=acoordesparavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/elnjAWqMriuYfcsxfq-gPr3F9n0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/elnjAWqMriuYfcsxfq-gPr3F9n0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/elnjAWqMriuYfcsxfq-gPr3F9n0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/elnjAWqMriuYfcsxfq-gPr3F9n0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~4/QLNJo2uO96Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/feeds/5860250670555343705/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/05/maos-frias-e-palavras-quentes.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/5860250670555343705?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/5860250670555343705?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~3/QLNJo2uO96Y/maos-frias-e-palavras-quentes.html" title="Mãos frias e palavras quentes." /><author><name>Patrick Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03746131814628261605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="15" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ltf_EdtuZok/TV3iyDA7M5I/AAAAAAAADLU/chLLn67PfIM/s220/tikcs.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/05/maos-frias-e-palavras-quentes.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUAQHY-cCp7ImA9WhVWF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1933898002973611659.post-3680866598373189809</id><published>2012-04-29T12:44:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2012-04-29T12:44:01.858-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-29T12:44:01.858-03:00</app:edited><title>Pensamentos de uma noite fria.</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Não pensei que lembrar o pensamento,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Lembraria a historia com alegria,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Mas com um fundo de uma pequena nostalgia.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
A harmonia continua intocável,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Criaturas trabalham por um universo estável,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E a vida nos remete a uma memória amável.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Não pensei que lembrar o pensamento,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Lembraria de um sinal que eu mesmo não via,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Pensamentos belos, olhares sinceros,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Enquanto por fora eu apenas sorria.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Sorria como alguém que espera uma troca,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Toca a alma de alguém, como quem toca,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Uma musica que a cada dia mais acordes se coloca.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&amp;nbsp;O sono catalisa o
pensamento,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Na janela já escura, escuto apenas o vento.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Em meio à garoa e o frio,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Que nos trás o novelo de ouro e o fio,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Mostra o caminho da saída,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Para alguns que estão encontrando,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Um novo sentido para a vida.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
01h22min 29/04/12&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1933898002973611659-3680866598373189809?l=acoordesparavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZamkXKBnE2Ow2X3bYvKsjcKs1ow/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZamkXKBnE2Ow2X3bYvKsjcKs1ow/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~4/zq6AJ7fkpXw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/feeds/3680866598373189809/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/04/pensamentos-de-uma-noite-fria.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/3680866598373189809?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/3680866598373189809?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~3/zq6AJ7fkpXw/pensamentos-de-uma-noite-fria.html" title="Pensamentos de uma noite fria." /><author><name>Patrick Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03746131814628261605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="15" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ltf_EdtuZok/TV3iyDA7M5I/AAAAAAAADLU/chLLn67PfIM/s220/tikcs.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/04/pensamentos-de-uma-noite-fria.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMHRXg5fyp7ImA9WhVWFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1933898002973611659.post-2171917993822813093</id><published>2012-04-28T01:29:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2012-04-28T01:30:34.627-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-28T01:30:34.627-03:00</app:edited><title>Verbos Rabiscados</title><content type="html">Hoje eles dividiram o mesmo céu e o mesmo sorriso,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Viveram a mesma ideia, e é só isso que eu preciso.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
No céu nublado em meio às nuvens, um espaço reservado,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Lua e sol brilhavam vivos e felizes lado a lado.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Inesperado encontro,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Inspirado conto.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Que conta nossas historias como se não fossem nossas,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Que escreve no ar pelo céu escuro, andando pelas ruas
perigosas.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Perigo de ainda mais gostar,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Perigo de nunca mais largar.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Cadernos para rabiscar,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Contos de dias felizes de um futuro,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Em que juntos vamos caminhar.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
18h35min 27/04/2012&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0JElG6QamL8/T5tx6a9fMUI/AAAAAAAAD3Q/ITCNkbNE-kY/s1600/caderno.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="256" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0JElG6QamL8/T5tx6a9fMUI/AAAAAAAAD3Q/ITCNkbNE-kY/s320/caderno.gif" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/1933898002973611659-2171917993822813093?l=acoordesparavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/namqL-4TbtNC15FJMjuwHOiBNfE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/namqL-4TbtNC15FJMjuwHOiBNfE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~4/w9_yf6-P6zI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/feeds/2171917993822813093/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/04/verbos-rabiscados.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/2171917993822813093?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/2171917993822813093?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~3/w9_yf6-P6zI/verbos-rabiscados.html" title="Verbos Rabiscados" /><author><name>Patrick Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03746131814628261605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="15" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ltf_EdtuZok/TV3iyDA7M5I/AAAAAAAADLU/chLLn67PfIM/s220/tikcs.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0JElG6QamL8/T5tx6a9fMUI/AAAAAAAAD3Q/ITCNkbNE-kY/s72-c/caderno.gif" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/04/verbos-rabiscados.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMBRnc6cSp7ImA9WhVWFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1933898002973611659.post-1310153543282739788</id><published>2012-04-26T23:24:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2012-04-26T23:24:17.919-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-26T23:24:17.919-03:00</app:edited><title>15 minutos</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
15 minutos, parada matinal,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Lembramos-nos de coisas boas, algo natural.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Sorrisos, poemas e versos, algo assim fora do normal.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Ha muito de bonito em palavras que nos trás emoção,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Que transborda na sua simplicidade cria uma canção.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Talvez crie laços, luz da lua iluminando alguns passos,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Enquanto meus passos ainda não estão com os teus.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Enquanto sol e a lua não tem o mesmo céu para dividirem,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
De longe, porém, guia os caminhantes ao partirem.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Brilha tanto, que a noite, o sol se disfarça de lua,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Para continuar iluminando a nossa rua.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Para manter junto o pensamento da minha vida e sua.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
15 minutos, palavras que nos deixam unidos.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Antes e depois, como os bemóis e sustenidos.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Como poema e musica que nascem sem serem percebidos&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Com palavras quentes que antecedem o inverno&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E poemas felizes que trasbordam um pequeno caderno.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
26/04/2012 12h10min&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1933898002973611659-1310153543282739788?l=acoordesparavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HQMr4kGQ-TKUv7tBT1_qmbCHdno/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HQMr4kGQ-TKUv7tBT1_qmbCHdno/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~4/tLpwJ3AHEa4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/feeds/1310153543282739788/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/04/15-minutos.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/1310153543282739788?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/1310153543282739788?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~3/tLpwJ3AHEa4/15-minutos.html" title="15 minutos" /><author><name>Patrick Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03746131814628261605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="15" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ltf_EdtuZok/TV3iyDA7M5I/AAAAAAAADLU/chLLn67PfIM/s220/tikcs.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/04/15-minutos.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0YCQX88eip7ImA9WhVWFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1933898002973611659.post-1762520003297504073</id><published>2012-04-26T00:30:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2012-04-26T00:32:40.172-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-26T00:32:40.172-03:00</app:edited><title>Amanhã será</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Pelo vidro molhado vejo a chuva,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Que cai lentamente, talvez sem vontade.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Água no rosto mascara uma lágrima de saudade.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E aqueles dias que ainda vão passar,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Vai demorar talvez uma eternidade,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Com a calma do tempo eu vou esperar,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
O sorriso de novo, de uma felicidade.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Fracas luzes nos postes da rua,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Um céu nublado no lugar de uma lua.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E uma curiosidade de dentro do meu eu,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&amp;nbsp;Saber sobre como está
à vida sua.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Mistura de elementos,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Caminhar contra o vento.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E sentir o dia cheio pesando nas costas,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Sente também, a vontade de lembrar as conversas nossas.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Um dia igual a esse talvez amanhã será,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Mas amanhecerá sem nuvens num céu azul.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Não importando o lugar, se é norte ou sul,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Unindo as nossas mentes,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Sendo ao menos uma vez inconsequentes,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Escrevendo historias, e gravando o singelo amor em nossas
mentes.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
...Mas novamente amanhã será, e amanhecerá azul, céu azul,
no norte ou no sul.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
22h54min 25/04/02012&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lCFoXSJkxSg/T5jBXRGvefI/AAAAAAAAD3E/KQ2pg_By4pU/s1600/coracao-janela-chuva.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lCFoXSJkxSg/T5jBXRGvefI/AAAAAAAAD3E/KQ2pg_By4pU/s320/coracao-janela-chuva.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/1933898002973611659-1762520003297504073?l=acoordesparavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yQpcaHDMnvoNvP28qvr4uEvhlQE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yQpcaHDMnvoNvP28qvr4uEvhlQE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~4/CmVmGTYfIEo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/feeds/1762520003297504073/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/04/amanha-sera.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/1762520003297504073?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/1762520003297504073?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~3/CmVmGTYfIEo/amanha-sera.html" title="Amanhã será" /><author><name>Patrick Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03746131814628261605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="15" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ltf_EdtuZok/TV3iyDA7M5I/AAAAAAAADLU/chLLn67PfIM/s220/tikcs.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lCFoXSJkxSg/T5jBXRGvefI/AAAAAAAAD3E/KQ2pg_By4pU/s72-c/coracao-janela-chuva.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/04/amanha-sera.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0YMSHs6cCp7ImA9WhVWEkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1933898002973611659.post-3368182785257369525</id><published>2012-04-24T01:19:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2012-04-24T01:19:49.518-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-24T01:19:49.518-03:00</app:edited><title>Ó lua onde estas?</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ó lua onde
estas?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Que não veio
iluminar meu céu esta noite...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ó dia que
foi capaz,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
De trazer
pensamentos bons, músicas e seus sons.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
O tempo que
passou e me trás,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Palavras
vindas da alma, e o sorriso que o animo acalma.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ou uma
pequena grande saudade, algo além da idade ou vaidade,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Algo além do
que possamos tocar, segurar e mudar.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ó lua, onde
estas teu brilho,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Que ilumina
o caminho de um viajando sozinho?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Mesmo não
sendo realmente tua essa luz,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ela é um
norte certo do caminho que minha vida agora conduz&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Guitarras ao
fundo, música calma e o nosso mundo,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
O nosso
mundo ninguém conhece.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Para chegar
lá, antes de dormir faça uma prece,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Sorria e
feche os olhos, que o nosso mundo aparece.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Parece conto
de fadas, desaparece o real, e une duas estradas,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Caminhando suavemente,
palavras confirmadas.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Por um olhar
que me desmente, por uma vida que temos em frente,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Por um dia
que as duas mãos se unirão, firmando um futuro presente.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ó lua não
sei onde estás,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Não consigo
correr atrás.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Deve estar com
sua luz em outro lugar,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E eu aqui
espero aquele dia chegar.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Tenho calma,
o tempo é relativo, isso não vai atrapalhar,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Mas torço
com força, para que tua luz brilhe minha estrada para me guiar.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E no dia em
que a luz do céu faltar,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
A luz da
alma deixa tudo claro, basta na estrela certa pensar.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
24/04/2012&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; 01h12min&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1933898002973611659-3368182785257369525?l=acoordesparavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Não quero
mais hoje, entender o magnetismo,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Só queria
compreender por que algumas coisas atraem e repelem no momento certo em nossa
vida.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Não quero
mais hoje, entender a eletricidade,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Só queria
compreender, como do nada uma luz pode acender dentro de nós.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Eu não quero
mais hoje, entender o que é uma estrela,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Só queria
compreender, como elas inspiram e brilham dentro de alguns olhares.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Não quero
entender o relativismo do tempo,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Só queria
compreender porque alguns minutos parecem dias, e noites correm como segundos.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Não quero
entender tudo sobre esse ou mais mundos,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Sobre os
rios, lagos e oceanos mais fundos.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ou sobre
nada do que é, do que querem que seja, ou do que realmente pode vir a ser.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Entender ou
compreender, tanto faz se ao fechar os olhos não conseguimos nos esquecer.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Eu queria
entender a distancia, mas sei que não há como vencê-la,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Sei que
precisamos de uma bela estrada para recebê-la.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Sair e
chegar, partir ou ficar,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Acreditar no
palpite e se entregar&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
À certeza
das nossas duvidas, que a nossa razão e a ciência jamais vai nos contar.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AEIULcC6X2c/T5TC7gq9FrI/AAAAAAAAD28/sRyRDAdbb_8/s1600/por-do-sol_1453_1024x7682.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AEIULcC6X2c/T5TC7gq9FrI/AAAAAAAAD28/sRyRDAdbb_8/s320/por-do-sol_1453_1024x7682.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&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/1933898002973611659-9211095444604496565?l=acoordesparavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Talvez eu
sorria mais no mundo próprio em que eu mesmo criei.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Lá o tempo
já passou,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
As
formalidades já não tem seu valor,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
A colheita
dos frutos aos pouco já começou.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
O tempo
passa mais devagar,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E o mal
tempo está num estrada longe, difícil de enxergar.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
O sorriso
ainda continua o mesmo,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E eu paro no
caminho para te mostrar a estrela cadente chegar.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
A visita, a
prova, a boa nova, e a boa canção.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Silêncios,
olhares, mares, bares, e ter ganhado teu coração.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Tudo isso
com pensamentos ociosos&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Dias ansiosos,
vidas normais.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Tudo isso
ligado e firme como uma corrente&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Coisas que
aos poucos a gente sente&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Idealizados
no pensamento que não mente&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Baseados no
sentimento e certeza dados no presente&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Há futuro,
que agora vira presente,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Há uma
linguagem que não me mente.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 208.5pt;"&gt;
Há vários olhares sobre um mesmo ponto,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Há um pouco
de utopia e nostalgia em cada conto.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Talvez eu
sorria mais no mundo próprio em que eu mesmo criei&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Mas a vida
está aqui, mas a historia será escrita aqui eu sei.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Compro
livros em branco para escrever tudo o que já pensei&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Penso no que
pode vir, e aos poucos de fato sorrio também.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
22/04/2012&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
03h12min&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1933898002973611659-5063204448920294724?l=acoordesparavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NxoAGFYTzDhmUHh5XecHjB8Avxg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NxoAGFYTzDhmUHh5XecHjB8Avxg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NxoAGFYTzDhmUHh5XecHjB8Avxg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NxoAGFYTzDhmUHh5XecHjB8Avxg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~4/IKasl2RNoAc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/feeds/5063204448920294724/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/04/paralelos.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/5063204448920294724?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/5063204448920294724?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~3/IKasl2RNoAc/paralelos.html" title="Paralelos" /><author><name>Patrick Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03746131814628261605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="15" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ltf_EdtuZok/TV3iyDA7M5I/AAAAAAAADLU/chLLn67PfIM/s220/tikcs.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/04/paralelos.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUBRXY9eip7ImA9WhVXGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1933898002973611659.post-4221154206258140552</id><published>2012-04-20T09:28:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2012-04-20T10:57:34.862-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-20T10:57:34.862-03:00</app:edited><title>Ciclos</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;span style="text-align: center;"&gt;Onde o infinito tem seu começo?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Onde estão as coisas que não tem preço?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Até onde vão os ciclos ociosos e orbitais,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Saltitantes, numa dança sem fim cada vez mais?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Onde a hora do relógio tem seu fim?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Lá aonde nossos dias chegam e terminam pra mim,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Lá onde sintonias vibram para fora do seu caminho,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Para fora, longe, porem pertinho.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
O céu pode estar escondido atrás das nuvens,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Mas não esqueceria que mesmo assim ele está lá.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Relativo o tempo, toda distância e as luzes,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Perto ou longe, ao menos duas almas vão se encontrar.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
É um começo, mas é um fim, mas é um começo,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Mas é um novo começo... Do livro que não tem fim.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Da escrita feita por mim,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Das coisas da vida, simples assim.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Nesse mundo ou em outros,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Com exclamações, vírgulas ou pontos.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Escrevendo contos e até cantos,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Um dia bom depois do outro, como poucos...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Mas é um fim, mas é um começo,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Mas é um novo começo...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
20/04/2012 09h18min&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qaipq4EQQ4M/T5FWdz4e9jI/AAAAAAAAD2w/QUwBwUs3Ra4/s1600/leminiscata_infinito+(19).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="238" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qaipq4EQQ4M/T5FWdz4e9jI/AAAAAAAAD2w/QUwBwUs3Ra4/s320/leminiscata_infinito+(19).JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1933898002973611659-4221154206258140552?l=acoordesparavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZuSchSdrSVlEkw2wrvULHX84Wl8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZuSchSdrSVlEkw2wrvULHX84Wl8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~4/KDi6jf4AIzE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/feeds/4221154206258140552/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/04/ciclos.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/4221154206258140552?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/4221154206258140552?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~3/KDi6jf4AIzE/ciclos.html" title="Ciclos" /><author><name>Patrick Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03746131814628261605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="15" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ltf_EdtuZok/TV3iyDA7M5I/AAAAAAAADLU/chLLn67PfIM/s220/tikcs.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qaipq4EQQ4M/T5FWdz4e9jI/AAAAAAAAD2w/QUwBwUs3Ra4/s72-c/leminiscata_infinito+(19).JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/04/ciclos.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMERHc8eSp7ImA9WhVXEk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1933898002973611659.post-4500272609304238241</id><published>2012-04-12T00:59:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2012-04-12T01:03:25.971-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-12T01:03:25.971-03:00</app:edited><title>Há...</title><content type="html">Há muitas
luzes,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Faróis e
lâmpadas, lua cheia e o teu olhar.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E somos
somente mais um,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Cada um na
sua direção,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Caminhando
ou correndo, razão ou emoção...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Há muitos
destinos,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Escritos ou
com as linhas em branco.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Buscando o
mínimo para a felicidade,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Será que
todos vão alcança-la de verdade?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Há muito de
muito pouco em muitas pessoas,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E ha pouco
de muito em muitas delas.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Mas há...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Há frases
como aquelas que encontramos escrito,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Paliativas,
modernas, mas é só um texto bonito.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Porém, há
coisas vindas do coração,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Verdades
ditas pela emoção... Há alguém melhor,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Há alguma
coisa que ainda nos chama atenção.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Há dias, em
que só desistir e dormir são nossa meta,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
E que só uma
palavra ou uma coincidência já nos completa.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Porém há
dias, em que dormimos sorrindo,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Pinturas
colorindo, laços firmes vai se construindo.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Há manhãs,
que há beleza até mesmo nas folhas caídas de outono,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Dias
cinzentos, trazem nostalgias e um desejo de retorno.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Voltar ao
que nos faz bem, na medida em que nos lembramos de alguém,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Que olhando
para o mesmo céu, vê luzes, luas, e um sorriso sincero vê também.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Aah há muito
de muito pouco em muitas pessoas,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Mas há um
pouco de muita coisa nessas poucas palavras,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Que dentro
delas, há muito...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
00h48min 12/04/12.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HpKRjxqvCOA/T4ZTLO0658I/AAAAAAAAD2k/DdkknIddkog/s1600/outono.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HpKRjxqvCOA/T4ZTLO0658I/AAAAAAAAD2k/DdkknIddkog/s320/outono.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&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/1933898002973611659-4500272609304238241?l=acoordesparavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2TQlpOmlOte5yP2uyapvN74zgrg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2TQlpOmlOte5yP2uyapvN74zgrg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~4/rXxS7RUGHMw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/feeds/4500272609304238241/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/04/ha.html#comment-form" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/4500272609304238241?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/4500272609304238241?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~3/rXxS7RUGHMw/ha.html" title="Há..." /><author><name>Patrick Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03746131814628261605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="15" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ltf_EdtuZok/TV3iyDA7M5I/AAAAAAAADLU/chLLn67PfIM/s220/tikcs.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HpKRjxqvCOA/T4ZTLO0658I/AAAAAAAAD2k/DdkknIddkog/s72-c/outono.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/04/ha.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0IDRH46eSp7ImA9WhVQFU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1933898002973611659.post-4016534404033767226</id><published>2012-04-03T22:06:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2012-04-03T22:06:15.011-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-03T22:06:15.011-03:00</app:edited><title>Rock e óculos escuros.</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Depois de
ontem,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Há dois
caminhos nesse leque de opções.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Aceitar a
carona e certas incertezas,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ou seguir
sozinha, pela mesma linha,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
um caminho
sem a mesma beleza.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Um futuro, amor,
estrada, rock e óculos escuros,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Companhia,
teimosia, e um pensamento mais maduro.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ah vida, com
suas milhares de coincidências,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
seus
milhares de acasos em comum.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Torne dois,
somente um,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Transforme
nossas utopias em alegria em nossos dias.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Depois de
ontem.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Nesse leque
de opções,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ficaria imaginando
situações,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
se já não
conhecesse tuas limitações.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Padrões,
afeições, rimas e arranhões.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Há algo por
dentro ainda esperando conserto&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Delicado
momento em que se toca a ferida do peito&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Mas teu
violão toca algo que acalma&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Toca
melodias vindas da alma,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Faz de linha
torta, um traço perfeito.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
22:02 03/04/12&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&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/1933898002973611659-4016534404033767226?l=acoordesparavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EaUtIYA-GxFZhy7c6rV-g6ALEMk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EaUtIYA-GxFZhy7c6rV-g6ALEMk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~4/ujFJkwitKns" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/feeds/4016534404033767226/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/04/rock-e-oculos-escuros.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/4016534404033767226?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/4016534404033767226?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~3/ujFJkwitKns/rock-e-oculos-escuros.html" title="Rock e óculos escuros." /><author><name>Patrick Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03746131814628261605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="15" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ltf_EdtuZok/TV3iyDA7M5I/AAAAAAAADLU/chLLn67PfIM/s220/tikcs.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/04/rock-e-oculos-escuros.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEEAQng9eSp7ImA9WhVQFE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1933898002973611659.post-8558478669442587973</id><published>2012-04-03T01:17:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2012-04-03T01:17:23.661-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-04-03T01:17:23.661-03:00</app:edited><title>Espelhos na penumbra.</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;Em meio à penumbra, eu olho para o espelho, não consigo ver meu reflexo, não consigo ver quem está na frente do meu rosto e atrás dos meus medos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O escuro... Um refúgio para quem busca se ocultar, se esconder, se fechar no seu medo e na sua fraqueza. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu olho para o espelho, talvez consiga enxergar meus olhos, cheios de receio de algo que está por vir, cheio de receio de um inverno fora de época, que pode congelar almas, histórias e sentimentos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olhar para o espelho me faz ver uns últimos feixes de luz que ainda restam na câmara escura, ver a luz no fim do túnel, ver o novelo de ouro apontando a saída. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ainda há tempo para correr desse lugar? Ainda há felicidade no seu lar? Ainda há um refugio, um interruptor de luz, onde posso invadir o quarto escuro com suas ondas e partículas radiantes, iluminando, reacendendo, renovando os ânimos, fazendo as pazes, mostrando a harmonia luminosa que nossas vidas podem encontrar no caminho, deixando tudo de ruim para traz, toda a escuridão, e todas as noites frias de um inverno, não havendo tempo a perder, apague a vela da treva e acenda a luz interior da tua essência. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31/agosto/2011&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xXH-C4lqZzk/T3p5y4hKj5I/AAAAAAAAD2c/J8mxmPwtbT4/s1600/no-escuro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xXH-C4lqZzk/T3p5y4hKj5I/AAAAAAAAD2c/J8mxmPwtbT4/s320/no-escuro.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/1933898002973611659-8558478669442587973?l=acoordesparavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Ao silenciar a noite,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
escorreu pelos olhos&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
dor transbordada da alma.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Os gritos de uma súplica,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
os segredos do silêncio...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Não entende o que está errado no que está certo,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
não entende como tudo começou.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
E a noite vai terminando mais cedo que o normal,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
a agenda continua, não podemos estar mal.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Mas por dentro cada um conhece a si,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
que por fora, na verdade não é o que sentimos aqui.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
Não parecer,&amp;nbsp;não&amp;nbsp;significa&amp;nbsp;não&amp;nbsp;existir,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
onde estão os planos que nos fariam sorrir?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
11/03/12 01h23min&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TvykoQLXcGk/T3p0qjaGY7I/AAAAAAAAD2U/Ebj72K7kohs/s1600/MSCARA~1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TvykoQLXcGk/T3p0qjaGY7I/AAAAAAAAD2U/Ebj72K7kohs/s320/MSCARA~1.JPG" width="306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;
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Estive com meu pensamento nela até adormecer.&lt;br /&gt;
Tentei imaginar quais seriam minhas próximas palavras ao vê-la,&lt;br /&gt;
Imaginei coisas que não vou conseguir dizer.&lt;br /&gt;
Como tentar falar alguma coisa, se somente o pensamento já me tira do chão?&lt;br /&gt;
Imerso em um mar de sonhos e inspirações,&lt;br /&gt;
As &amp;nbsp;palavras silenciam, abrindo espaço para os gritos de um simples olhar.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ler o que está escrito em gestos pequenos,&lt;br /&gt;
Estender a mão e ver sorrisos brilhando como a luz de&amp;nbsp;vénus&amp;nbsp;no céu.&lt;br /&gt;
Tantas voltas ao mundo dentro da minha imaginação,&lt;br /&gt;
Início de algo ainda fora da razão.&lt;br /&gt;
Como os ciclos lógicos e harmônicos do micro e macrocosmo.&lt;br /&gt;
Instantes de alusões, ocultas inspirações,&lt;br /&gt;
Acordar, de fato pensar, serão caminhos de sorrisos ou frustrações?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
28/03/2012&lt;br /&gt;
12:03
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1933898002973611659-2736388303033529137?l=acoordesparavida.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cIjACI98RdTHiFFrlzKfZr-NNMg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cIjACI98RdTHiFFrlzKfZr-NNMg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~4/xsJ_fRo_840" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/feeds/2736388303033529137/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/03/chances-variaveis-e-silencios-ocultos.html#comment-form" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/2736388303033529137?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1933898002973611659/posts/default/2736388303033529137?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AcordesParaAVida/~3/xsJ_fRo_840/chances-variaveis-e-silencios-ocultos.html" title="Chances variáveis e silêncios ocultos" /><author><name>Patrick Alves</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03746131814628261605</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="15" height="32" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ltf_EdtuZok/TV3iyDA7M5I/AAAAAAAADLU/chLLn67PfIM/s220/tikcs.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bMWtIWXWeV0/T3SOdApeaCI/AAAAAAAAD2M/u-F7C3rl96Y/s72-c/feminino_luar.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://acoordesparavida.blogspot.com/2012/03/chances-variaveis-e-silencios-ocultos.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkANRXsyfyp7ImA9WhVQEE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1933898002973611659.post-4327192402775914281</id><published>2012-03-28T10:31:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2012-03-29T13:33:14.597-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-03-29T13:33:14.597-03:00</app:edited><title>Onde está?</title><content type="html">Limitado a
uma imagem&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ilimitado no
pensamento&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Repensando o
sentimento&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Embalado por
boleros e bossas&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Em todas as
vontades nossas&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Todas as
vezes em que nos vemos&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Pensando o
que em comum nós dois temos?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Quando eu
penso onde está aquele futuro&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Quando
imagino o que fazer no dia que ele chegar&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Correr,
ficar, fugir ou enfrentar.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Matar e
morrer ou dançar e te beijar&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ah dúvidas,
onde estão tuas respostas?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Onde está
teu sinal?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;span style="text-align: center;"&gt;Onde está,
nessa manhã fria, saber é meu desejo principal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Acordada,
dormindo, sorrindo ou chorando&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Inspirada
nesse mundo ou no mundo dos sonhos viajando&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ah os meus
contos sem pontos&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Catalisando
memórias, relembrando os encontros.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ah minhas
vontades e desejos&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Revelando
segredos de uma criação secreta e ociosa&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Onde está?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Onde está o
calor que aquece o dia?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Onde está a
presença que me trás alegria?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Onde está a
certeza e segurança e mais ainda&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Onde está a
nossa esperança?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Talvez
também esteja perdida por aí&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Fazendo as
mesmas perguntas, não sabendo para onde ir.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Inspirada
com histórias de filmes que ainda vão surgir&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Planejando cânticos
em sussurros e dedilhados que ninguém mais vai conseguir&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Ou fazendo
preces em voz baixa, que só meus ouvidos poderão ouvir.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
Nessa manhã,
onde está?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
28/03/2012&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
10h23min&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;
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