<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3511379933176880105</id><updated>2026-01-14T01:26:22.557-08:00</updated><category term="Matheus Carmo - Rodolpho Baltazar"/><title type='text'>Ociosidade Moderna</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ociosidademoderna.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3511379933176880105/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ociosidademoderna.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3511379933176880105/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Rodolpho Baltazar</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10842828758462400149</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilHUqN5cNTGsX_9y3_TllLNBr2KP37n14ZC5s8SP_DPEdmtOAPGmbTfsqsnGflUtywuIZhNQzIYh8t-3LEadAu-OFJqCsOmvPFKTWXtitY4xaKpX-ZdqcrLQYeI4RnJw/s220/garfield.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><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3511379933176880105.post-8294448741869546473</id><published>2014-08-23T20:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2014-08-23T20:33:02.178-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Alguns meses Menezes</title><content type='html'>I&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
O que irá ficar não será essa dor mastigável,&lt;br /&gt;
essa dor,&lt;br /&gt;
é mastigável,&lt;br /&gt;
digerível,&lt;br /&gt;
porque o que irá ficar,&lt;br /&gt;
é o que nos ficou,&lt;br /&gt;
e não foi em nenhum momento,&lt;br /&gt;
essa dor, mastigável.&lt;br /&gt;
Que ainda mastigo, mas,&lt;br /&gt;
contigo, paz,&lt;br /&gt;
Domingo, Jaz,&lt;br /&gt;
mastigável.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
II&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Vezes ou outra me chamava: - Nego,&lt;br /&gt;
e de tão meigo me parti ao meio,&lt;br /&gt;
adjetivante, suas palavras,&lt;br /&gt;
substantivante, seus sorrisos,&lt;br /&gt;
complementantes, nossas falas,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
brasas e almas nos faz abrigo.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
III&lt;br /&gt;
De todo teor,&lt;br /&gt;
mais amor,&lt;br /&gt;
de toda postura de ser em pé,&lt;br /&gt;
mais fé,&lt;br /&gt;
de seus conselhos,&lt;br /&gt;
almejo,&lt;br /&gt;
posto que é desejo,&lt;br /&gt;
e só lá, nesta dimensão,&lt;br /&gt;
felicidade eterna,&lt;br /&gt;
e aconchego.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
de seu &quot;nego&quot;, seguido de &quot;merda&quot;, com &quot;erre&quot; fricativo,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Matheus Carmo.&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;div id=&quot;fb-root&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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mesmo tão longe,&lt;br /&gt;
longe me machuca,&lt;br /&gt;
se não de saudosismo,&lt;br /&gt;
de ciúme e surta.&lt;br /&gt;
Aquele Selfie rarefeito,&lt;br /&gt;
ao seu par perfeito,&lt;br /&gt;
nunca quis tanto cobrir meus olhos,&lt;br /&gt;
com a fumaça companheira do meu charuto Gabriela.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Matheus Carmo&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;div id=&quot;fb-root&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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uma...espera, quase como outro qualquer.&lt;br /&gt;
quase como outra qualquer, &lt;br /&gt;
havia uma outra, glamorosa, talvez qualquer, que chamava a atenção de qualquer homem da oliva, pra não dizer &quot;antropofagia&quot;, que entrasse nesse ônibus.&lt;br /&gt;
A sorte, ela dividia os assentos comigo.&lt;br /&gt;
Na velocidade costumeira de que um ônibus qualquer&amp;nbsp;cruza as paralelas às 21 horas, a tal &quot;Parada Solicitada&quot;, então, saltei:&lt;br /&gt;
- Obrigado, motô. &lt;br /&gt;
Em terra firme, a qual outros chamam de passeio,&lt;br /&gt;
eu ainda olhava a glamorosa por intermédio da janela do ônibus, e ele, ainda a espera de mais passageiros, me cedia a oportunidade de concretizar meus mais héteros pensamentos quando,&lt;br /&gt;
ela, a glamorosa, inclina o&amp;nbsp;olhar para mim. Fixa, se levanta, e caminha em direção ao motorista, fixando mais ainda o olhar em mim. Aquela andada de cego da oliva, ao modo que o passo avança, o pescoço se inclina.&lt;br /&gt;
Meu coração, batia Bukowskianamente bem.&lt;br /&gt;
Ao chegar entre a porta de saída do ônibus e a primeira janela, um sorriso somado aquele gesto: mãos do lado de fora da janela me dizendo &quot;vem aqui!&quot;. Eu fui.&lt;br /&gt;
- Você deixou o seu cartão cair, moço.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ao menos não perdi meu emprego do dia seguinte.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Matheus Carmo&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;div id=&quot;fb-root&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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que começar poemas com porque é puro peso-ausente,&lt;br /&gt;
como é difícil carregar essa vida,&lt;br /&gt;
e essa dor todo mundo já sabe, &lt;br /&gt;
não há marte que nos mate de paixão,&lt;br /&gt;
ramificação demais pra essas correntes,&lt;br /&gt;
é aquela escrota vontade,&lt;br /&gt;
que só homem-uísque-velho sabe,&lt;br /&gt;
mas de vaidade,&lt;br /&gt;
a gente vai idade,&lt;br /&gt;
nessa cidade,&lt;br /&gt;
que todo mundo é de oxum,&lt;br /&gt;
outros são de ninguém.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Matheus Carmo&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;div id=&quot;fb-root&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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elas estão enchendo o ego com pouca farinha,&lt;br /&gt;
perdendo amizade por pouca besteira,&lt;br /&gt;
prometendo beber menos e estudarem mais&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Este é um caso não reciclável, menino sabichão.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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and make the end our best friend,&lt;br /&gt;
Obviously, it doesn&#39;t plan&lt;br /&gt;
Easily, we don&#39;t believe that it must be insane.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The end is coming so fast,&lt;br /&gt;
and so, we have to enjoy the rest,&lt;br /&gt;
listening to jazz, which &amp;nbsp;is being played in the West,&lt;br /&gt;
and at last, my stress was the guest&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Like a bird which can fly away,&lt;br /&gt;
my way &#39;play&#39; as the end pay,&lt;br /&gt;
Run away n&#39; say: ok!&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s the way that the end come and stay&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Do it over to don&#39;t forget&lt;br /&gt;
cuz my words may be fat,&lt;br /&gt;
as my pride, as when I bet,&lt;br /&gt;
as the little seven lives of a cat.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Against and again wrote a man,&lt;br /&gt;
made by a strong pain and his pen,&lt;br /&gt;
spending the felling in his vein at ten,&lt;br /&gt;
all the end in vain if we are not prepared to be men.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Matheus Carmo&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;div id=&quot;fb-root&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
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- I&#39;d like to watch a concert of artists, and or, bands which are still alive and has my respect like: Paul McCartney, Led Z., Rolling S., AC/DC, Deep Purple, etc.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- I must watch a concert of artists, and or, bands which are still alive and has my respect like: Paul McCartney, Led Z., Rolling S., AC/DC, Deep Purple, etc.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- I&#39;ll watch a concert of artists, and or, bands which are still alive and has my respect like: Paul McCartney, Led Z., Rolling S., AC/DC, Deep Purple, etc.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Brazilian artists are already included.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Jards Macelé, isn&#39;t it?!&lt;br /&gt;
Of course!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Boozy, as brief as possible!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What modal will you choose?&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;- My way!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I asked about modal, not mode...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Ought to.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Whyn&#39;t must?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
- Cuz harken doesn&#39;t come first.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Matheus Carmo&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;div id=&quot;fb-root&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;div&gt;
- Left for a dream!&lt;br /&gt;
But nobody knows what does it mean...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Powered by an inspiration,&lt;br /&gt;
flirtations engendered,&lt;br /&gt;
I have had a lack of imagination.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was a flood trying to wake me up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The beyond telling me: I&#39;m the dawn, which dwells in your poison heart.&lt;br /&gt;
When everything is going down,&lt;br /&gt;
I must crawl.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Everything ends up getting on the floor,&lt;br /&gt;
the rain, the words, and the body,&lt;br /&gt;
obviously it must be better,&lt;br /&gt;
when we go together,&lt;br /&gt;
breaking the law.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today someone confused me,&lt;br /&gt;
It was me,&lt;br /&gt;
lying for an interruped action.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Matheus Carmo&lt;/div&gt;
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The wisdom is more significant than the intelligence which we believe we have, because of this, I&#39;m drinking the gulp that this winter has given me, I am writing to besides the insanity that exists in our literary vein, I&#39;m reading my own mistakes in a poetic way, just to learn and internalize we must bear in mind that, how much more we make mistakes, we have more certainty about the right way to make a mistake, and every mistake is indispensable. I&#39;m a right mistake for any poems, I&#39;m a bird when it is flying inside of me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Matheus Carmo&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;div id=&quot;fb-root&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
In poems you have to tell short lies&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In short stories you have to tell long lies&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Indeed, invetion is not my piece of cake.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Matheus Carmo&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;div id=&quot;fb-root&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Café&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Nada pior do que uma Guerra Aziática no estômago.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Matheus Carmo&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;div id=&quot;fb-root&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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isso deve provar a evolução humana,&lt;br /&gt;
eu devo estar completamente atrasado,&lt;br /&gt;
mas nunca me mande:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
-Forrar uma cama de casal.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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Observando às 5 de la tarde,&lt;br /&gt;
aquela moça formosa-linda-popozuda jogar o lixo fora todos os dias,&lt;br /&gt;
me fez entender que o pão da nova padaria do bairro é uma delícia.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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Vinte e cinco folhas são o suficiente.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
De toda dedicação ao Vizionário,&lt;br /&gt;
(http://vizionarios.blogspot.com.br/)&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
Não terei condições alguma de ir para faculdade amanhã de manhã.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Matheus Carmo&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;div id=&quot;fb-root&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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de cansaço e tédio,&lt;br /&gt;
ta tudo uma merda,&lt;br /&gt;
só uma virgula me salva,&lt;br /&gt;
não há cerveja,&lt;br /&gt;
não há cigarro,&lt;br /&gt;
só esse imenso vazio-frio sem biscoito recheado&lt;br /&gt;
Tô pensando em escrever um livreto sobre paixões em ponto de ônibus,&lt;br /&gt;
há cada dia me surge uma nova ideia,&lt;br /&gt;
ai vai um pouco da minha rotina,&lt;br /&gt;
dessa canseira de 2, 80.&lt;br /&gt;
No mais, estou imprestável pra&#39;quele pé, sob as nuas fria deste seu calcanhar.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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dos poemas tristes&lt;br /&gt;
da falta de inspiração&lt;br /&gt;
mas há um pouco de mim em cada lugar acima.&lt;br /&gt;
Fundamental esta conjunção verbal também.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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É uma viaje.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
E seguem, as viagens,&lt;br /&gt;
preocupação atrás de preocupação,&lt;br /&gt;
não, &amp;nbsp;não as crianças, mas o tempo,&lt;br /&gt;
por não nos dizer muito.&lt;br /&gt;
Tantos, nem a mesa de bar aliviaria esta preocupação, no fim das contas,&lt;br /&gt;
ampliaria.&lt;br /&gt;
Não é nem uma questão de amor e outros meios de afetividade,&lt;br /&gt;
é uma questão de sustento, e outros meios de findar o mês.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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fará mestrado,&lt;br /&gt;
e ganhará bastante dinheiro,&lt;br /&gt;
pensei em professora de História,&lt;br /&gt;
mas pode ser qualquer outra coisa que lhe deixe mais formosa,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Quero vê-la sorrir,&lt;br /&gt;
quero vê-la cantar,&lt;br /&gt;
quero ver o seu corpo dançar sem parar!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
em violações governamentais&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
são puros 15 quilos de gorduras verbais,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
a agência nacional de saúde literária me agradece&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
e o melhor blogspot,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
é a minha timeline.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Matheus Carmo&lt;div class=&quot;blogger-post-footer&quot;&gt;&lt;div id=&quot;fb-root&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Está enganada.&lt;br /&gt;
Não me chame, Serena,&lt;br /&gt;
porque não me chore,&lt;br /&gt;
eu sem você, &amp;nbsp;Serena&lt;br /&gt;
jamais suportaria a dor de uma separação, &lt;br /&gt;
eu bem te conheço,&lt;br /&gt;
não fale comigo,&lt;br /&gt;
jamais.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Enquanto que os panos do banheiro continuarem molhados,&lt;br /&gt;
me esqueça.&lt;br /&gt;
Enquanto que a sua tirania for maior do que o nosso bem estar,&lt;br /&gt;
Estarei sempre a te ignorar, ao jeito que tu me ignoras.&lt;br /&gt;
Enquanto que você for fé,&lt;br /&gt;
Eu sempre serei montanhas.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ai Serena, &amp;nbsp;se tu só noite fosses,&lt;br /&gt;
quanto terias me resfriado...&lt;br /&gt;
Se doces fosses,&lt;br /&gt;
quanto terias me endiabetado,&lt;br /&gt;
mas o Gim é um veneno,&lt;br /&gt;
e tu és mulher.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ao modo que me tens,&lt;br /&gt;
eu sou menos.&lt;br /&gt;
Ao modo que te tenho,&lt;br /&gt;
tu que me quer.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Matheus Carmo&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
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Você pode ser pisoteado,&lt;br /&gt;
ter lhe arrancado os pulsos,&lt;br /&gt;
estar se sentindo jogado,&lt;br /&gt;
e estar latindo feito cachorro,&lt;br /&gt;
mas se sentir cachorro é,&lt;br /&gt;
se sentir apaixonado ao grau máximo,&lt;br /&gt;
Pela mulher que você ama.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Não tem por onde,&lt;br /&gt;
não há porque,&lt;br /&gt;
O que lhe prende,&lt;br /&gt;
esmaga,&lt;br /&gt;
o que lhe afaga,&lt;br /&gt;
espreme,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
tudo o que você não queria,&lt;br /&gt;
mas o lado bom de ser.&lt;br /&gt;
Dizer &quot; te amo&quot;, com toda força,&lt;br /&gt;
com todo ímpeto,&lt;br /&gt;
e cheio de vontade,&lt;br /&gt;
o que nos queima,&lt;br /&gt;
arde,&lt;br /&gt;
e nossa idade,&lt;br /&gt;
nos permite querer,&lt;br /&gt;
passar ao longo das estrelas,&lt;br /&gt;
e te ter.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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tem que pegar leve,&lt;br /&gt;
tem que confiar mais,&lt;br /&gt;
procurar disciplina,&lt;br /&gt;
sabedoria,&lt;br /&gt;
sentir o ar, límpido ou poluído, adentrar-se nas narinas,&lt;br /&gt;
e se repor,&lt;br /&gt;
se recompor,&lt;br /&gt;
se melhorar.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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