<?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;CkACRHYzeSp7ImA9WhRXEUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783</id><updated>2011-12-17T17:12:45.881-08:00</updated><title>POESIA NO CELULAR</title><subtitle type="html">Espaço do poeta, músico e produtor Jacytan Melo.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>38</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/PoesiaNoCelular" /><feedburner:info uri="poesianocelular" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><feedburner:emailServiceId>PoesiaNoCelular</feedburner:emailServiceId><feedburner:feedburnerHostname>http://feedburner.google.com</feedburner:feedburnerHostname><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04MRHwyeSp7ImA9WhRSGUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-5646142342300473681</id><published>2011-11-22T04:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-22T04:46:25.291-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-22T04:46:25.291-08:00</app:edited><title>Maltrato do Recife</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MCGR0-BBpvqc22TtOzvTRYuBER4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MCGR0-BBpvqc22TtOzvTRYuBER4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MCGR0-BBpvqc22TtOzvTRYuBER4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MCGR0-BBpvqc22TtOzvTRYuBER4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-75VAqmFjRhk/TsuZKu37NBI/AAAAAAAAHtA/gPdLHB3mBgc/s1600/recife.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-75VAqmFjRhk/TsuZKu37NBI/AAAAAAAAHtA/gPdLHB3mBgc/s1600/recife.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Foto: Zé Afonso Stock&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Estão querendo acabar contigo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;[meu Recife&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Não te respeitam como antes&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;(apesar de idade avançada)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;te vejo suja, mal cheirosa,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;em todo canto que passo&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;te vejo nua,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;com uma avenida disforme&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;rasgando teu ventre.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Prédios sujos, mal acabados,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;abandonados, assombroso,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;assombrados,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;completam o auto-retrato&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;de tua feiúra.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mudaste muito,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;não é mais aquela cidade&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;chamada bela Recife&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;cantada em versos e prosas,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;até os cinemas não existem mais.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Andas inchada,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;abarrotada de tantos carros&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;poluída, esquecida, mal vestida.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Tenho pela de ti&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;[meu Recife&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;tenho pena de ti.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Jacytan Melo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Recife, 8/dezembro/2009&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1355247202672523783-5646142342300473681?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/1zAOYQPwfFQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/5646142342300473681/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2011/11/maltrato-do-recife.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/5646142342300473681?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/5646142342300473681?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/1zAOYQPwfFQ/maltrato-do-recife.html" title="Maltrato do Recife" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-75VAqmFjRhk/TsuZKu37NBI/AAAAAAAAHtA/gPdLHB3mBgc/s72-c/recife.jpeg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2011/11/maltrato-do-recife.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkANQns-cSp7ImA9WhRSGUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-7681658834743143946</id><published>2011-11-22T02:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-22T02:46:33.559-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-22T02:46:33.559-08:00</app:edited><title>Imagem</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/j1fSjwlzpVMkLhdBdgYB9nIsvIA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/j1fSjwlzpVMkLhdBdgYB9nIsvIA/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/j1fSjwlzpVMkLhdBdgYB9nIsvIA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/j1fSjwlzpVMkLhdBdgYB9nIsvIA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qETc5NC7Cs4/Tst9SfOoTOI/AAAAAAAAHr4/X7hMJXq9BDc/s1600/existencia+humana2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qETc5NC7Cs4/Tst9SfOoTOI/AAAAAAAAHr4/X7hMJXq9BDc/s1600/existencia+humana2.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Minha imagem,&lt;br /&gt;presa nos labirintos&lt;br /&gt;da existência humana,&lt;br /&gt;luta para seguir rumo natural,&lt;br /&gt;buscando uma saída.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tempo passa depressa&lt;br /&gt;sem dar tempo &lt;br /&gt;de recompor fragmentos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje, só sombras passeiam&lt;br /&gt;pelos corredores do imaginário.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jacytan Melo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Recife, Novembro/2009&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.cursos24horas.com.br/parceiro.asp?cod=promocao3885&amp;amp;id=4193" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Cursos Online com Certificado" height="139" src="http://www.cursos24h.net.br/banners/gif2/110x139.gif" style="border: none;" width="110" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.cursos24horas.com.br/parceiro.asp?cod=promocao3885&amp;amp;id=4193" style="color: #028acc; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"&gt;Cursos Online&lt;/a&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1355247202672523783-7681658834743143946?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/cg_ooa_BKJE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/7681658834743143946/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2011/11/imagem.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/7681658834743143946?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/7681658834743143946?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/cg_ooa_BKJE/imagem.html" title="Imagem" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qETc5NC7Cs4/Tst9SfOoTOI/AAAAAAAAHr4/X7hMJXq9BDc/s72-c/existencia+humana2.jpeg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2011/11/imagem.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkENRnY5eSp7ImA9WhRSGE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-671313388807475436</id><published>2011-11-20T12:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-20T12:24:57.821-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-20T12:24:57.821-08:00</app:edited><title>De Cara com a Poesia: Extra! extra! De Cara nº 57! Baixe aqui!</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ibVtMNL1tRjSjoCKqZQtieIzLyk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ibVtMNL1tRjSjoCKqZQtieIzLyk/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/ibVtMNL1tRjSjoCKqZQtieIzLyk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ibVtMNL1tRjSjoCKqZQtieIzLyk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://decaracomapoesia.blogspot.com/2011/11/extra-extra-de-cara-n-57-baixe-aqui.html?spref=bl"&gt;De Cara com a Poesia: Extra! extra! De Cara nº 57! Baixe aqui!&lt;/a&gt;: Olá amigos do DE CARA COM A POESIA!     Já está disponível para donwload a mais nova edição do DE CARA.     Neste número, muitas nov...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1355247202672523783-671313388807475436?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/UmTkSSHXa5E" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/671313388807475436/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2011/11/de-cara-com-poesia-extra-extra-de-cara.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/671313388807475436?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/671313388807475436?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/UmTkSSHXa5E/de-cara-com-poesia-extra-extra-de-cara.html" title="De Cara com a Poesia: Extra! extra! De Cara nº 57! Baixe aqui!" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2011/11/de-cara-com-poesia-extra-extra-de-cara.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0MDR308cCp7ImA9Wx5XFEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-2610376082564492583</id><published>2010-09-14T07:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T07:44:36.378-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-14T07:44:36.378-07:00</app:edited><title>Hilda Tempo&gt; Hilst - Morte</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mvEZ63DX1M3RdsYIiP9QBwZ8gGE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mvEZ63DX1M3RdsYIiP9QBwZ8gGE/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/mvEZ63DX1M3RdsYIiP9QBwZ8gGE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mvEZ63DX1M3RdsYIiP9QBwZ8gGE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_23Gp25viCPE/TIwOw8W80zI/AAAAAAAAHfg/-wbV6bniOco/s1600/mooncalf.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_23Gp25viCPE/TIwOw8W80zI/AAAAAAAAHfg/-wbV6bniOco/s400/mooncalf.jpg" width="342" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="cursor: pointer; display: inline; height: 16px; padding-right: 16px; width: 16px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Eu &lt;br /&gt;
Corroendo &lt;br /&gt;
Como Escadas Grandes &lt;br /&gt;
Da Minha Alma. &lt;br /&gt;
Água. Chamas Como te? &lt;br /&gt;
Tempo. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Antes Vivida &lt;br /&gt;
Revestida de laca &lt;br /&gt;
Minha alma tosca &lt;br /&gt;
Se desfazendo. &lt;br /&gt;
Chamas Como te? &lt;br /&gt;
Tempo. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
corroendo Águas &lt;br /&gt;
Caras, coração &lt;br /&gt;
Todas de Cordas do Sentimento &lt;br /&gt;
Chamas Como te? &lt;br /&gt;
Tempo. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Irreconhecível &lt;br /&gt;
Me procuro lenta &lt;br /&gt;
Nos escuros TEUs &lt;br /&gt;
Chamas Como te, breu? &lt;br /&gt;
Tempo. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hilst, Hilda. &lt;i&gt;Da morte. Odes Mínimas.&lt;/i&gt; São Paulo: Globo, 2003. p.71. &lt;br /&gt;
_______ &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Imagem:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/bobblebot/2757710309/in/set-72157606694111660/" target="_blank"&gt;idiota&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="cursor: pointer; display: inline; height: 16px; padding-right: 16px; width: 16px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;, &lt;i&gt;para preen plumagem, desenho,&lt;/i&gt; agosto/2008.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fonte: &lt;a href="http://www.imaginariopoetico.com.br/"&gt;Imaginário Poético&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1355247202672523783-2610376082564492583?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/UXV5sPsSGLU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/2610376082564492583/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2010/09/hilda-tempo-hilst-morte.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/2610376082564492583?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/2610376082564492583?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/UXV5sPsSGLU/hilda-tempo-hilst-morte.html" title="Hilda Tempo&gt; Hilst - Morte" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_23Gp25viCPE/TIwOw8W80zI/AAAAAAAAHfg/-wbV6bniOco/s72-c/mooncalf.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2010/09/hilda-tempo-hilst-morte.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcERHY8cCp7ImA9WxFbGUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-1093707111686822712</id><published>2010-07-12T08:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-12T08:20:05.878-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-12T08:20:05.878-07:00</app:edited><title>Morre Roberto Piva</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/q7Swyd4VJ5_Dh-SXejXvij4dhf0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/q7Swyd4VJ5_Dh-SXejXvij4dhf0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/q7Swyd4VJ5_Dh-SXejXvij4dhf0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/q7Swyd4VJ5_Dh-SXejXvij4dhf0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/TDsyFLPEKFI/AAAAAAAAEHQ/Zr_0WbHSF7A/s1600/poeta+roberto+piva.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/TDsyFLPEKFI/AAAAAAAAEHQ/Zr_0WbHSF7A/s320/poeta+roberto+piva.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Um maiores nomes da poesia marginal brasileira, o poeta Roberto Piva morreu em São Paulo, no sábado, aos 72 anos. O escritor sofria de Mal de Parkinson e estava internado desde o dia 13 de maio no Instituto do Coração por conta de uma insuficiência renal, que evoluiu para uma falência múltipla de órgãos. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Nascido em São Paulo no dia 25 de setembro de 1937, Roberto Piva foi um poeta ligado aos marginais dos anos 60, tendo sido influenciado pelos autores da geração beat americana. Ele foi revelado na coletâneas "Antologia dos Novíssimos", de Massao Ohno, publicado em 1961, e "26 poetas hoje", de Heloisa Buarque de Holanda.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Piva foi professor na rede de ensino público, produtor de shows de rock e é um dos três únicos poetas brasileiros a ser citado no Dicionário Geral do Surrealismo publicado na França.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Em 2005, toda sua obra foi republicada pela editora Globo em três volumes - "Um estrangeiro na legião", "Mala na mão e asas pretas" e "Estranhos sinais de saturno". Seu primeiro livro, "Paranóia", publicado originalmente 1963, foi reeditado em 2009 pelo Instituto Moreira Salles.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Veja trecho de programa com Roberto Piva, exibido na TV Cultura&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hS7nYQ0_WfM&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1?rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hS7nYQ0_WfM&amp;amp;hl=pt_BR&amp;amp;fs=1?rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Leia o poema "Praça da República dos meus sonhos", de Roberto Piva&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
POEMA DA NOITE&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Praça da República dos meus sonhos - Roberto Piva&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A estátua de Álvares de Azevedo é devorada com paciência pela paisagem&lt;br /&gt;
de morfina&lt;br /&gt;
a praça leva pontes aplicadas no centro de seu corpo e crianças brincando&lt;br /&gt;
na tarde de esterco&lt;br /&gt;
Praça da República dos meus sonhos&lt;br /&gt;
onde tudo se faz febre e pombas crucificadas&lt;br /&gt;
onde beatificados vêm agitar as massas&lt;br /&gt;
onde Garcia Lorca espera seu dentista&lt;br /&gt;
onde conquistamos a imensa desolação dos dias mais doces&lt;br /&gt;
os meninos tiveram seus testículos espetados pela multidão&lt;br /&gt;
lábios coagulam sem estardalhaço&lt;br /&gt;
os mictórios tomam um lugar na luz&lt;br /&gt;
e os coqueiros se fixam onde o vento desarruma os cabelos&lt;br /&gt;
Delirium Tremens diante do Paraíso bundas glabras sexos de papel&lt;br /&gt;
anjos deitados nos canteiros cobertos de cal água fumegante nas&lt;br /&gt;
privadas cérebros sulcados de acenos&lt;br /&gt;
os veterinários passam lentos lendo Dom Casmurro&lt;br /&gt;
há jovens pederastas embebidos em lilás&lt;br /&gt;
e putas com a noite passeando em torno de suas unhas&lt;br /&gt;
há uma gota de chuva na cabeleira abandonada&lt;br /&gt;
enquanto o sangue faz naufragar as corolas&lt;br /&gt;
Oh minhas visões lembranças de Rimbaud praça da República dos meus&lt;br /&gt;
Sonhos última sabedoria debruçada numa porta santa&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Roberto Piva nasceu em São Paulo no dia 25 de setembro de 1937. Poeta ligado aos marginais dos anos 60, esteve na Antologia dos Novíssimos de Massao Ohno em 1961 e em 26 poetas hoje de Heloisa Buarque de Holanda. Foi professor na rede de ensino público, produtor de shows de rock e é um dos três únicos poetas brasileiros a ser citado no Dicionário Geral do Surrealismo publicado na França.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1355247202672523783-1093707111686822712?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/6TVwcVB4eKc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/1093707111686822712/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2010/07/morre-roberto-piva.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/1093707111686822712?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/1093707111686822712?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/6TVwcVB4eKc/morre-roberto-piva.html" title="Morre Roberto Piva" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/TDsyFLPEKFI/AAAAAAAAEHQ/Zr_0WbHSF7A/s72-c/poeta+roberto+piva.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2010/07/morre-roberto-piva.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8FQHw_cCp7ImA9WxBWEkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-4148554346375739392</id><published>2010-02-03T16:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T16:20:11.248-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-03T16:20:11.248-08:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Mjhqwf11_HHA71bBNbCeXdu0Glg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Mjhqwf11_HHA71bBNbCeXdu0Glg/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/Mjhqwf11_HHA71bBNbCeXdu0Glg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Mjhqwf11_HHA71bBNbCeXdu0Glg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/S2oRbfFA3ZI/AAAAAAAADsk/XRdixt9b7Pw/s1600-h/20070328-espelho.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/S2oRbfFA3ZI/AAAAAAAADsk/XRdixt9b7Pw/s320/20070328-espelho.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;ESPELHO&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Evito o espelho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;toda vez que me vejo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;diante dele&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;demoro pouco,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;evito vê-lo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Tenho medo de que!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;não sei!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;apenas, evito vê-los.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Jacytan Melo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1355247202672523783-4148554346375739392?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/hypFCFJyEPk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/4148554346375739392/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2010/02/espelho-evito-o-espelho-toda-vez-que-me.html#comment-form" title="2 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/4148554346375739392?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/4148554346375739392?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/hypFCFJyEPk/espelho-evito-o-espelho-toda-vez-que-me.html" title="" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/S2oRbfFA3ZI/AAAAAAAADsk/XRdixt9b7Pw/s72-c/20070328-espelho.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2010/02/espelho-evito-o-espelho-toda-vez-que-me.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4GRXw4fCp7ImA9WxBQGU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-7988165035481205884</id><published>2010-01-19T03:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T03:35:24.234-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-19T03:35:24.234-08:00</app:edited><title>Poema de Di Cavalcanti &gt; Ali ela morava</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XHMP2SovV7rM2HmYxXyaj1eR9f0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XHMP2SovV7rM2HmYxXyaj1eR9f0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XHMP2SovV7rM2HmYxXyaj1eR9f0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XHMP2SovV7rM2HmYxXyaj1eR9f0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 1em 0pt 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedproxy.google.com/%7Er/imaginariopoetico/%7E3/UnHoigcNXO4/poemas-de-di-cavalcanti-ali-ela-morava.html?utm_source=feedburner&amp;amp;utm_medium=email" name="12646549d4ca3486_1" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 18px;" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #555555; font-family: Georgia,Helvetica,Arial,Sans-Serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 140%; margin: 9px 0pt 3px;"&gt; &lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Georgia,Helvetica,Arial,Sans-Serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 140%; margin: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Fonte: Imaginário Poético - &lt;a href="mailto:revistaimaginariopoetico@gmail.com"&gt;revistaimaginariopoetico@gmail.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;Apresento a vocês uma verdadeira raridade que garimpei em um sebo: um poema de Di Cavalcanti publicado na &lt;i&gt;Antologia de Poetas Brasileiros Bissextos Contemporâneos, &lt;/i&gt;organizada e apresentada por Manuel Bandeira em 1946. Mas deixo que o próprio Bandeira apresente o pintor como poeta:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;"O seu verdadeiro nome é Emiliano Cavalcanti, mas sempre se assinou Di Cavalcanti, e às vezes Emiliano Di Cavalcanti. (...) Teve atuação saliente no movimento modernista; foi mesmo dêle que partiu a idéia da 'Semana de Arte Moderna', realizada em São Paulo em fevereiro de 1922. (...) Se Di Cavalcanti não fôsse por vocação pintor, poderia ser escritor, pois tanto no verso como na prosa revela o dom da expressão aguda e original. Afora poemas avulsos, escreveu um livro de poesia, até o presente inédito, intitulado 'O Testamento da Alvorada'."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;O &lt;i&gt;Testamento &lt;/i&gt;poético de Di foi publicado em 1955 e atualmente só pode ser encontrado em alguns sebos pela bagatela de uma centena de notas e uma mão de moedas. Enquanto isso as grandes editoras brasileiras publicam ora autores nacionais que se ocupam com uma literatura de massa, ora&amp;nbsp;traduções baratas de&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;best sellers &lt;/i&gt;de autores estrangeiros cuja qualidade literária não vale as árvores que fizeram tombar para que suas páginas fossem impressas. Nesta perspectiva temos o placar de 3x0 para a publicação na &lt;i&gt;web&lt;/i&gt;: 1 ponto porque não derruba árvores; mais 1 porque não se move ao sabor do mercado editorial, ao menos não necessariamente,&amp;nbsp;e ainda outro por, democraticamente,&amp;nbsp;&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;/wbr&gt;disponibilizar&amp;nbsp;textos importantes e até mesmo indispensáveis à cultura de uma nação, mas às vezes materialmente indisponíveis ao grande público.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;Sendo assim, aproveitem um pouco do poeta Di Cavalcanti, pois é bom, gratuito e&amp;nbsp;ecologicamente correto!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;Abraço a todos,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;dana paulinelli&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a a85c7a186="true" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_23Gp25viCPE/S1SunKk2aTI/AAAAAAAAFZI/qFD6aGPm0wU/s1600-h/o_beijo+_+Di+Cavalcanti+1923.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_23Gp25viCPE/S1SunKk2aTI/AAAAAAAAFZI/qFD6aGPm0wU/s640/o_beijo+_+Di+Cavalcanti+1923.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div h30622d399bd856add0="1.bp.blogspot.com" style="cursor: pointer; display: inline; height: 16px; padding-right: 16px; width: 16px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;[&lt;i&gt;O Beijo, Di Cavalcanti, 1923&lt;/i&gt;]&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A virgem morena&lt;br /&gt;
Pedia pecado.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Na noite do mêdo,&lt;br /&gt;
No lago das cobras,&lt;br /&gt;
Os olhos de fôgo&lt;br /&gt;
Da virgem morena&lt;br /&gt;
Queriam desgraças,&lt;br /&gt;
Queriam paixão...&lt;br /&gt;
O vento açoitava;&lt;br /&gt;
As flores dolentes&lt;br /&gt;
De espasmo murchavam&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="margin: 0px;"&gt;A virgem morena&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px;"&gt;Pedia pecado.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As pernas molhadas&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;De água cheirosa&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Abriam-se em galho&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No negro do céu.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Os seios da virgem,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O' seios da virgem!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dois lírios de ouro.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px;"&gt;A virgem morena&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px;"&gt;Pedia pecado.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A virgem morena&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;É a deusa do mal?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Assim contaram-me no barranco&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;do Rio Grande...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;É aquela que mata&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Os homens fogosos&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que tentam beijá-la?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;É a morta viva dos infernos?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Não tem coração nem alma&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aquela que só deseja o dia&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E vive na treva?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;É ela a rainha de mil desejos flagelada?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px;"&gt;A virgem morena&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px;"&gt;Pedia pecado.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Caiam dos ramos&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Os frutos de sangue&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Corujas e bruxas&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dançavam no ar,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As pombas noturnas&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Morriam de amor.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px;"&gt;A virgem morena&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px;"&gt;Pedia pecado.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Porque essa angústia&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Na incompreendida virgem?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Êste céu negro&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E o visgo verde das folhas venenosas?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Porque tanta coisa maldita&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cercando o corpo da virgem?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px;"&gt;A virgem morena&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px;"&gt;Pedia pecado.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A morte beijou a virgem;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gritavam caiporas&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Uivavam as antas,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As onças hurlavam,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As cobras mordiam&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As ancas das éguas.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O' gritos de corvos!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O' risos de loucos!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A morte beijou a virgem;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nunca ninguém soube seu nome,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seu corpo virou terra,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A erva daninha,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nasceu pela terra&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Com espinhos ferindo os pés dos homens.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px;"&gt;A virgem morena&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px;"&gt;Pedia pecado.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;DI CAVALCANTI, Emiliano. In: BANDEIRA, Manuel. &lt;i&gt;Antologia de Poetas Brasileiros Bissextos Contemporâneos. &lt;/i&gt;1a edição. Rio de Janeiro: Livraria Editora Zelio Valverde, 1946.&amp;nbsp;p.51,53.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img alt="" height="1" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1674334454174008551-7636900831219190942?l=www.imaginariopoetico.com.br" width="1" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img height="1" src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/%7Er/imaginariopoetico/%7E4/UnHoigcNXO4" width="1" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1355247202672523783-7988165035481205884?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/a_73Y3RudOo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/7988165035481205884/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2010/01/poema-de-di-cavalcanti-ali-ela-morava.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/7988165035481205884?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/7988165035481205884?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/a_73Y3RudOo/poema-de-di-cavalcanti-ali-ela-morava.html" title="Poema de Di Cavalcanti &gt; Ali ela morava" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_23Gp25viCPE/S1SunKk2aTI/AAAAAAAAFZI/qFD6aGPm0wU/s72-c/o_beijo+_+Di+Cavalcanti+1923.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2010/01/poema-de-di-cavalcanti-ali-ela-morava.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEMHRH46cSp7ImA9WxBQEkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-8711486216873145730</id><published>2010-01-12T03:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T03:40:35.019-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-12T03:40:35.019-08:00</app:edited><title>Récita da Liberdade - A poesia de Frei Caneca</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mNCB4BjNjhQsc_l5PhkPgdXGv2Y/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mNCB4BjNjhQsc_l5PhkPgdXGv2Y/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/mNCB4BjNjhQsc_l5PhkPgdXGv2Y/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mNCB4BjNjhQsc_l5PhkPgdXGv2Y/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;h3 align="center"&gt;Récita da Liberdade&lt;/h3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Um dos mais importantes personagens da história pernambucana será homenageado próximo dia 13, no Museu da Cidade do Recife. O religioso, jornalista e revolucionário Frei Joaquim do Amor Divino Rabelo – mais conhecido como Frei Caneca –&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;será lembrado em solenidade na sede do próprio museu, no Forte das Cinco  Pontas. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Frei Caneca, um dos mentores intelectuais da Revolução de 1817, foi executado em Recife em 1825. Suas críticas ao governo português ficaram famosas no jornal que editava, o &lt;em&gt;Typhis Pernambucano&lt;/em&gt;. Na homenagem programada no Museu da Cidade do Recife consta um recital de poesia reunindo o elenco do grupo Vozes Femininas: Cida Pedrosa, Mariane Bigio, Silvana Menezes e Suzana Morais e do quartetro de musisitas Flores de Maio.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A programação começa as 17h,  com entrada franca. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="http://www.interpoetica.com/imagens/convite_frei_caneca.jpg" width="275" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;Trecho de um poema de Frei Caneca&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
O peito d’antes sereno&lt;br /&gt;
Centro de amor e ternura,&lt;br /&gt;
Agora é morada escura&lt;br /&gt;
De males mil, com que peno.&lt;br /&gt;
Vós p’ra quem um fado ameno&lt;br /&gt;
Aponta com áureo dedo,&lt;br /&gt;
Fugi de mim porque cedo&lt;br /&gt;
Mudar-se vereis a sorte;&lt;br /&gt;
Pois o meu mal é tão forte,&lt;br /&gt;
Que até de mim tenho medo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a e77402a3cd93f26="true" href="http://www.interpoetica.com/frei_caneca.htm" target="_blank"&gt;Confira outros textos do poeta&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div g2df1c35b37567="interpoetica.com" style="cursor: pointer; display: inline; height: 16px; padding-right: 16px; width: 16px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a e77402a3cd93f26="true" href="http://www.interpoetica.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
INTERPOÉTICA&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div g2df1c35b37567="interpoetica.com" style="cursor: pointer; display: inline; height: 16px; padding-right: 16px; width: 16px;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
o maior acervo da poesia pernambucana na internet&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1355247202672523783-8711486216873145730?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/rBORDHMru2w" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/8711486216873145730/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2010/01/recita-da-liberdade-poesia-de-frei.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/8711486216873145730?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/8711486216873145730?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/rBORDHMru2w/recita-da-liberdade-poesia-de-frei.html" title="Récita da Liberdade - A poesia de Frei Caneca" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2010/01/recita-da-liberdade-poesia-de-frei.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQNQnc8eSp7ImA9WxBQEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-6955820585678229981</id><published>2010-01-11T05:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T05:43:13.971-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-11T05:43:13.971-08:00</app:edited><title>Augusto de Campos - Intradução: asa de akhmátova (1997)</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kYGIOte0X-bIjGKD3NZ_6lFxuTI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kYGIOte0X-bIjGKD3NZ_6lFxuTI/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/kYGIOte0X-bIjGKD3NZ_6lFxuTI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kYGIOte0X-bIjGKD3NZ_6lFxuTI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_23Gp25viCPE/S0pTc9aXp1I/AAAAAAAAFWQ/2V-_kltqzmU/s1600-h/intraducao+asa+de+akhmatova+1997.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_23Gp25viCPE/S0pTc9aXp1I/AAAAAAAAFWQ/2V-_kltqzmU/s400/intraducao+asa+de+akhmatova+1997.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www2.uol.com.br/augustodecampos/poemas.htm" target="_blank"&gt;Augusto de Campos&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jornalpretexto.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Leia o blog&amp;gt; Jornal "Pré-Texto&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/1355247202672523783-6955820585678229981?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/9gtg1I8EwZs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/6955820585678229981/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2010/01/augusto-de-campos-intraducao-asa-de.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/6955820585678229981?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/6955820585678229981?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/9gtg1I8EwZs/augusto-de-campos-intraducao-asa-de.html" title="Augusto de Campos - Intradução: asa de akhmátova (1997)" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_23Gp25viCPE/S0pTc9aXp1I/AAAAAAAAFWQ/2V-_kltqzmU/s72-c/intraducao+asa+de+akhmatova+1997.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2010/01/augusto-de-campos-intraducao-asa-de.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0AERno-fip7ImA9WxBQEk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-1174586074381237254</id><published>2010-01-11T02:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T02:28:27.456-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-11T02:28:27.456-08:00</app:edited><title>LUIZ ALBERTO MACHADO &amp; BANDA NA ARTNOR 2010</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6s5IKDM_LZLzC-i0AAq32jlDMlQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6s5IKDM_LZLzC-i0AAq32jlDMlQ/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/6s5IKDM_LZLzC-i0AAq32jlDMlQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6s5IKDM_LZLzC-i0AAq32jlDMlQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/S0r9GXcC09I/AAAAAAAADqk/3srvZspcPrc/s1600-h/PAINEL~1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ps="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/S0r9GXcC09I/AAAAAAAADqk/3srvZspcPrc/s320/PAINEL~1.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
No próximo dia 18 de janeiro, a partir das 20 hs, na 15ª Feira de Artesanato do Norte e Nordeste – ARTNOR 2010, o compositor e poeta Luiz Alberto Machado realiza show musical apresentando suas composições musicais e poemas, acompanhado de sua banda.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
O show faz parte da programação da ARTNOR 2010 e traz algumas das suas músicas já gravadas por diversos artistas, bem como outras canções, xotes, baladas e frevos de sua autoria.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Luiz Alberto Machado possui formação em Letras e Direito, tendo já publicado 6 livros de poesias, 7 infanto-juvenis, 2 de crônicas e 1 folheto de cordel. Ele é editor do Guia de Poesia do Projeto SobreSites – RJ, é radialista com trabalho em diversas emissoras e membro da Cooperativa dos Músicos de Alagoas – COMUSA.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SERVIÇO: LUIZ ALBERTO MACHADO &amp;amp; BANDA&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Quando: dia 18 de janeiro, a partir das 20hs.&lt;br /&gt;
Onde: XV Feira de Artesanato do Norte e Nordeste – ARTNOR 2010, no Centro Cultural e de Exposições Ruth Cardoso, no bairro de Jaraguá, em Maceió.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ingresso: R$ 2,00 (inteira) e R$ 1,00 (estudante e melhor idade)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ponto de Venda: no local do evento &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Informações: 0800 570 0800, 88454611 ou &lt;a href="http://www.luizalbertomachado.com.br/"&gt;http://www.luizalbertomachado.com.br/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jornalpretexto.blogspot.com/"&gt;Leia o blog: "Jornal Pré-Texto&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&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/1355247202672523783-1174586074381237254?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/JrLNx6RuR6U" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/1174586074381237254/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2010/01/luiz-alberto-machado-banda-na-artnor.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/1174586074381237254?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/1174586074381237254?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/JrLNx6RuR6U/luiz-alberto-machado-banda-na-artnor.html" title="LUIZ ALBERTO MACHADO &amp; BANDA NA ARTNOR 2010" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/S0r9GXcC09I/AAAAAAAADqk/3srvZspcPrc/s72-c/PAINEL~1.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2010/01/luiz-alberto-machado-banda-na-artnor.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0YMSX0-eSp7ImA9WxBRF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-8051675642463828240</id><published>2010-01-05T06:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T06:19:48.351-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-05T06:19:48.351-08:00</app:edited><title>SONHADOR</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/q0ERSbCS2p1R5fZHKnrJkOlvvvI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/q0ERSbCS2p1R5fZHKnrJkOlvvvI/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/q0ERSbCS2p1R5fZHKnrJkOlvvvI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/q0ERSbCS2p1R5fZHKnrJkOlvvvI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/S0NKWkTg5gI/AAAAAAAADp8/E2kbxCnU0Qs/s1600-h/SONHADOR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/S0NKWkTg5gI/AAAAAAAADp8/E2kbxCnU0Qs/s200/SONHADOR.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sou apenas um cidadão&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;pobre, negro, desnutrido,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;nordestino e sem dinheiro no banco&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;sendo obrigado a dizer "sim senhor"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;a pequenos e seletos grupos&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;como forma de sobrevivência.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Eu sou apenas um sonhador&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;que acredita em uma convivência&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;(vivência)&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;mais humana com o semelhante,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;sem precisar pedir-lhe&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;identidade, passaporte,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;comprovante de residência&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;(indigência)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;atestado de antecedentes criminais&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Recife, novembro 2009&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jacytan Melo poeta, músico e produtor&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jornalpretexto.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Leia o blog: "Jornal Pré-Texto"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/1355247202672523783-8051675642463828240?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/_2eBhlkLe-k" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/8051675642463828240/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2010/01/sonhador.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/8051675642463828240?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/8051675642463828240?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/_2eBhlkLe-k/sonhador.html" title="SONHADOR" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/S0NKWkTg5gI/AAAAAAAADp8/E2kbxCnU0Qs/s72-c/SONHADOR.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2010/01/sonhador.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUASX86cCp7ImA9WxBREEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-6082861599857006303</id><published>2009-12-29T03:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T04:04:08.118-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-29T04:04:08.118-08:00</app:edited><title>PRAÇAS DO RECIFE</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KhEXnTiQbKaruoyDomOVxeb7Ows/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KhEXnTiQbKaruoyDomOVxeb7Ows/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/KhEXnTiQbKaruoyDomOVxeb7Ows/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KhEXnTiQbKaruoyDomOVxeb7Ows/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&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/_TntIHGfg_0s/SznsbqwMSFI/AAAAAAAADo4/DQ8iIpxl8iA/s1600-h/Clarisse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/SznsbqwMSFI/AAAAAAAADo4/DQ8iIpxl8iA/s320/Clarisse.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Foto: estátua de Clarice Lispector, na Praça Maciel Pinheiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Praça Maciel Pinheiro&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;ponto de encontro de&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;fumantes, bebados,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;desordeiros, desocupados,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;trambiqueiros, vagabundos,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;religiosos e amantes.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Poderia ser também&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Praça Sérgio Loreto,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Arsenal da Marinha,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;17 de Agosto,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Chora Menino...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Tem sido assim ao longo desses anos&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;esses mesmos personagens&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;misturam-se entre bancos, jardins,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;fontes e luminárias&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;fazendo parte da história&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;desse meu amado Recife.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jacytan Melo, poeta, músico e produtor&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jornalpretexto.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Leia o blog "Jornal Pré-Texto"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/1355247202672523783-6082861599857006303?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/J2wrRS91q-o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/6082861599857006303/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/12/pracas-do-recife.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/6082861599857006303?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/6082861599857006303?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/J2wrRS91q-o/pracas-do-recife.html" title="PRAÇAS DO RECIFE" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/SznsbqwMSFI/AAAAAAAADo4/DQ8iIpxl8iA/s72-c/Clarisse.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/12/pracas-do-recife.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEECQ3c_eyp7ImA9WxBSFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-6024856120595364620</id><published>2009-12-22T04:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T04:57:42.943-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-22T04:57:42.943-08:00</app:edited><title>SILÊNCIO</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/D77eehQWb07QGSDOtDyqrTFYn5c/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/D77eehQWb07QGSDOtDyqrTFYn5c/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/D77eehQWb07QGSDOtDyqrTFYn5c/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/D77eehQWb07QGSDOtDyqrTFYn5c/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/SzC-89fXnqI/AAAAAAAADoI/hIuWRgP6KVU/s1600-h/passadoip9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/SzC-89fXnqI/AAAAAAAADoI/hIuWRgP6KVU/s320/passadoip9.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Meu silêncio é minha sobrevivência&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;é minha vivência entre os vivos,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;entre os mortos, entre as sombras.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Nada falo, nada penso, nada sou&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;apenas ouço gritos e sussurros,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;de uma sociedade em decadência.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;È bom estar em silêncio&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;ouvindo os labirintos da mente&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;o pulsar do coração.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Meu silêncio é minha inspiração&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;nau sem rumo, sem prumo&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;navegando no mar aberto&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;em uma escuridão sinistra.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Meu silêncio incomoda o barulho&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;perturba o caos.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Vai de encontro à luz, pálida,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;fria, enormemente brilhante,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;refletindo meu semblante&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;no cais do porto deserto.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Jacytan Melo, poeta, músico e produtor&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jornalpretexto.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Leia "Jornal Pre-Texto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&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/1355247202672523783-6024856120595364620?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/AndnNs_o8AQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/6024856120595364620/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/12/silencio.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/6024856120595364620?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/6024856120595364620?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/AndnNs_o8AQ/silencio.html" title="SILÊNCIO" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/SzC-89fXnqI/AAAAAAAADoI/hIuWRgP6KVU/s72-c/passadoip9.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/12/silencio.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUYHQ3c5fip7ImA9WxBSFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-919999416153566549</id><published>2009-12-22T03:58:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T03:58:52.926-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-22T03:58:52.926-08:00</app:edited><title>Concurso Prêmios Literários da Cidade do Recife</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gCxtr3L0g0cO7OtQFjovSfLh1dU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gCxtr3L0g0cO7OtQFjovSfLh1dU/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/gCxtr3L0g0cO7OtQFjovSfLh1dU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/gCxtr3L0g0cO7OtQFjovSfLh1dU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div id="blocolermais"&gt; &lt;span class="titulo"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="texto"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img align="left" border="1" class="imgGaleria" height="92" hspace="5" id="imgGaleria277" src="http://www.concursosliterarios.com.br/sites/arquivos/uploads/277.jpg" vspace="5" width="163" /&gt;Durante o período de &lt;strong&gt;15 de dezembro de 2009 a 15 de janeiro de 2010&lt;/strong&gt;, a Prefeitura do Recife, por meio do Conselho Municipal de Cultura, abre as inscrições para o &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.recife.pe.gov.br/2009/12/15/pcr_inscreve_para_premios_literarios_cidade_do_recife_169837.php" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;Concurso Prêmios Literários da Cidade do Recife&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
O objetivo do concurso, criado em 1972, é divulgar e distinguir obras inéditas em língua portuguesa, nas categorias Ficção, Ensaio, Poesia e Peça Teatral. Os prêmios são de R$ 5.000 para o vencedor de cada categoria e as obras vencedoras serão editadas pela Fundação de Cultura Cidade do Recife (FCCR). &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As inscrições devem ser realizadas no Conselho Municipal de Cultura, que fica na Rua das Águas Verdes n°08, Pátio de São Pedro, s/n°, São José - CEP 50010-340 - Recife PE, no horário das 9h às 13h, ou pelo correio, desde que os trabalhos sejam postados dentro do prazo das inscrições.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Para selecionar os vencedores, será composta uma comissão julgadora, formada por três membros indicados pelo Conselho, para cada uma das categorias, que premiará apenas uma obra por gênero e poderá fazer até três menções honrosas. Os resultados do concurso serão divulgados no Diário Oficial do Recife, do dia 30 de janeiro de 2010, e a partir desta data, na internet, pelo &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.recife.pe.gov.br/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;site&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Informações:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Conselho Municipal de Cultura&lt;br /&gt;
Fones: 3232-2032// 2033// 2809&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O regulamento completo pode ser acessado no &lt;strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.recife.pe.gov.br/diariooficial/exibemateria.php?cedicacodi=140&amp;amp;aedicaano=2009&amp;amp;ccadercodi=2&amp;amp;csecaocodi=2&amp;amp;cmatercodi=1&amp;amp;QP=pr%EAmios+liter%E1rios&amp;amp;TP" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="color: purple;"&gt;Diário Oficial do Município&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; da data de 10 de dezembro de 2009.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1355247202672523783-919999416153566549?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/fLYNvph49Jw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/919999416153566549/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/12/concurso-premios-literarios-da-cidade.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/919999416153566549?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/919999416153566549?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/fLYNvph49Jw/concurso-premios-literarios-da-cidade.html" title="Concurso Prêmios Literários da Cidade do Recife" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/12/concurso-premios-literarios-da-cidade.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0UAQHc9fip7ImA9WxBSE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-2187840365073168710</id><published>2009-12-21T04:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T04:40:41.966-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-21T04:40:41.966-08:00</app:edited><title>Cuti, o poeta negro</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1SZHsqAi9uDpOr4zR8besGc98kc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1SZHsqAi9uDpOr4zR8besGc98kc/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/1SZHsqAi9uDpOr4zR8besGc98kc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1SZHsqAi9uDpOr4zR8besGc98kc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/Sy9rE1HQHiI/AAAAAAAADng/gCHft3loM4s/s1600-h/cuti.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/Sy9rE1HQHiI/AAAAAAAADng/gCHft3loM4s/s200/cuti.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.quilombhoje.com.br/ensaio/cuti/TextocriticoErotismoCuti.htm"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Luiz      Silva (Cuti)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;      é escritor, Mestre em Teoria da Literatura e doutorando no Instituto      de Estudos da Linguagem - UNICAMP. Publicou, dentre outros, Flash Crioulo      sobre o Sangue e o Sonho (poemas - 1987) Quizila (contos - 1987), Dois Nós      na Noite (teatro -1991) e Negros em Contos (1996).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Cuti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;, pseudônimo de Luiz Silva, um paulista nascido em Ourinhos, em 1951.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt; é um&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt; dos autores negros mais respeitados da geração surgida no Brasil a partir dos anos 1970&amp;nbsp; Ele diz que a caracterização de uma literatura depende muito do ângulo de visão e do interesse do analista e coloca o foco na subjetividade e na ideologia. "Para mim, literatura negra se identifica pela predominância da experiência subjetiva de ser negro transfigurada em texto", afirma ele.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;SUA OBRA: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Negroesia é uma seleção de poemas, feita pelo autor, constando textos publicados em seus livros e, também, na série Cadernos Negros. A eles foram acrescentados onze poemas inéditos. As seções (Cochicho, Aluvião, Chamego e Axé) não são títulos de obras. Marcam uma aproximação temática dos poemas, correspondendo, respectivamente, a metalinguagem, consciência racial, sensualidade e religião.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;O livro Negroesia é um lançamento da &lt;a href="http://www.mazzaedicoes.com.br/index1.html"&gt;Mazza Edições Ltda&lt;/a&gt;. (31) 3481-0591. Preço R$ 20,00.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt; SEU POEMA:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;O FUTURO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;O futuro está no saco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;o futuro está nas trompas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;o futuro no entanto já está nas ruas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;o futuro das ruas é imediato&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;sente fome e sede&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;frio e falta de afeto e vive no asfalto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;o futuro das ruas verde amendoim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;pede esmolas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;toma conta dos automóveis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;mas não toma leite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;o futuro das ruas anda descalço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;e vira malandro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;o futuro das ruas apanha dos policiais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;se revolta, é preso, é morto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;o futuro das ruas se deteriora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;aos nossos olhos passivos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;e cegos no futuro do saco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;no futuro das trompas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Autor: Cuti, do Livro NEGROESIA - Antologia Poética&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jornalpretexto.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Leia o blog "Jornal Pré-Texto"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1355247202672523783-2187840365073168710?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/uZccC9fZJNs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/2187840365073168710/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/12/cuti-o-poeta-negro.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/2187840365073168710?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/2187840365073168710?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/uZccC9fZJNs/cuti-o-poeta-negro.html" title="Cuti, o poeta negro" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/Sy9rE1HQHiI/AAAAAAAADng/gCHft3loM4s/s72-c/cuti.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/12/cuti-o-poeta-negro.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU8MRHwycSp7ImA9WxBTGUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-8158686260902915264</id><published>2009-12-16T03:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T04:51:25.299-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-16T04:51:25.299-08:00</app:edited><title>Gloria Regina</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/stmZ2mxipOPv6e9bCBLOAooo0i8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/stmZ2mxipOPv6e9bCBLOAooo0i8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/stmZ2mxipOPv6e9bCBLOAooo0i8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/stmZ2mxipOPv6e9bCBLOAooo0i8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="t5" id=":1wh" style="display: none;"&gt;&lt;span id=":1wo" style="display: none;"&gt;♫ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id=":1wp"&gt;&lt;/span&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/_TntIHGfg_0s/SyjIrBG2FII/AAAAAAAADlM/hxuhEIL4UgY/s1600-h/gloria+regina.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/SyjIrBG2FII/AAAAAAAADlM/hxuhEIL4UgY/s200/gloria+regina.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:gloriareggae@hotmail.com"&gt;Gloria Regina&lt;/a&gt;, poeta e cantora. Artista homenageada na &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OoWvwZycpME"&gt;5ª edição do Canta Boa Vista&lt;/a&gt;, realizada no dia 05 de dezembro de 2009, na Rua Sete de Setembro, bairro da Boa Vista, centro do Recife.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;ESTRELAS&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Falta luz nos postes&lt;br /&gt;
e surgem estrelas no céu;&lt;br /&gt;
milhões e mailhares,&lt;br /&gt;
infinitas e lindas.&lt;br /&gt;
Volta a luz nos postes&lt;br /&gt;
somem as estrelas...&lt;br /&gt;
Foi só um instante&lt;br /&gt;
que durou uma eternidade...&lt;br /&gt;
É o preço da civilização.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;GRITO &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
O que motiva o grito&lt;br /&gt;
São coisas que esmagam&lt;br /&gt;
São fatos que machucam&lt;br /&gt;
São atos que estarrecem &lt;br /&gt;
O que sufoca o grito&lt;br /&gt;
São coisas que amedrontam&lt;br /&gt;
São fatos que assustam&lt;br /&gt;
São atos que proíbem &lt;br /&gt;
O que esmaga o grito&lt;br /&gt;
É o mêdo da verdade&lt;br /&gt;
Pavor da consequencia&lt;br /&gt;
até que o grito sufocado&lt;br /&gt;
explode em violência! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
LIBERDADE &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
O poder dita seus ditos&lt;br /&gt;
e fica o dito pelo não dito.&lt;br /&gt;
A arte,&lt;br /&gt;
que dita a voz da liberdade&lt;br /&gt;
tem seu grito&lt;br /&gt;
estrangulado na garganta;&lt;br /&gt;
Tem sua força&lt;br /&gt;
reprimida;&lt;br /&gt;
seus heróis&lt;br /&gt;
torturados.&lt;br /&gt;
Mas a morte não vence a arte&lt;br /&gt;
Como a morte não vence a vida.&lt;br /&gt;
Pois arte é vida&lt;br /&gt;
como vida é arte.&lt;br /&gt;
A repressão,&lt;br /&gt;
não reprime a arte;&lt;br /&gt;
Ela escapa, foge&lt;br /&gt;
se insinua e vence.&lt;br /&gt;
Vence alcançando os povos,&lt;br /&gt;
as nações.&lt;br /&gt;
E seu hino se espalha&lt;br /&gt;
e atinge corações.&lt;br /&gt;
E semeada e colhida&lt;br /&gt;
se propaga sua mensagem,&lt;br /&gt;
se revelam seus segredos.&lt;br /&gt;
E dito pelo não dito&lt;br /&gt;
com toda força da emoção,&lt;br /&gt;
O homem morre&lt;br /&gt;
mas sua arte&lt;br /&gt;
NÃO &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qAjzbtGt4qI"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Confusa &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Escrevo em fracassados enigmas&lt;br /&gt;
deixando óbvio o que tento esconder&lt;br /&gt;
em frases que desmascaram&lt;br /&gt;
minha tentativa&lt;br /&gt;
de escondida&lt;br /&gt;
me mostar.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; E assim me revelo&lt;br /&gt;
no que tento&amp;nbsp; esconder,&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; e assim me escondo&lt;br /&gt;
no que tento&amp;nbsp; revelar! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
09/11/04 &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Desilusão &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Você machucou meu coração&lt;br /&gt;
quando fez o que eu não queria&lt;br /&gt;
me dando aquilo que eu não merecia&lt;br /&gt;
e não me dando a mesma atenção. &lt;br /&gt;
Você iludiu meu coração&lt;br /&gt;
me fez crêr que você me queria&lt;br /&gt;
fiz de ti a minha alegria&lt;br /&gt;
mas voce não quer nossa união &lt;br /&gt;
Deixei falar a minha emoção&lt;br /&gt;
te dei carinho e dedicação&lt;br /&gt;
todo respeito e consideração &lt;br /&gt;
Como retorno fui divertimento&lt;br /&gt;
não respeitou nem o meu sentimento&lt;br /&gt;
plantou a mágoa e o ressentimento.&lt;br /&gt;
04/11/06&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
É bonito &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
É bonito o mar quebrar na areia,&lt;br /&gt;
o ar balançar as flores,&lt;br /&gt;
uma aranha fazer sua teia. &lt;br /&gt;
É bonito a magia das cores,&lt;br /&gt;
é bonito uma estrela no céu,&lt;br /&gt;
o claro cintilar da lua,&lt;br /&gt;
as nuvens passeando ao léu,&lt;br /&gt;
a chuva caindo na rua. &lt;br /&gt;
É bonito um pássaro cantar,&lt;br /&gt;
o colorido e rápido beija-flor,&lt;br /&gt;
o imenso azulão do mar. &lt;br /&gt;
É bonito uma borboleta colorida&lt;br /&gt;
pousada numa janela florida.&lt;br /&gt;
É bonito o olhar de um gatinho inocente&lt;br /&gt;
que nada nesta vida mauda,&lt;br /&gt;
O latido com que um cão alegremente&lt;br /&gt;
nos sauda balançando a calda. &lt;br /&gt;
É bonito um ser querer,&lt;br /&gt;
É bonito um ser lutar,&lt;br /&gt;
É bonito um ser cair&lt;br /&gt;
e saber se levantar.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Elevação decadente &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Se o homem não fosse&lt;br /&gt;
tão precipitado&lt;br /&gt;
estaria preparado&lt;br /&gt;
prá não cair no abismo&lt;br /&gt;
que caiu.&lt;br /&gt;
Projetando suas cidades&lt;br /&gt;
projetadas ou não,&lt;br /&gt;
destruindo a natureza&lt;br /&gt;
criando a poluiçao.&lt;br /&gt;
É progresso,evolução,&lt;br /&gt;
passo para o sucesso,&lt;br /&gt;
para a elevação.&lt;br /&gt;
Mas&lt;br /&gt;
maior que o crescimento material&lt;br /&gt;
é a decadência moral...&lt;br /&gt;
Vai construindo suas babéis&lt;br /&gt;
tentando chegar ao cume&lt;br /&gt;
de um monte que não conhece.&lt;br /&gt;
Mas ele desaba pela discórdia&lt;br /&gt;
pela gana material...&lt;br /&gt;
e nasce a falsa moral.&lt;br /&gt;
E à medida que sobe&lt;br /&gt;
desce&lt;br /&gt;
e ainda se sente contente!!!&lt;br /&gt;
É a verdadeira&lt;br /&gt;
elevação&lt;br /&gt;
decadente.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1355247202672523783-8158686260902915264?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/3o7KmMO5hx4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/8158686260902915264/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/12/gloria-regina.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/8158686260902915264?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/8158686260902915264?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/3o7KmMO5hx4/gloria-regina.html" title="Gloria Regina" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/SyjIrBG2FII/AAAAAAAADlM/hxuhEIL4UgY/s72-c/gloria+regina.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/12/gloria-regina.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEMARngzeip7ImA9WxBTGE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-665785902252960695</id><published>2009-12-14T06:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T06:54:07.682-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-14T06:54:07.682-08:00</app:edited><title>Nilo Pereira: 100 anos</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GrVSRGKg7REQJH9UPKd7DUjhdYI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GrVSRGKg7REQJH9UPKd7DUjhdYI/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/GrVSRGKg7REQJH9UPKd7DUjhdYI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/GrVSRGKg7REQJH9UPKd7DUjhdYI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/SyZQPdBY1yI/AAAAAAAADk0/ElcWYgV5GI0/s1600-h/NiloPereira.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/SyZQPdBY1yI/AAAAAAAADk0/ElcWYgV5GI0/s320/NiloPereira.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Amo este Recife velho e novo,&lt;br /&gt;
na perspectiva criadora do tempo (...)&lt;br /&gt;
Cidades de estudantes, de&lt;br /&gt;
professores, de políticos, de líderes,&lt;br /&gt;
de inconformados, de conservadores,&lt;br /&gt;
sempre magra e esguia, é preciso&lt;br /&gt;
tempo,engenho e arte para conquistá-la."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
(Nilo Pereira em seu lado humanista, fez uma declaração de&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;amor para o Recife.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Nascido em 1909, na cidade do Ceará - Mirim, no Rio Grande do Norte, &lt;a href="http://www.fundaj.gov.br/docs/nilo/nilo.html"&gt;Nilo Pereira&lt;/a&gt; veio para o Recife onde se radicou. Trabalhou durante quarenta nos no Jornal do Commercio, onde publicou a coluna "Notas avulsas" regularmente.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Em sua vida literária publicou mais de 50 títulos dentre livros e&amp;nbsp; plaquetes, no campo da literatura, da ensaística, da poesia e do&amp;nbsp; romance.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Nilo Pereira teve uma extensa vida intelectual, avultada nas aulas&amp;nbsp; ministradas, nas conferências proferidas, nas bancas examinadoras na&amp;nbsp; Universidade Federal de Pernambuco que teve como catedrático de&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
História Universal, e foi um dos fundadores da Faculdade de direito da&amp;nbsp; Universidade Católica de Pernambuco. Nilo faleceu em 1992.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jornalpretexto.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Leia o blog "Jornal Pre-Texto"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&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/1355247202672523783-665785902252960695?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/N51hv9OdTnI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/665785902252960695/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/12/nilo-pereira-100-anos.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/665785902252960695?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/665785902252960695?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/N51hv9OdTnI/nilo-pereira-100-anos.html" title="Nilo Pereira: 100 anos" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/SyZQPdBY1yI/AAAAAAAADk0/ElcWYgV5GI0/s72-c/NiloPereira.gif" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/12/nilo-pereira-100-anos.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkACRns-eCp7ImA9WxBTGE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-4765746954252419832</id><published>2009-12-14T06:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T06:26:07.550-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-14T06:26:07.550-08:00</app:edited><title>15, Terça, Lançamento "Poesia Presente"</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vSOXygN1190pT8EJ3ZWG04p8BFM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vSOXygN1190pT8EJ3ZWG04p8BFM/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/vSOXygN1190pT8EJ3ZWG04p8BFM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/vSOXygN1190pT8EJ3ZWG04p8BFM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.plataforma.paraapoesia.nom.br/2009dez_convite_pcr.html" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="282" src="http://www.plataforma.paraapoesia.nom.br/09dez_convite_pcr/convite_small.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/1355247202672523783-4765746954252419832?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/JmWmjbL0uqg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/4765746954252419832/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/12/15-terca-lancamento-poesia-presente.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/4765746954252419832?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/4765746954252419832?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/JmWmjbL0uqg/15-terca-lancamento-poesia-presente.html" title="15, Terça, Lançamento &quot;Poesia Presente&quot;" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/12/15-terca-lancamento-poesia-presente.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkAAQns5cCp7ImA9WxBTE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-272469547888299443</id><published>2009-12-09T03:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T03:39:03.528-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-09T03:39:03.528-08:00</app:edited><title>Geração 65</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rekVHdkgvp6hdlHSvo1UnJ8gAbc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rekVHdkgvp6hdlHSvo1UnJ8gAbc/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/rekVHdkgvp6hdlHSvo1UnJ8gAbc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rekVHdkgvp6hdlHSvo1UnJ8gAbc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/Sx-L9M04QNI/AAAAAAAADkg/R34MKgXP0nQ/s1600-h/rec15.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/Sx-L9M04QNI/AAAAAAAADkg/R34MKgXP0nQ/s320/rec15.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;"O Recife é uma grande cidade,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;bela e pobre, que traduz em sua vida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;a própria vida do Nordeste.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;E nós a amamos assim como ela é.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Cantamos a sua beleza e desculpamos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;os seus defeitos. E com o poeta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.biblio.com.br/defaultz.asp?link=http://www.biblio.com.br/conteudo/biografias/ledoivo.htm"&gt;Ledo Ivo&lt;/a&gt; lhe dizemos este madrigal:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;A mar cidades só uma - Recife.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;E assim mesmo com o vento amplo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;[do Atlântico&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;E o sol do Nordeste entre as mãos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;(do livro Roteiros do Recife - Olinda Guararapes, 1966)"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&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/1355247202672523783-272469547888299443?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/JQKskPalIPw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/272469547888299443/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/12/geracao-65.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/272469547888299443?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/272469547888299443?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/JQKskPalIPw/geracao-65.html" title="Geração 65" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/Sx-L9M04QNI/AAAAAAAADkg/R34MKgXP0nQ/s72-c/rec15.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/12/geracao-65.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUMQ3Yzeip7ImA9WxBTE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-7268326514614976407</id><published>2009-12-09T02:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T02:24:42.882-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-09T02:24:42.882-08:00</app:edited><title>Antônio Luiz M. Andrade, poeta do mês</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7kTB0NWR6dmlvWqskt3x97jskOs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7kTB0NWR6dmlvWqskt3x97jskOs/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/7kTB0NWR6dmlvWqskt3x97jskOs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7kTB0NWR6dmlvWqskt3x97jskOs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;b&gt;ALMANDRADE&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Natal&lt;/b&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Uma voz nua&lt;br /&gt;
canta o sentimento&lt;br /&gt;
conversa de natal&lt;br /&gt;
a solidão&lt;br /&gt;
nos contempla&lt;br /&gt;
somos habitados&lt;br /&gt;
pela música&lt;br /&gt;
da noite.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;---------------------------&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Noite de Natal&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Atrás da canção&lt;br /&gt;
uma grande lua&lt;br /&gt;
a estrela da festa&lt;br /&gt;
sinos da madrugada&lt;br /&gt;
que ninguém mais&lt;br /&gt;
escuta&lt;br /&gt;
despertam&lt;br /&gt;
lembranças distantes.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;-----------------------------&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Uma foto do Natal&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No ar&lt;br /&gt;
a coreografia&lt;br /&gt;
de uma flauta&lt;br /&gt;
antigas velas&lt;br /&gt;
ainda acesas&lt;br /&gt;
velhas ceias&lt;br /&gt;
em preto e branco&lt;br /&gt;
esperando&lt;br /&gt;
a madrugada&lt;br /&gt;
e a festa&lt;br /&gt;
...&lt;br /&gt;
O natal se arrasta&lt;br /&gt;
Lentamente.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="ii gt" id=":2bm"&gt;&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;/wbr&gt;------------------------------&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;/wbr&gt;--------------------&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.provadoartista.com.br/almandrade.html" target="_blank"&gt;www.provadoartista.com.br/&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;/wbr&gt;almandrade.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;------------------------------&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;/wbr&gt;------------------------------&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;/wbr&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.expoart.com.br/almandrade" target="_blank"&gt;www.expoart.com.br/almandrade&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/Sx96swoZbhI/AAAAAAAADkI/Y-YusAssdfI/s1600-h/Almandrade+03+086.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/Sx96swoZbhI/AAAAAAAADkI/Y-YusAssdfI/s200/Almandrade+03+086.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;Almandrade, por Antônio Luiz M. Andrade: &amp;nbsp;É arquiteto, poeta e artista&lt;br /&gt;
plástico baiano.. Como artista plástico já participou de quatro&lt;br /&gt;
bienais internacionais em São Paulo, além de várias outras exposições&lt;br /&gt;
no país e no exterior. Editou em 74 a revista "Semiótica" e, seus&lt;br /&gt;
poemas procuram dar às palavras intensidade plástica, forma. Publicou&lt;br /&gt;
os livros "O Sacrifício dos Sentidos", "Obscuridade do Riso",&lt;br /&gt;
"Poemas", "Suor Noturno," "Arquitetura de Algodão". É um dos grandes&lt;br /&gt;
nomes brasileiros do poema visual. Saiba mais no endereço eletrônico:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.antoniomiranda.com.br/poesia_visual/almandrade.html" target="_blank"&gt;http://www.antoniomiranda.com.&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;/wbr&gt;br/poesia_visual/almandrade.&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;/wbr&gt;html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ii gt" id=":2bm"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
poemas - Almandrade&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Fascinação de cristal&lt;br /&gt;
toca em mim&lt;br /&gt;
traduz uma delicadeza&lt;br /&gt;
e uma incerteza&lt;br /&gt;
ilha vazia&lt;br /&gt;
maternal&lt;br /&gt;
escondida&lt;br /&gt;
em seus próprios&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;tesouros&lt;br /&gt;
a &amp;nbsp;fuga é incapaz&lt;br /&gt;
rasga um caminho&lt;br /&gt;
a falta&lt;br /&gt;
derrama sua graça.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="ii gt" id=":2a6"&gt;&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;/wbr&gt;---------&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PARADOXO&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
O infinito reclina&lt;br /&gt;
e adormece&lt;br /&gt;
na solidão dos enigmas.&lt;br /&gt;
As manias gregas&lt;br /&gt;
O mármore das imagens.&lt;br /&gt;
Mitos e estátuas&lt;br /&gt;
que desafiam&lt;br /&gt;
o vazio e o abstrato.&lt;br /&gt;
Verdades,&lt;br /&gt;
dúvidas de ninguém.&lt;br /&gt;
------------------------------&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;/wbr&gt;-------&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A &amp;nbsp;JANELA &amp;nbsp;E &amp;nbsp;A &amp;nbsp;FANTASIA&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No pequeno cômodo&lt;br /&gt;
através da vidraça&lt;br /&gt;
a paisagem entra&lt;br /&gt;
fragmentada&lt;br /&gt;
no pincel de Magritte.&lt;br /&gt;
Do outro lado&lt;br /&gt;
das paredes&lt;br /&gt;
a realidade vai até onde&lt;br /&gt;
a imaginação alcança.&lt;br /&gt;
O &amp;nbsp;tempo&lt;br /&gt;
o olhar inventa.&lt;br /&gt;
------------------------------&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;/wbr&gt;----------------------&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
O &amp;nbsp;ANIVERSÁRIO &amp;nbsp;DA &amp;nbsp;PINTURA&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No retângulo da esquadria&lt;br /&gt;
descansa&lt;br /&gt;
a velha paisagem renascentista.&lt;br /&gt;
A cada novo olhar&lt;br /&gt;
uma provocação&lt;br /&gt;
canta a imaginação&lt;br /&gt;
uma janela para o passado&lt;br /&gt;
que contempla o futuro.&lt;br /&gt;
Exatidão de cálculos e&lt;br /&gt;
sedução de metáforas&lt;br /&gt;
celebram&lt;br /&gt;
o nascimento da pintura.&lt;br /&gt;
------------------------------&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;/wbr&gt;--------------&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A MULHER&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Uma geografia&lt;br /&gt;
sempre a ser descoberta&lt;br /&gt;
obscura e secreta&lt;br /&gt;
como a solidão.&lt;br /&gt;
...&lt;br /&gt;
Em silêncio&lt;br /&gt;
a intimidade feminina&lt;br /&gt;
acende o mistério&lt;br /&gt;
que faz lembrar&lt;br /&gt;
o aroma dos devaneios&lt;br /&gt;
que transporta&lt;br /&gt;
o fim da tarde.&lt;br /&gt;
------------------------------&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;/wbr&gt;----------------&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ii gt" id=":2bm" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jornalpretexto.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Leia o blog: "Jornal Pré-Texto"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="ii gt" id=":2bm"&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/1355247202672523783-7268326514614976407?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/IFQp0_PQ56k" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/7268326514614976407/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/12/antonio-luiz-m-andrade-poeta-do-mes.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/7268326514614976407?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/7268326514614976407?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/IFQp0_PQ56k/antonio-luiz-m-andrade-poeta-do-mes.html" title="Antônio Luiz M. Andrade, poeta do mês" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/Sx96swoZbhI/AAAAAAAADkI/Y-YusAssdfI/s72-c/Almandrade+03+086.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/12/antonio-luiz-m-andrade-poeta-do-mes.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUAMQ3c8cCp7ImA9WxBTEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-7292629743314668077</id><published>2009-12-07T03:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T06:56:22.978-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-07T06:56:22.978-08:00</app:edited><title>Tupi or not tupi &gt; Di Cavalcanti</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CibEwWaKMDWhvfJkmYobi1Cib2w/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CibEwWaKMDWhvfJkmYobi1Cib2w/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/CibEwWaKMDWhvfJkmYobi1Cib2w/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CibEwWaKMDWhvfJkmYobi1Cib2w/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 1em 0pt 3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedproxy.google.com/%7Er/imaginariopoetico/%7E3/r2MEwAJ_2dk/tupi-or-not-tupi-di-cavalcanti.html?utm_source=feedburner&amp;amp;utm_medium=email" name="1255a48ef98e15aa_2" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 18px;" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #555555; font-family: Georgia,Helvetica,Arial,Sans-Serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 140%; margin: 9px 0pt 3px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="clear: left; float: left; font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_23Gp25viCPE/SxkZRmXrBrI/AAAAAAAAFCQ/X1-ecayTdjY/s320/di+cavalcanti.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;"&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Moço continuarei até a morte porque, além dos bens que obtenho com minha imaginação, nada mais ambiciono&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;" - A mulata, para mim, é um símbolo do Brasil.&lt;br /&gt;
Ela não é preta nem branca.&lt;br /&gt;
Nem rica nem pobre.&lt;br /&gt;
Gosta de música, gosta do futebol, como nosso povo." &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
"&lt;i&gt;No carnaval eu sempre senti em mim a presença de um demônio incubo que se desvendava como um monstro, feliz por suas travessuras inenarráveis. É uma das formas de meu carioquismo irremediável e eu me sinto demasiadamente povo nesses dias de desafogo dos sentimentos mais terrivelmente terrenos de meu ser...&lt;/i&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"&lt;i&gt;A exposição de Anita Malfatti em 1917 foi a revelação de algo mais novo do que o impressionismo, mas Anita vinha de fora, seu modernismo, como o de Brecheret e Lasar Segall, tinha o selo da convivência com Paris, Roma e Berlim. Meu modernismo coloria-se do anarquismo cultural brasileiro e, se ainda claudicava, possuía o Dom de nascer com os erros, a inexperiência e o lirismo brasileiros&lt;/i&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"&lt;i&gt;Paris pôs uma marca na minha inteligência. Foi como criar em mim uma nova natureza e o meu amor à Europa transformou meu amor à vida em amor a tudo que é civilizado. E como civilizado comecei a conhecer a minha terra&lt;/i&gt;."&lt;/span&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;FONTE:&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dicavalcanti.com.br/" target="_blank"&gt;www.dicavalcanti.com.&lt;wbr&gt;&lt;/wbr&gt;br/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Poema &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Uma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Flor para Di Cavalcanti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;de Carlos Drummond de Andrade para Di Cavalcanti:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Esta é uma flor para Di,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;uma flor em forma di-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;ferente: de flor-mulher,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;desabrochada onde quer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;que exista amor e verão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Verão como a cor cinti-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;la nas curvas, e sorri&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;nesse púrpuro arrebol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;que Di tirou do seu Rio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;coado de mel e sol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;Uma flor-pintura, zi-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;nindo o canto de amor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;que acompanhou toda a vi-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;da do pincel, o gozo-dor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;de criar e de sentir, di-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;vina e tão sensual ração&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;que coube, na Terra, a Di.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;ANDRADE, Carlos Drummond de. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;Poesia e prosa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;. Rio de Janeiro: Nova Aguilar, 1979.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;h3 class="post-title entry-title"&gt; Só uma rosa &lt;/h3&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt; Retirada do ramalhete&lt;br /&gt;
uma rosa é só uma rosa.&lt;br /&gt;
E a solidão é maior,&lt;br /&gt;
e cresce ao se afastarem...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Uma rosa solitária&lt;br /&gt;
é só uma rosa afastada&lt;br /&gt;
cheia de solidão e saudade,&lt;br /&gt;
e cheia de uma certeza:&lt;br /&gt;
- jamais&lt;br /&gt;
será buquê de novo!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="post-author vcard"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="post-author vcard"&gt;&lt;span class="fn"&gt;GERFERSON NEFTALI&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1355247202672523783-7292629743314668077?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/RCiwslpy9jY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/7292629743314668077/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/12/tupi-or-not-tupi-di-cavalcanti.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/7292629743314668077?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/7292629743314668077?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/RCiwslpy9jY/tupi-or-not-tupi-di-cavalcanti.html" title="Tupi or not tupi &gt; Di Cavalcanti" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_23Gp25viCPE/SxkZRmXrBrI/AAAAAAAAFCQ/X1-ecayTdjY/s72-c/di+cavalcanti.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/12/tupi-or-not-tupi-di-cavalcanti.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UBQXc8cCp7ImA9WxNaF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-4381579742656943328</id><published>2009-12-02T04:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T04:00:50.978-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-02T04:00:50.978-08:00</app:edited><title>Poesia Seleta</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YKUaic8GcFEM075Elhdxz8sQ82o/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YKUaic8GcFEM075Elhdxz8sQ82o/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/YKUaic8GcFEM075Elhdxz8sQ82o/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YKUaic8GcFEM075Elhdxz8sQ82o/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;O Instituto Histórico do Jaboatão dos Guararapes convida a todos para o lançamento da coletânea de &lt;b&gt;Benedito Cunha Melo&lt;/b&gt;, &lt;b&gt;Poesia Seleta&lt;/b&gt;, organizada por&lt;b&gt; Alberto da Cunha Melo&lt;/b&gt;, com apresentação de &lt;b&gt;Pe. Reginaldo Veloso&lt;/b&gt; que se fará presente.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;O evento contará com uma &lt;b&gt;Cantata Natalina&lt;/b&gt; pelos &lt;b&gt;Meninos do Oratório Dom Bosco&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;Data: 18 (sexta-feira) dezembro de 2009&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;Hora: 19h30&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;Local: Rua Desembargador Henrique Capitulino, 65 - Jaboatão dos Guararapes - PE (antiga Cadeia Pública do Munícipio)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: Monotype Corsiva; font-size: large;"&gt;   &lt;img align="left" alt="Lançamento! Em breve!" border="0" height="320" src="http://www.plataforma.paraapoesia.nom.br/capa2009curvas9.gif" width="216" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify" style="color: black; margin-left: 25px; margin-right: 25px;"&gt;   BENEDITO Tavares da CUNHA MELO nasceu no município pernambucano de Goiana, a 25 de março de 1911, filho do tabelião e poeta Alberto Tavares da Cunha Melo e Virgínia Tavares de Miranda Lins. Pelo seu pendor poético sempre ligado à sua região, recebeu o título de Cidadão Jaboatonense, através do Projeto de Lei elaborado pela Câmara Municipal de Jaboatão.&lt;br /&gt;
Benedito Cunha Melo, além da poesia, cultivava o jornalismo, sendo fundador e redator-chefe do Jaboatão Jornal, periódico mensal criado em 1950, onde por mais de 20 anos manteve uma coluna de trovas intitulada Trovas e Trovoadas, com textos predominantemente satíricos.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify" style="color: black; margin-left: 25px; margin-right: 25px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
O poeta Benedito Cunha Melo foi o autor do “Hino de Jaboatão”, recebendo música de Nina de Oliveira, e autor do “Hino do Padroeiro Santo Amaro”, com música do padre Chromácio Leão. No bairro jaboatonense de Barra de Jangada, há um colégio estadual com o seu nome, homenagem sugerida por requerimento parlamentar do então deputado José Luiz de Almeida Melo. Por se tratar de um homem ligado à cultura literária, a Biblioteca Municipal também possui o seu nome. Embora nascido fora daquele município, fixou residência em Jaboatão em 1924, onde conquistou fortes amizades. Teve sete filhos: Alberto, Maria das Graças, Margarida Maria, João Bosco, Sebastião Tarcísio, Francisco e Madalena Maria.&lt;br /&gt;
Benedito Cunha Melo faleceu em Jaboatão, no dia 6 de outubro de 1981, aos 70 anos de idade.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;OBRAS:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Folhas Secas (trovas), 1939&lt;br /&gt;
Versos Diversos (sonetos e trovas), 1948&lt;br /&gt;
Nuvens de Pó (sonetos e trovas), 1949&lt;br /&gt;
Da Morte, Folhas Secas e Outras Trovas, 1954&lt;br /&gt;
Perfis (trovas satíricas), 1954&lt;br /&gt;
Trovas e Trovoadas (em co-autoria), 1962&lt;br /&gt;
Canto de Cisne (trovas), 1980&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/1355247202672523783-4381579742656943328?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/mVMw64uCsJc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/4381579742656943328/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/12/poesia-seleta.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/4381579742656943328?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/4381579742656943328?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/mVMw64uCsJc/poesia-seleta.html" title="Poesia Seleta" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/12/poesia-seleta.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkACRno5cCp7ImA9WxNaFUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-8794230379646946750</id><published>2009-11-30T02:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T02:59:27.428-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-30T02:59:27.428-08:00</app:edited><title>GERAÇÃO 65:</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pVmXhIt2HQKoix9GZWCmEOrSxgQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pVmXhIt2HQKoix9GZWCmEOrSxgQ/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/pVmXhIt2HQKoix9GZWCmEOrSxgQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/pVmXhIt2HQKoix9GZWCmEOrSxgQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mudando a história da produção literária recifense&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/SxOfb7VvmTI/AAAAAAAADio/d6UEKx8yG5o/s1600/geracao65.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/SxOfb7VvmTI/AAAAAAAADio/d6UEKx8yG5o/s320/geracao65.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;A paisagem do Recife sempre serviu de palco de inspiração para os artistas. Isso acontece há mais de quatro séculos. Muitos dos escritores se deixaram contagiar pelo cenário exuberante da cidade do Recife. Essa safra de escritores surgiu na déc ada de 60, renovando a tradição literária recifense.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Em meio ao ambiente hostil e opressivo da ditadura de um regime militar, que se instalou no Brasil em 1964, surgiram versos líricos e políticos de poetas que expressavam suas mágoas, sentados nas mesas dos bares da cidade, entre um traço e outro de estrofes de um verso, bebiam goles de chopp.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Esses poetas, unidos pela literatura, deram origem à chamada "Geração 65", e ao movimento das Edições Pirata, que chegou a publicar na época mais de trezentos livros.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;GERAÇÃO 65&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Grupo formado em Jaboatão, PE, 1964. Seus membros Alberto da C. Merlo, Domingos Alexandre, José L. A. de Melo e Jaci Bezerra se reuniam em função da produção poética que cada um desenvolvia. Denominou-se inicialmente"Grupo de Jaboatão" , passando a ser conhecido, por sugestão do historiador Tadeu Rocha, no Recife, como Geração 65. Fundaram o Movimento Pirata e as edições do mesmo nome, mantgendo a marca Geração 65.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Fonte: Enciclopédia de Literatura Brasileira, de Afrânio Coutinho e J. Galente Souza, Global, 2001.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;____________________________________________________________&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;OS &lt;/span&gt;MENDIGOS&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Os mendigos adormecem&lt;br /&gt;
na calada da noite&lt;br /&gt;
alimentados pelos restos&lt;br /&gt;
da sociedade de consumo,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
aspiram cheiros de esgotos, cola e escrementos.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Estão em todas as esquinas&lt;br /&gt;
desprovidos de pudores&lt;br /&gt;
com a alma desnuda de&lt;br /&gt;
desejos e sentimentos.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Já não sonham mais&lt;br /&gt;
os mendigos desfalecem&lt;br /&gt;
na calada da noite.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Jacytan Melo, poeta, músico e produtor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
DO EXERCÍCIO DE ESCREVER&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dedos presos no teclado&lt;br /&gt;
cabeça ainda vazia&lt;br /&gt;
coração cheio de amores&lt;br /&gt;
não correspondido.&lt;br /&gt;
Aos poucos os dedos deslizam&lt;br /&gt;
num movimento autômato,&lt;br /&gt;
ensaiando algumas palavras,&lt;br /&gt;
alumas linhas de um poema.&lt;br /&gt;
Já é madrugada, poucas palavras&lt;br /&gt;
são escritas, porém,&lt;br /&gt;
carregadas de emoç~]ao.&lt;br /&gt;
Chego a temer,&lt;br /&gt;
o esforço dos dedos no teclado&lt;br /&gt;
possa perturbar&lt;br /&gt;
o silêncio da noite.&lt;br /&gt;
O dia amanhece,&lt;br /&gt;
mal percebo o amanhecer,&lt;br /&gt;
devido a longa batalha noturna:&lt;br /&gt;
o exercício de escreve poema.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Jacytan Melo, poeta, músico e produtor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1355247202672523783-8794230379646946750?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/AUEYXiT6iGY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/8794230379646946750/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/11/geracao-65.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/8794230379646946750?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/8794230379646946750?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/AUEYXiT6iGY/geracao-65.html" title="GERAÇÃO 65:" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/SxOfb7VvmTI/AAAAAAAADio/d6UEKx8yG5o/s72-c/geracao65.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/11/geracao-65.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkEFQXk4eSp7ImA9WxNaFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-1968422400717804666</id><published>2009-11-28T04:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-28T04:16:50.731-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-28T04:16:50.731-08:00</app:edited><title>CAFÉ CULTURAL</title><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/T8cdgGWkC4RTotQKFmbdOvELe7Q/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/T8cdgGWkC4RTotQKFmbdOvELe7Q/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/T8cdgGWkC4RTotQKFmbdOvELe7Q/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/T8cdgGWkC4RTotQKFmbdOvELe7Q/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O livro e seu futuro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A produção literária, a distribuição e o consumo de livros serviram de tema para discussões,&amp;nbsp;dia 27 de novembro, no "&lt;a href="http://www.bienalpernambuco.com/cafe-cultural-da-fafire-discute-impactos-da-bienal-do-livro"&gt;VII Café Cultural da Fafire&lt;/a&gt;" (Av. Conde da Boa Vista, Recife - PE) que teve como tema "Editoração em Pernambuco: dificuldades, avanços e perspectivas". Os convidados foram o jornalista e escritor Samarone Lima; com o crítico e editor das revistas &lt;a href="http://revistacrispim.com/blog/blog.php"&gt;Crispim e Eita!,&lt;/a&gt; Cristhiano Aguiar e a editora da Continente Multicultural Adriana Dória. O evento foi aberto ao público.&lt;br /&gt;
___________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;(SOBRE)VIVI&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Fecundação,&lt;br /&gt;
feto,&lt;br /&gt;
1, 2, 3 ... 10, 15, 20, 26 ...&lt;br /&gt;
56&lt;br /&gt;
Será que vivi,&lt;br /&gt;
ou sobrevivi, não sei.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Jacytan Melo, poesta, músico e produtor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;CONJUGAR&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Eu minto, &lt;br /&gt;
tu mentes,&lt;br /&gt;
ele mente,&lt;br /&gt;
nos mentimos,&lt;br /&gt;
sobrevivemos.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Jacytan Melo,poeta, músico e produtor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;TIRANIA&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Todo tirano&lt;br /&gt;
tem em seu &lt;br /&gt;
caminho&lt;br /&gt;
uma bala perdida&lt;br /&gt;
(bem vinda)&lt;br /&gt;
que lhe tira&lt;br /&gt;
avida,&lt;br /&gt;
derruba-o do poder.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Jacytan Melo, poeta, músico e produtor&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1355247202672523783-1968422400717804666?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/OqsS2y_AAow" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/1968422400717804666/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/11/cafe-cultural.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/1968422400717804666?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/1968422400717804666?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/OqsS2y_AAow/cafe-cultural.html" title="CAFÉ CULTURAL" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/11/cafe-cultural.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQNSHc-fip7ImA9WxNaE08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1355247202672523783.post-8667617074120439462</id><published>2009-11-27T04:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T05:09:59.956-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-27T05:09:59.956-08:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JZxbSMwRSCY0K_jLM4UkQrNdMA4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JZxbSMwRSCY0K_jLM4UkQrNdMA4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JZxbSMwRSCY0K_jLM4UkQrNdMA4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JZxbSMwRSCY0K_jLM4UkQrNdMA4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Marcus Accioly e seus 40 anos de poesia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/Sw_Oo-BrEfI/AAAAAAAADig/JfoJ2v7orLc/s1600/accioly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/Sw_Oo-BrEfI/AAAAAAAADig/JfoJ2v7orLc/s200/accioly.jpg" yr="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.antoniomiranda.com.br/poesia_brasis/pernambuco/marcus_accioly.html"&gt;Accioly&lt;/a&gt; completa 40 anos de poesia. Com 14 livros publicados o autor faz uma volta ao passado, e traz para os leitores a segunda edição do seu livro de estréia "&lt;a href="http://www.millarch.org/artigo/nordestinados-um-album-fotografico"&gt;Cancioneiro&lt;/a&gt;", que foi lançada dois anos depois do autor se firmar como&amp;nbsp; um dos expoentes da &lt;a href="http://www.interpoetica.com/livro7_geracao65.htm"&gt;Geração 65&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
O livro traz um longo texto de Marcus Accioly passando em revista sua carreira, enfocando os primeiros anos de sua carreira como escritor.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
O lançamento da segunda edição de Cancioneiro, de Marcus Accioly, aconteceu no dia 26 de novembro no Auditório do Conselho Estadual de Cultura (Av. Barbosa Lima, 813 - Boa Vista, Recife - PE)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;Café com Poesia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
O Projeto Café com Poesia encerrou as atividades de 2009,&amp;nbsp;com uma homenagem ao Dia Estadual do Cordelista, comemorado em 19 de novembro. A data foi criada a partir de um projeto de lei de autoria do deputado Antônio Moraes (PSDB). Na ocasião, o parlamentar ressaltou “a importância do artista na construção da identidade do povo pernambucano”. O presidente da União dos Cordelistas de Pernambuco (Unicordel), José Honório da Silva, e o diretor-executivo, Felipe Júnior, além de estudantes das Escolas Oscar Carneiro, Sílvio Rabelo e da Academia Cristã de Boa Viagem também prestigiaram o evento. O Café com Poesia é promovido pela Biblioteca da Assembleia Legislativa, na última quinta-feira de cada mês. A próxima edição está prevista para março de 2010, com uma homenagem ao Dia Internacional da Mulher.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
_______________________________________________ &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;MAR&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Vi o mar&lt;br /&gt;
parei, sentei, admirei&lt;br /&gt;
era uma imensidão &lt;br /&gt;
de águas profundas.&lt;br /&gt;
Por um instante&lt;br /&gt;
senti-me só, imponente&lt;br /&gt;
tive medo diante&lt;br /&gt;
daquela imensidão de mar.&lt;br /&gt;
que não tinha fim.&lt;br /&gt;
Passa minutos, passa horas&lt;br /&gt;
e eu ali prostado&lt;br /&gt;
sem nenhuma reação.&lt;br /&gt;
Parado, sentado, admirando&lt;br /&gt;
a imensidão do mar.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Jacytan Melo, poeta, músico e produtor&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;ROTINA&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Amanhece o dia&lt;br /&gt;
corpo cansado&lt;br /&gt;
noite mal-dormida,&lt;br /&gt;
café expresso&lt;br /&gt;
ônibus lotado,&lt;br /&gt;
chefe arretado,&lt;br /&gt;
cartão estourado,&lt;br /&gt;
cheque devolvido,&lt;br /&gt;
salário atrasado.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Jacytan Melo, poeta, músico e produtor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;strong&gt;RELÓGIO&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Um relógio&lt;br /&gt;
e o seu tic-tac&lt;br /&gt;
na sala do necrotério.&lt;br /&gt;
Barulho incômodo&lt;br /&gt;
pra quem tá vivo&lt;br /&gt;
peça inútil&lt;br /&gt;
pra quem tá morto.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Jacytan Melo, poeta, músico e produtor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1355247202672523783-8667617074120439462?l=poesianocelular.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~4/A0nC6OvNYA0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/feeds/8667617074120439462/comments/default" title="Postar comentários" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/11/marcus-accioly-e-seus-40-anos-de-poesia.html#comment-form" title="0 Comentários" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/8667617074120439462?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1355247202672523783/posts/default/8667617074120439462?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/PoesiaNoCelular/~3/A0nC6OvNYA0/marcus-accioly-e-seus-40-anos-de-poesia.html" title="" /><author><name>Jacytan Melo</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/103041211385495314273</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="32" src="//lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cxO32zDpi6k/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAHQg/i6GHTVnHvms/s512-c/photo.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_TntIHGfg_0s/Sw_Oo-BrEfI/AAAAAAAADig/JfoJ2v7orLc/s72-c/accioly.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://poesianocelular.blogspot.com/2009/11/marcus-accioly-e-seus-40-anos-de-poesia.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

