<?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;C0ABRXo9fCp7ImA9WhRUGEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890</id><updated>2012-01-29T18:49:14.464-08:00</updated><category term="unileiros" /><category term="poem" /><category term="Golias" /><category term="Conto" /><category term="cry" /><category term="Pensando Bem" /><category term="Brasil" /><category term="autor" /><category term="blogspot" /><category term="melancolia" /><category term="Los Hermanos" /><category term="Poesia" /><category term="poema" /><category term="10 coisas que eu odeio em você" /><category term="unila" /><category term="clichê" /><category term="eu" /><category term="xx" /><category term="não se vá" /><category term="merchan" /><category term="Quote" /><category term="Ditadura" /><category term="Stupid Femme" /><category term="Elis Regina" /><category term="-Q" /><category term="No Sense" /><category term="Uma versão de um texto que não queria escrever" /><category term="henrique santana cordeiro" /><category term="Poesias" /><category term="thiago pethit" /><category term="feiura" /><category term="Tarantismo" /><category term="depoimento" /><category term="Tiago Oliveira Custódio" /><category term="sinta vontade" /><category term="deixa" /><category term="piegas" /><category term="prosopopeia" /><category term="random" /><category term="filho da puta" /><category term="Com Musica" /><category term="vcr" /><category term="vai tomar no cu" /><category term="Reflexo" /><category term="the xx" /><category term="elegia" /><category term="Fragmento" /><category term="hollow" /><category term="blog fiction" /><category term="nine inch nails" /><category term="feio" /><category term="SELF" /><category term="guilty" /><category term="novela" /><category term="ñarõ" /><category term="ciudad del este" /><category term="Antony and the Johnsons" /><category term="melancholia" /><category term="canto dos malditos na terra do nunca" /><category term="rotina" /><category term="i fell in love with a dead boy" /><category term="goliath" /><category term="diálogos silenciosos" /><category term="Portunhol" /><category term="sempere e filhos" /><category term="Merchan hehe" /><category term="Vive la Fête" /><category term="Liberdade" /><category term="Amicus" /><title>concertinamuda.</title><subtitle type="html">sem som. sem sopro. e sem corpo.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>217</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/Concertinamuda" /><feedburner:info uri="concertinamuda" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0ABRXo9cSp7ImA9WhRUGEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-8782680517073154926</id><published>2012-01-29T18:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-29T18:49:14.469-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-29T18:49:14.469-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="SELF" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poesia" /><title>Fantasia</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/8782680517073154926/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2012/01/fantasia.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/8782680517073154926?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/8782680517073154926?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/fHOqGqAxKuQ/fantasia.html" title="Fantasia" /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">E às vezes
Eu fico mudo
Me isolo
Me pergunto

E ninguém responde.
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0FbqQI8K22NwCZF47hS0uNl6w4c/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0FbqQI8K22NwCZF47hS0uNl6w4c/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/0FbqQI8K22NwCZF47hS0uNl6w4c/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0FbqQI8K22NwCZF47hS0uNl6w4c/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/fHOqGqAxKuQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2012/01/fantasia.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4MRHc_cCp7ImA9WhRUF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-2946261088166716311</id><published>2012-01-27T21:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-27T21:03:05.948-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-27T21:03:05.948-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Reflexo" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="SELF" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poesias" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="eu" /><title>Menos; bem menos.</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/2946261088166716311/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2012/01/menos-bem-menos.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/2946261088166716311?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/2946261088166716311?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/BUDy-U43_rs/menos-bem-menos.html" title="Menos; bem menos." /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
Besteira
Todos os temas que descrevo
De qualquer jeito, em qualquer maneira
Tudo fugidio
Pura cobiça
Romantismo exagerado
Byronismo camuflado
Fingindo preguiça

E é assim que vai ser.
Todo o verso que descrevo tem no implícito explicito
Um mim,
um eu
e um você.
Sempre em linha separadas
Por pura mentira. Nada de porquês.

Banho de madrugada na mangueira.

Rima forçada.

Tsc,
Que bobeira.


&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/koWovxEcZIf8b7wZiOCh0vZnqaQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/koWovxEcZIf8b7wZiOCh0vZnqaQ/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/koWovxEcZIf8b7wZiOCh0vZnqaQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/koWovxEcZIf8b7wZiOCh0vZnqaQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/BUDy-U43_rs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2012/01/menos-bem-menos.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8ERn89fyp7ImA9WhRVFkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-2269874924681582477</id><published>2012-01-15T19:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T19:00:07.167-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-15T19:00:07.167-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Reflexo" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poesia" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="random" /><title>Presságio</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/2269874924681582477/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2012/01/pressagio.html#comment-form" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/2269874924681582477?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/2269874924681582477?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/1CmpYNuZzvU/pressagio.html" title="Presságio" /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">And the day comesAnd that day comesAnd it comesAnd comesAnd comes...



Just to go away.
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cs2j-uKs-HBFJ-7J4csc9H3kVWg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cs2j-uKs-HBFJ-7J4csc9H3kVWg/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/cs2j-uKs-HBFJ-7J4csc9H3kVWg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cs2j-uKs-HBFJ-7J4csc9H3kVWg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/1CmpYNuZzvU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2012/01/pressagio.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08MQXczeyp7ImA9WhRVEEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-1211957420323415796</id><published>2012-01-08T11:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T11:44:40.983-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-08T11:44:40.983-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="deixa" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="SELF" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="poema" /><title>Declaração de amor (próprio)</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/1211957420323415796/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2012/01/declaracao-de-amor-proprio.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/1211957420323415796?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/1211957420323415796?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/SQ2ZA5XgKkk/declaracao-de-amor-proprio.html" title="Declaração de amor (próprio)" /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">- ...
- Sei.
- ...., ...! ........, .... ...?
- Provavelmente.
- !
- E agora?
- ... .., ...  ...... ... ... ............... .
- Sei
- ?
- Não posso
- !!!
- Desculpa.


....
...

- Ok.
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yC1tooq2c4yW1EbBVpGiIIVdYrQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yC1tooq2c4yW1EbBVpGiIIVdYrQ/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/yC1tooq2c4yW1EbBVpGiIIVdYrQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yC1tooq2c4yW1EbBVpGiIIVdYrQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/SQ2ZA5XgKkk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2012/01/declaracao-de-amor-proprio.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0cNSXg6eCp7ImA9WhRWF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-3532534372872479842</id><published>2012-01-04T13:04:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-04T13:04:58.610-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-04T13:04:58.610-08:00</app:edited><title>Férias</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/3532534372872479842/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2012/01/ferias.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/3532534372872479842?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/3532534372872479842?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/jBc1lhuJGSg/ferias.html" title="Férias" /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">SumaréSuma com o tédioSuma com meu tédioSuma isso na maré.
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sDk0_7VXU2pdyDeRYKIKfg1GkiI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sDk0_7VXU2pdyDeRYKIKfg1GkiI/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/sDk0_7VXU2pdyDeRYKIKfg1GkiI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sDk0_7VXU2pdyDeRYKIKfg1GkiI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/jBc1lhuJGSg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2012/01/ferias.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04MQnsyeSp7ImA9WhRWEUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-3045126946966826478</id><published>2011-12-29T09:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-29T09:33:03.591-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-29T09:33:03.591-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="poema" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="10 coisas que eu odeio em você" /><title>Dez coisas que eu ( ) em você.</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/3045126946966826478/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/12/dez-coisas-que-eu-em-voce.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/3045126946966826478?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/3045126946966826478?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/M_w_Fa6S1ZA/dez-coisas-que-eu-em-voce.html" title="Dez coisas que eu ( ) em você." /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">EU ( ) Seu cabelo bagunçado
Seu sorriso sem graça e calado
Suas pernas estranhas
E sua voz murcha.

Eu ( ) seu jeito despreocupado
Sua cara de filhodaputa maltratado
Seu sarcasmo infantil
E seu desinteresse.

Mas acima de tudo
Eu ( ) tua falta de ( ) próprio
E o fato de que nós [ ] jamais { }.
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/O3gzacuHYhQbnifFNhnqhaz1WyI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/O3gzacuHYhQbnifFNhnqhaz1WyI/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/O3gzacuHYhQbnifFNhnqhaz1WyI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/O3gzacuHYhQbnifFNhnqhaz1WyI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/M_w_Fa6S1ZA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/12/dez-coisas-que-eu-em-voce.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0MGSXc9fSp7ImA9WhRXFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-7054644087100871575</id><published>2011-12-22T19:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-22T19:03:48.965-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-22T19:03:48.965-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="poema" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="poem" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="autor" /><title>Autoria</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/7054644087100871575/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/12/autoria.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/7054644087100871575?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/7054644087100871575?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/vbHML5En7r4/autoria.html" title="Autoria" /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Eu queimei tudo:

O cheiro
O tato
O paladar
E a sensação do teu sexo

Joguei tudo fora:

A foto rasgada
A cama vadia
A sombra no espelho
E a imaginação pelo teu sexo

Eu chorei tudo que havia dentro:

Este sentimento
Esta dor e o lamento
Este buraco no peito
Formado de um vazio infinito

E agora não me resta mais nada:
Amor só é útil quando se quer escrever um livro.
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EGXTvRAJbSeZCguQQmvj__Ypgxc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EGXTvRAJbSeZCguQQmvj__Ypgxc/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/EGXTvRAJbSeZCguQQmvj__Ypgxc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EGXTvRAJbSeZCguQQmvj__Ypgxc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/vbHML5En7r4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/12/autoria.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUEAR3Y5cSp7ImA9WhRXFEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-1492851967522058314</id><published>2011-12-21T06:27:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-21T06:27:26.829-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-21T06:27:26.829-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="poema" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="unileiros" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="unila" /><title>Ditando as Regras</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/1492851967522058314/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/12/ditando-as-regras.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/1492851967522058314?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/1492851967522058314?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/Bz3JXvjI0GM/ditando-as-regras.html" title="Ditando as Regras" /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
- Senta.
- Onde?
- Senta.
- Onde?
- Senta.
- Onde, porra?

- Na casa que te dei, na comida que paguei e no ônibus que te leva. Senta.

Senta ou te tiro tudo e te mato e é isso.
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LxuW97SMQ3yuFbtVxM4O086HVZw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LxuW97SMQ3yuFbtVxM4O086HVZw/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/LxuW97SMQ3yuFbtVxM4O086HVZw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LxuW97SMQ3yuFbtVxM4O086HVZw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/Bz3JXvjI0GM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/12/ditando-as-regras.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkAGQXkzeip7ImA9WhRXEUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-5273715421649665375</id><published>2011-12-17T17:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-17T17:12:00.782-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-17T17:12:00.782-08:00</app:edited><title /><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/5273715421649665375/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/12/essa-coisa-de-poesia-e-uma-grande.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/5273715421649665375?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/5273715421649665375?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/fPKTLEYYBCg/essa-coisa-de-poesia-e-uma-grande.html" title="" /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
Essa coisa de poesia é uma grande filhadaputagem.
Uma instância sádica e satírica.
Filha-da-puta,
Como aquela figura por quem se apaixona e ri da sua cara
Da tua desgraça.

E eu sou algum tipo de masoquista.
Só pode.
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TVerwSaXWfHqtCGzYGexswy0NSU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TVerwSaXWfHqtCGzYGexswy0NSU/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/TVerwSaXWfHqtCGzYGexswy0NSU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TVerwSaXWfHqtCGzYGexswy0NSU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/fPKTLEYYBCg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/12/essa-coisa-de-poesia-e-uma-grande.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcDRHs_eSp7ImA9WhRXEUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-3322414753433740943</id><published>2011-12-17T16:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-17T17:01:15.541-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-17T17:01:15.541-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="the xx" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="poema" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="vcr" /><title>vcrxx</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/3322414753433740943/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/12/vcrxx.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/3322414753433740943?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/3322414753433740943?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/DQNhy-YJc8Q/vcrxx.html" title="vcrxx" /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
No ritmo da música

Tun - dum - tun - dum - tun - dum

E ai o som
Disperça
A louca peça

De norte
De sul
Sem leste
No sudeste

- assiste um video comigo
- ouve uma música comigo
- rola na cama comigo
- deita no peito

Beija o meu delirio.

tun - dum - tun - dum - tun

E você

Você não sabe

Você faz

tun dum tun dum tun dum tun dum

- ASSISTE um video comigo
- FALA de amor comigo
- Me odeia só 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Wce8aGyyUtzn25GFOc-ZDmInHxo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Wce8aGyyUtzn25GFOc-ZDmInHxo/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/Wce8aGyyUtzn25GFOc-ZDmInHxo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Wce8aGyyUtzn25GFOc-ZDmInHxo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/DQNhy-YJc8Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/12/vcrxx.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUYCRX47fCp7ImA9WhRXEU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-6838073724749579393</id><published>2011-12-17T03:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-17T03:59:24.004-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-17T03:59:24.004-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="guilty" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="goliath" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="cry" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="poem" /><title>Goodbye, I-i-i...</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/6838073724749579393/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/12/goodbye-i-i-i.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/6838073724749579393?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/6838073724749579393?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/jtskgpMuXsU/goodbye-i-i-i.html" title="Goodbye, I-i-i..." /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
When I leave next day
Like that
Silent - with the rain
Please Goliath, don't you cry

Kill us both in one shot
And let this guilty alone to die
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1sn0SYBOdZxFWoDXRQXeUPG0F_I/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1sn0SYBOdZxFWoDXRQXeUPG0F_I/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/1sn0SYBOdZxFWoDXRQXeUPG0F_I/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1sn0SYBOdZxFWoDXRQXeUPG0F_I/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/jtskgpMuXsU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/12/goodbye-i-i-i.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkMGSHk9eyp7ImA9WhRXEEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-2852216431154500145</id><published>2011-12-16T11:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-16T11:40:29.763-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-16T11:40:29.763-08:00</app:edited><title>Adeus você, eu vo-</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/2852216431154500145/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/12/quando-eu-for-embora-assim-de-canto-por.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/2852216431154500145?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/2852216431154500145?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/9vsj6jwbAks/quando-eu-for-embora-assim-de-canto-por.html" title="Adeus você, eu vo-" /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Quando eu for embora
Assim
De canto
Por favor, Golias, não chora.

Nos mata de uma vez
E leva a culpa lá pra fora.
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZRBNsDVlTJmoaFnboVMbBIjnioI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZRBNsDVlTJmoaFnboVMbBIjnioI/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/ZRBNsDVlTJmoaFnboVMbBIjnioI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZRBNsDVlTJmoaFnboVMbBIjnioI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/9vsj6jwbAks" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/12/quando-eu-for-embora-assim-de-canto-por.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU4GRHc5fCp7ImA9WhRQE0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-8909569833766691563</id><published>2011-12-07T19:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-07T19:12:05.924-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-07T19:12:05.924-08:00</app:edited><title>desabafar é preciso, amar também é preciso</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/8909569833766691563/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/12/desabafar-e-preciso-amar-tambem-e.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/8909569833766691563?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/8909569833766691563?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/L9INIHvrCs0/desabafar-e-preciso-amar-tambem-e.html" title="desabafar é preciso, amar também é preciso" /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
é tão ridiculo
como eu sinto sua falta
mesmo quando voce está por perto
assim, do meu lado
rindo sem olhar pra mim
bem legal... sei lá

é meio triste
saber que não te atraio
assim, saber que o que sinto é desnecessário
que não faz diferença alguma
que não tem força nenhuma

é tão desesperador, saca...
tentar e tentar e não conseguir nada
e ter que fingir o tempo todo um bem-estar
só pra que não 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xYHNaCMs05deMNkV-1gpFCFYQ2Y/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xYHNaCMs05deMNkV-1gpFCFYQ2Y/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/xYHNaCMs05deMNkV-1gpFCFYQ2Y/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xYHNaCMs05deMNkV-1gpFCFYQ2Y/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/L9INIHvrCs0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/12/desabafar-e-preciso-amar-tambem-e.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUFRHo6cSp7ImA9WhRQEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-6743124172031633838</id><published>2011-12-06T18:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-06T19:06:55.419-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-06T19:06:55.419-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="canto dos malditos na terra do nunca" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="henrique santana cordeiro" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sinta vontade" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="novela" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blog fiction" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="i fell in love with a dead boy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Antony and the Johnsons" /><title>I Fell in Love with a Dead boy I</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/6743124172031633838/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/12/i-fell-in-love-with-dead-boy.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/6743124172031633838?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/6743124172031633838?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/lBGDS6QHtRw/i-fell-in-love-with-dead-boy.html" title="I Fell in Love with a Dead boy I" /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">



- Ele está morto – disse Henri do outro lado da linha.

- Mas... como assim? Você mesmo disse ontem que...

- Eu sei, eu sei... Os médicos também não entenderam. Ele simplesmente não acordou mais.



Tu tu tu tu tu... Desliguei o telefone e um abismo temporal se fez no meu quarto.

Hoje era seis de dezembro. Meia-noite. Cheiro de dia cinza se esgueirava pelas ruas do meu imaginário. Deitados 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CQ-sAOJzDUp_VhpnXFBEoqGzMrw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CQ-sAOJzDUp_VhpnXFBEoqGzMrw/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/CQ-sAOJzDUp_VhpnXFBEoqGzMrw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CQ-sAOJzDUp_VhpnXFBEoqGzMrw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/lBGDS6QHtRw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/12/i-fell-in-love-with-dead-boy.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkEFQnkyeSp7ImA9WhRQEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-3389133885717649641</id><published>2011-12-05T07:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-05T07:23:33.791-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-05T07:23:33.791-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="SELF" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poesias" /><title>hoje, sábado</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/3389133885717649641/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/12/hoje-sabado.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/3389133885717649641?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/3389133885717649641?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/dmAcVvlS9_M/hoje-sabado.html" title="hoje, sábado" /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">
E se assim se manifesta
De quem importa o dilema, boba?

Os vultos
Resquício de um sábado passado
Se são só aquelas duas figuras
Fingindo nada, enamorado...
De que importa o poema, tola?

Se é no fechar
Os olhos semi-abertos
Para ficar no escuro
Como no escuro daquele espaço com fumaça e luz e gritos e nada
Só para se sentir em pedaços
Involuntário
De que importa o sonho, idiota?

Nem os teus 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/f3IRsyUHt0ygXFINkPsCZChSb3I/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/f3IRsyUHt0ygXFINkPsCZChSb3I/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/f3IRsyUHt0ygXFINkPsCZChSb3I/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/f3IRsyUHt0ygXFINkPsCZChSb3I/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/dmAcVvlS9_M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/12/hoje-sabado.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0cGRngycSp7ImA9WhRRF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-1286367563909992878</id><published>2011-12-01T09:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-01T09:03:47.699-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-01T09:03:47.699-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poesias" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pensando Bem" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poesia" /><title>Paródia</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/1286367563909992878/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/12/parodia.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/1286367563909992878?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/1286367563909992878?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/3vUCLvcLhbc/parodia.html" title="Paródia" /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">E se quiser?
- não come -
E se falar?
-não corre -
E se fugir?
- só fume -
Se escorregar?
- encolhe -

Quando eu morrer
- vai embora!
Vou te chamar
- lá fora...
Se quiser
- na fonte -
Vamos fingir
- se esconde.

Porque ai
Lá no fundo
Eu vou tingir
De escuro
O teu cantar
Dantesco

- Mas vou te falar.
- Que foi?

Me esqueço.
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NElW8FBaI8QLqCvrCLCddTU2T98/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NElW8FBaI8QLqCvrCLCddTU2T98/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NElW8FBaI8QLqCvrCLCddTU2T98/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NElW8FBaI8QLqCvrCLCddTU2T98/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/3vUCLvcLhbc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/12/parodia.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcAQH06eip7ImA9WhRREUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-1031919232358702587</id><published>2011-11-24T08:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-24T08:44:01.312-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-24T08:44:01.312-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poesia" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="prosopopeia" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="elegia" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Golias" /><title>Câmbio</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/1031919232358702587/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/11/cambio.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/1031919232358702587?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/1031919232358702587?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/fj3Td2ZjM3A/cambio.html" title="Câmbio" /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Meu imaginário coletivo:

Várias formas

- Os Gritos de dois vencidos.

Comediantes negros de uma paródia:

Meu imaginar instintivo

Quase uma rapsódia -
Depois de uma elegia perdida
Ou uma Prosopopeia de agora.

(pegandoasombranosustoemurmurandoemteuouvido):

Te imaginar no meu coletivo
Com Golias
É o fechar da aurora...
É finginr que não sinto
É uma poesia sem forma.
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mXq_o3fkzIA-0f8m3RfwLVLAHnc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mXq_o3fkzIA-0f8m3RfwLVLAHnc/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/mXq_o3fkzIA-0f8m3RfwLVLAHnc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mXq_o3fkzIA-0f8m3RfwLVLAHnc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/fj3Td2ZjM3A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/11/cambio.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cAR3Y_eyp7ImA9WhRSGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-436343930840834433</id><published>2011-11-21T20:08:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T20:10:46.843-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-21T20:10:46.843-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Reflexo" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poesia" /><title>Despreza mais</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/436343930840834433/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/11/despreza-mais.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/436343930840834433?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/436343930840834433?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/WsVC9R2Cn-o/despreza-mais.html" title="Despreza mais" /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Então é isso
Eu fico aqui com meus vermes
E você fica com medo de longe

- Não dá pra pegar nessa mão
Não dá pra beijar essa boca
Não dá pra segurar esse corpo
Não dá pra tirar tua roupa.

E vou ficar aqui limpando meu sangue
Que escorre sei motivo ou saber.

Vou ficar aqui morrendo de fome
Dessa angústia sonora
Em não ter.
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OlRyr0HZDuh5iOQKGfHJOLhjFl8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OlRyr0HZDuh5iOQKGfHJOLhjFl8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OlRyr0HZDuh5iOQKGfHJOLhjFl8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/OlRyr0HZDuh5iOQKGfHJOLhjFl8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/WsVC9R2Cn-o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/11/despreza-mais.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UFQHY7eyp7ImA9WhRSGEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-2347476994241728195</id><published>2011-11-21T03:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T03:33:31.803-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-21T03:33:31.803-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="SELF" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poesia" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="poema" /><title>Dia de sol</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/2347476994241728195/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/11/dia-de-sol.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/2347476994241728195?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/2347476994241728195?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/P3hHvTX8fqM/dia-de-sol.html" title="Dia de sol" /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Tá chovendo
Tá chovendo
Tá chovendo
Tem uma tempestade
Lá no fundo
Aqui calado
Aqui dentro
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XL7QzXGJdl6KXEEqBVF3X60Mzw0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XL7QzXGJdl6KXEEqBVF3X60Mzw0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XL7QzXGJdl6KXEEqBVF3X60Mzw0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XL7QzXGJdl6KXEEqBVF3X60Mzw0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/P3hHvTX8fqM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/11/dia-de-sol.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkEHSXk-eCp7ImA9WhRSF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-7533297525865203520</id><published>2011-11-19T18:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-19T18:03:58.750-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-19T18:03:58.750-08:00</app:edited><title>Idiota</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/7533297525865203520/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/11/idiota.html#comment-form" title="1 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/7533297525865203520?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/7533297525865203520?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/pmVpfm-1bf4/idiota.html" title="Idiota" /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><content type="html">
pensando 
pensando
pensando
tentando tentando tentando
mentindo 
mentindo
mentindo
sonhando morrendo acordado
fim.
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/i26FA_ECD88c_nCfwfic_m0OV2w/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/i26FA_ECD88c_nCfwfic_m0OV2w/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/i26FA_ECD88c_nCfwfic_m0OV2w/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/i26FA_ECD88c_nCfwfic_m0OV2w/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/pmVpfm-1bf4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/11/idiota.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Dk8GSXw5eSp7ImA9WhRSFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-2997457907007713466</id><published>2011-11-18T11:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-18T11:33:48.221-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-18T11:33:48.221-08:00</app:edited><title>Alguns recados</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/2997457907007713466/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/11/alguns-recados.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/2997457907007713466?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/2997457907007713466?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/6M4MktCxIaM/alguns-recados.html" title="Alguns recados" /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">- Tristeza mandou lembranças
- Melancolia disse que tá voltando logo
- Depressão está pegando o ônibus
- E o choro ainda tem esperanças.

- A alegria tá pensando em ir embora
- E Carícias disse que não adianta.
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TVVIHXFqS8C1RN6GufG-uRe8i-I/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TVVIHXFqS8C1RN6GufG-uRe8i-I/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/TVVIHXFqS8C1RN6GufG-uRe8i-I/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TVVIHXFqS8C1RN6GufG-uRe8i-I/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/6M4MktCxIaM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/11/alguns-recados.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU8FQ3Y-eip7ImA9WhRSFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-3510146959488345714</id><published>2011-11-18T11:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-18T11:16:52.852-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-18T11:16:52.852-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Reflexo" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="SELF" /><title>Narcisismo</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/3510146959488345714/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/11/narcisismo.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/3510146959488345714?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/3510146959488345714?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/sbGDYAWlAh0/narcisismo.html" title="Narcisismo" /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">E tente esquecer as demandas
O arquétipo simples
A beleza polida

esqueça essa atração reprimida

E tente imaginar o contrário
Que seu corpo é um corpo
E seu rosto um atalho

esqueça essa atração inibida

E tente fingir as verdades
Ouça os "nada a ver isso ai"
E faz-de-conta-que-vão-te-olhar-de-verdade

esqueça o verso da música

E contente-se com sua mão
Obedeça ao seu desespero
E, no fim, seu 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dCXzs5OCJbqz1uIbPr8NtCC1tUw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dCXzs5OCJbqz1uIbPr8NtCC1tUw/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/dCXzs5OCJbqz1uIbPr8NtCC1tUw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dCXzs5OCJbqz1uIbPr8NtCC1tUw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/sbGDYAWlAh0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/11/narcisismo.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMFSXg-eSp7ImA9WhRSFk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-6518252778301370025</id><published>2011-11-18T04:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-18T04:46:58.651-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-18T04:46:58.651-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Reflexo" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poesias" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pensando Bem" /><title>Pesadelo</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/6518252778301370025/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/11/pesadelo.html#comment-form" title="2 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/6518252778301370025?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/6518252778301370025?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/pw_cqL8vGPk/pesadelo.html" title="Pesadelo" /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><content type="html">E esse vislumbrar
do seu eu-sonhando:

De lado
As mãos próximas,
braços colados,
e a calmaria no rosto.

Pálpebras fechadas,
mas olhar atento.
Me faz rir esse sorriso leve
Que só sente-se como o vento.

E as pernas que as vezes se movem
E a respiração que as vezes se enaltece.

Esse vislumbrar
Do teu sono
Essa cara de anjo, que no fundo é demônio
É o sagrado momento.

Esse vislumbrar do sono
É o 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mbVY15HECBqI4c45hr1U2yiAsqg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mbVY15HECBqI4c45hr1U2yiAsqg/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/mbVY15HECBqI4c45hr1U2yiAsqg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mbVY15HECBqI4c45hr1U2yiAsqg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/pw_cqL8vGPk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/11/pesadelo.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMEQnkzeSp7ImA9WhRSFUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-2577869072953396062</id><published>2011-11-17T10:56:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-17T11:00:03.781-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-17T11:00:03.781-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="deixa" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poesias" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poesia" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Golias" /><title>Não, eu não deixo.</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/2577869072953396062/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/11/nao-eu-nao-deixo.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/2577869072953396062?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/2577869072953396062?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/ZhvuJx8ul6w/nao-eu-nao-deixo.html" title="Não, eu não deixo." /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Deixa eu continuar brincando
Continuar sonhando
Agindo de forma pouca
Fazendo de conta que adianta 
E que não se estraga a poupa.

Deixa eu continuar dizendo que abandono
Quando em sonho
Corro pros teus braços
E apago o pranto

Deixa eu tocar teus cabelos
Deslizar por entre eles
Diminuir os teus medos

Deixa eu tentar o contrário
Correr pelo quarto
Te tirar do nosso armário
E sair por ai.

Deixa 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5YDAej44tkxD1xa1zLCJCRPzi5I/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5YDAej44tkxD1xa1zLCJCRPzi5I/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/5YDAej44tkxD1xa1zLCJCRPzi5I/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5YDAej44tkxD1xa1zLCJCRPzi5I/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/ZhvuJx8ul6w" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/11/nao-eu-nao-deixo.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcEQ384cCp7ImA9WhRSFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3039265335187911890.post-5911104250330531561</id><published>2011-11-16T10:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T10:26:42.138-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-16T10:26:42.138-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poesia" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="No Sense" /><title>É isso?</title><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/feeds/5911104250330531561/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/11/e-isso.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/5911104250330531561?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3039265335187911890/posts/default/5911104250330531561?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~3/UebbP-HfY9Q/e-isso.html" title="É isso?" /><author><name>Henrique Santana C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15882699968580816572</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="24" height="32" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6b94imtlpYY/TtONbc3lcKI/AAAAAAAAA9g/TN-AQTxfZ04/s220/306455_323064941042710_100000176202718_1526294_1413663747_n.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><content type="html">Sobre subir
Sobre descer

essa coisa de nível e de porquê

Sei de mais nada.
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YguEuDT7t-9nCuZb4oz7IPN55JQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YguEuDT7t-9nCuZb4oz7IPN55JQ/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/YguEuDT7t-9nCuZb4oz7IPN55JQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YguEuDT7t-9nCuZb4oz7IPN55JQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Concertinamuda/~4/UebbP-HfY9Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://henriquesc.blogspot.com/2011/11/e-isso.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

