<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406</id><updated>2024-09-07T00:03:17.571-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleep Walk</title><subtitle type='html'>Textos e poesias para aqueles que preferem pensar a viver...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>41</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-1666114496164792850</id><published>2013-08-10T04:54:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2013-08-10T04:55:34.236-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Liberdade</title><summary type="text">
A liberdade só serve

para aqueles que sabem

o que fazer com ela.

Boa parte das pessoas

aprendeu a amar

suas correntes..



Nasci selvagem

Cresci assim

E nada me irá amarrar

A não ser a liberdade.




Eu
</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/1666114496164792850/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/1666114496164792850' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/1666114496164792850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/1666114496164792850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2013/08/liberdade.html' title='Liberdade'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-1681809358630098803</id><published>2013-05-31T13:12:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2013-05-31T13:12:20.632-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sangrando</title><summary type="text">
Estou sangrando

minha vida escorrendo.

Nessa via correndo

respingos por toda parte.

Paredes rubras como eu

Poças caídas

Restos de mim

Cicatrizes em minha alma

que jamais fecharão

Feridas abertas

transbordando sangue

Um mundo vermelho

sem dor ou sentido

É vida cravando cruzes

transpassando meu corpo

Não me resta muito

além dessas poças de sangue

Desejos perdidos

esquecidos num </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/1681809358630098803/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/1681809358630098803' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/1681809358630098803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/1681809358630098803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2013/05/sangrando.html' title='Sangrando'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-972434343808778932</id><published>2013-05-12T16:27:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2013-05-12T16:39:16.914-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Um livro em branco</title><summary type="text">

Posso continuar a estória agora, 

sem você eu sou apenas um livro em branco 

com uma caneta na mão. 

Sem você eu não tenho uma estória, 

apenas os meios e um livro em branco.

Não tendo assim o que dizer. 

além de uma vida alva.

E a aventura da vida

não pode ser induzida.

Afinal,

O momento nasce espontâneo

ao acaso de nossos sentimentos.

Eles colorem as folhas 

criando assim uma </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/972434343808778932/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/972434343808778932' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/972434343808778932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/972434343808778932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2013/05/um-livro-em-branco.html' title='Um livro em branco'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-576404783431014564</id><published>2013-05-12T16:20:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2013-05-12T16:21:35.061-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ter Asas</title><summary type="text">

Eu não posso voar

Afinal nunca tive asas.

Quem disse 

que preciso de asas para voar?

Para voar basta querer

e ter imaginação.

Para voar 

Basta ter pouca noção do perigo

Insensatez e pouco juízo.

E quanto mais alto for o voo

distante fica o perigo.

Sem essa noção

voar é fácil.

E sem juízo tudo é distante

até voar parece ser fácil.

Mesmo sem ter as tais asas!

Afinal nunca serei </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/576404783431014564/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/576404783431014564' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/576404783431014564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/576404783431014564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2013/05/ter-asas.html' title='Ter Asas'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-3528127080309347764</id><published>2011-04-03T12:23:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-04-03T12:27:23.191-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Perfeição</title><summary type="text">Adoração puraViver e reviverDe novo, novamenteQuerer tudo infinitamenteIncessantementeDefinitivamenteIndistintamenteSer assimMe repetindoUm delírio impróprioSem querer liberdadeEcoando universalmenteReflexos circularesSem espelhosSem viasO mesmo rumoIntensivamente rebatidoTudo perfeitoMenos em mimTudo feitoMenos por mimA perfeição nunca faz...Eu</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/3528127080309347764/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/3528127080309347764' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/3528127080309347764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/3528127080309347764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2011/04/perfeicao.html' title='Perfeição'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-3843543706830841375</id><published>2011-01-04T17:52:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T17:52:55.481-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Meteoro</title><summary type="text">O que será?Existe, enfim, fim?O que será de nós?Existe além, depois do fim?E de quem será?Algum contorno?De qual autor?Se tivesse essas certezas,teria medo.Mas como nada possuo,vou continuar me perdendo assim...Me desfazendo pelo atrito entre meus sonhos, loucurase a realidade do mundo.Meu ser ía bemno espaço sideralEm contato com o arvirei essa bola incandescente.E se tiver sorte me </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/3843543706830841375/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/3843543706830841375' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/3843543706830841375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/3843543706830841375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2011/01/meteoro.html' title='Meteoro'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-5768725267124602645</id><published>2010-09-15T15:15:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T23:38:54.215-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Inteligência</title><summary type="text">Minha inteligência dói.Minha mente destrói.A cultura afoga-me.Sei nadarmas o mar é tão infinito.Ele transborda e me jogaque só soçobra, a minha dor.Em redemoinhos salgadostudo viraessa espuma branca.Amplitude máximamolhada pelo infinito.Penamas nada irá restar no final.Minha infinidadeé finita.Eu</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/5768725267124602645/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/5768725267124602645' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/5768725267124602645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/5768725267124602645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2010/09/inteligencia.html' title='Inteligência'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-5309962398001365605</id><published>2009-11-07T23:21:00.011-03:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T23:07:33.636-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cacos</title><summary type="text">Se lançada ao chãopor um esbarrãoA louçaao se quebrarem múltiplos cacos ficaráNão em doisPois na naturezanada é únicoTudo é pluralSó a obra humanaé geométrica e planaSó a nós foi dada a ilusãode sermos apenas umPor breves momentosEntãoPodemos ser como nossa obraÚnicosAinda que efêmerosPor fim quebraremosem infinitos pedaçosTalvez aísejamos inteirosNo maissomos todos mortais.Eu</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/5309962398001365605/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/5309962398001365605' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/5309962398001365605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/5309962398001365605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2009/11/cacos.html' title='Cacos'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-2710744349204599864</id><published>2009-11-01T19:01:00.007-03:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T21:05:56.902-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Mundo Imaginário</title><summary type="text">No mundo de imagens, onde o parecer suplantou o ser, os detalhes, as nuanças tornaram-se essenciais, porque, afinal, nos tempos modernos, em que a arte morreu, e o conteúdo passou a ser mero detalhe copiado e falsificado a cada momento, são os pequenos traços que revelam o estilo, o verdadeiro conteúdo, do mesmo modo que a imagem se sobrepôs ao ser, o estilo suplantou o conteúdo da arte.  </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/2710744349204599864/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/2710744349204599864' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/2710744349204599864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/2710744349204599864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2009/11/mundo-imaginario.html' title='Mundo Imaginário'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-3168067572864338373</id><published>2009-08-03T01:46:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T22:11:58.935-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Máscara</title><summary type="text">Meu rosto,Máscara distorcida pelo tempoImpelido contra o ventoAção da gravidadeMeu rosto,derretido pelo calor da vidaBorrão transformado pela emoçãoVale no meio de montanhas de rugasMeu rosto,Aquele que o tempoLevou de mimSem pena ou remorsoMeu rosto,Onde estaria ele?Por onde andaaquela criança?Meu rosto,Irreconhecível agoraPorque somaram neleTodas as coisas do mundoMeu rosto,Em breve será sómais</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/3168067572864338373/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/3168067572864338373' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/3168067572864338373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/3168067572864338373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2009/08/mascara.html' title='Máscara'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-8854449132762360350</id><published>2009-03-04T00:44:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T00:45:50.935-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Bichano</title><summary type="text">Tenho na loucuraum animal de estimação.Roçando em minhas pernaseu acaricio meu bichano.Ronronando ela me conquistae logoestou em suas garrastodo arranhado.Filetes de sanguemeu corpo marcadoe meu bichanomiando para mim.Eu </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/8854449132762360350/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/8854449132762360350' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/8854449132762360350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/8854449132762360350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2009/03/bichano.html' title='Bichano'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-1199982682940861861</id><published>2008-12-28T00:50:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T00:55:02.027-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Vida Bela</title><summary type="text">A vida é belaé velaque irradiamoscom o seu queimarNossas velasse apagam com o ventoqueimam com o tempoViva!Sem medo do ventotudo tem seu tempoMeu calornão vai te queimarnão se canse de tentarnão deixa o tempo passarO luar viránão de diamas um diasem aguardartudo acabaráQuem viveuveráe não teráo que lamentarMas não se desesperenão espere sozinhaPor quê?Não vai adiantar.Eu</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/1199982682940861861/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/1199982682940861861' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/1199982682940861861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/1199982682940861861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2008/12/vida-bela.html' title='Vida Bela'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-3680804603002869136</id><published>2008-10-19T03:58:00.008-03:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T04:12:40.942-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sonâmbulo</title><summary type="text">&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;     Normal   0   21                         MicrosoftInternetExplorer4   &lt;![endif]--&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:&quot;&quot;; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:Arial; 	mso-fareast-font-family:&quot;Times New Roman&quot;;} @page Section1 	{size:21.0cm 842.0pt; 	margin:</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/3680804603002869136/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/3680804603002869136' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/3680804603002869136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/3680804603002869136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2008/10/sonnbulo.html' title='Sonâmbulo'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-8646819952523263685</id><published>2008-07-18T22:39:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T22:43:05.312-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Danem-se!</title><summary type="text">Dane-se o mundoe seus moribundos!Dane-se a razãoe todas as suas coisas!Fiquem os restosdos rejeitos!Os sujeitosque encontremseus defeitos!Estou pouco feitoa tudoseja muitoseja poucoseja demais!O saco encheutransbordoude idiotices parafraseadas!Estou opacoe turvocriou-se limoem minha retina!Cuspi meu cérebrode manhãfiz tolices até o anoitecer!Vou andar sozinhodar voltaspor cima de minha </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/8646819952523263685/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/8646819952523263685' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/8646819952523263685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/8646819952523263685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2008/07/danem-se_4717.html' title='Danem-se!'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-2382385584419936456</id><published>2008-04-27T19:40:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T19:41:35.857-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Brincadeira</title><summary type="text">Eu brinco com as palavrasMeu brinquedo é a vidaNunca canso de brincarbrinco com a brincadeirabrincadeira de meninobrinquedo da vidabrinco com o brinquedovivo de brincadeirabrinco de viverSou um brinquedobrinquedo do tempovou brincar até a brincadeira acabarnão esconda seu brinquedonão estrague a brincadeiravenha brincar comigo.Eu</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/2382385584419936456/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/2382385584419936456' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/2382385584419936456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/2382385584419936456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2008/04/brincadeira.html' title='Brincadeira'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-7255658071382519407</id><published>2008-02-22T01:20:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T01:22:51.387-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Pintura</title><summary type="text">A pintura na tela dançase transformase debatena forma planaseu limiteem espaço físico se traduztenta fugirmuda de cor e formatentando ganhar algo mais realdo que sua própria imagempode ainda não parecer.A realidade é escadae cada degrau que subimosnele mais nos perdemoso chão então se desfazna distância de cada degrau abandonadoe de cimaperde-se toda a noção de sentido.O sentimento se desfazem </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/7255658071382519407/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/7255658071382519407' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/7255658071382519407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/7255658071382519407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2008/02/pintura.html' title='Pintura'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-3049440370352910487</id><published>2007-12-28T00:19:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T00:20:30.199-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Menino</title><summary type="text">Fique para olharo tempo passare amar a imagem distantede um meninobrincando com o seu destinoEra de pura alegriao menino riaporque não viao fim do dia...Eu</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/3049440370352910487/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/3049440370352910487' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/3049440370352910487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/3049440370352910487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2007/12/menino.html' title='Menino'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-4435496304781324495</id><published>2007-12-28T00:16:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T00:18:55.394-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Borboleta</title><summary type="text">Borboletas voandoem volta do jardima semear pólemde flor em florO sol corta indistintamenteo verdetudo colore a paisagem.Queria escrever assimcomo quem espalha floresnum jardim.Eu</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/4435496304781324495/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/4435496304781324495' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/4435496304781324495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/4435496304781324495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2007/12/borboleta.html' title='Borboleta'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-5597956245252570736</id><published>2007-11-19T00:06:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T00:24:13.793-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Praia</title><summary type="text">Da praiao horizonte parece um prisioneiroentre o céu e o mar.Neste paralelo infinito, encontro-me.Sou como este eterno desencontroum ser envolto neste sem fima não se tocar.Este sentido frio e distantecruzou comigopossuindo-me de esquecimentoe deixando o mundo algo nulo.Perdi-me ao contemplar estes dois infinitos azuis.Quando percebi o ocorridotudo já tinha idoe me levado consigo.Eu</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/5597956245252570736/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/5597956245252570736' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/5597956245252570736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/5597956245252570736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2007/11/praia.html' title='Praia'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-584156908520149176</id><published>2007-10-27T23:01:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2007-10-27T23:01:37.566-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Abismo</title><summary type="text">A poesiatrás consigoa ilusão da eternidadeescondendo por trásnossa triste verdadea idadee o que ela nos trás.Vivendo por nóso infinito do temponos trásum conto sem fimtransportando-nosAssimpara além do portalda etérea eternidade.Prisioneiro do tempocomo todos nósGosto de pensarque escrevendoposso alongarmeu tempoe tornar o período de esperauma nova era.Ainda que tudoseja delírioprefiro sonhare </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/584156908520149176/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/584156908520149176' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/584156908520149176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/584156908520149176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2007/10/abismo.html' title='Abismo'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-6633355173485446830</id><published>2007-09-17T00:52:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T00:55:03.802-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Matando</title><summary type="text">Às vezes sonho com você me matandoe não consigo imaginar nada melhor.Partirtendo como última lembrançaseu rosto...Depoisdescansaria em paz.Eu</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/6633355173485446830/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/6633355173485446830' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/6633355173485446830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/6633355173485446830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2007/09/matando.html' title='Matando'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-278860856381931244</id><published>2007-09-04T02:32:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T02:35:01.949-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Respirar</title><summary type="text">Parar de respirarnos teus braços.E recomeçarum novo universono chuparde sua boca.E no valeentre seus seiosvou descansarpara depois descerao seu centro.E colher alio molharde seus suores.E realizandocada tremor de seu corpocada arrepiar de sua dermevou deslizandopara de novo recomeçar.Eu</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/278860856381931244/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/278860856381931244' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/278860856381931244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/278860856381931244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2007/09/respirar.html' title='Respirar'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-1979296266032599272</id><published>2007-08-18T02:00:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-08-18T02:01:21.051-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Fantasmas</title><summary type="text">... e no tempo percorridodeixo fantasmas do meu serque moram em diasque já foram meus.... e nos caminhos percorridosmeus fantasmas vão se perderpara nunca mais se acharemnos caminhos do meu ser.... e no tempo perdidomeus fantasmas vão vivervão se achar na tentativade então me encontrar.... e nos caminhos do meu sermeus fantasmas vão perecerpara depoisse tornarem partes do meu ser....e no tempo </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/1979296266032599272/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/1979296266032599272' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/1979296266032599272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/1979296266032599272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2007/08/fantasmas.html' title='Fantasmas'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-2364219440347064820</id><published>2007-08-05T14:53:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-08-05T14:55:07.752-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Madrugada</title><summary type="text">É de madrugadaque a luz apagaque o sono afagaque vem a fadade luz apagada.É de madrugadaque a voz calaÉ que escrevo uma palavrabem calada.É de madrugadae de luz apagadaque vem vocêcomo uma fada.E como o sonovocê me afagabem de madrugadabem caladaé que você escreve uma palavraAmorna caladada madrugada...Eu</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/2364219440347064820/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/2364219440347064820' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/2364219440347064820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/2364219440347064820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2007/08/de-madrugada-que-luz-apaga-que-o-sono.html' title='Madrugada'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6728135364271772406.post-1280555994975391149</id><published>2007-07-25T01:23:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2007-10-28T13:44:22.241-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Esconder</title><summary type="text">Pode esconder-seno céu à noitecomo uma nuvem branca.Pode-se correrde um homem manco.Ocultar-se em plena luzde um cego.Pode-se enfimEncontrar qualquer caminho incertode certopara correr de algobasta ter-se pernase não ser um manco.Para ser pequenoprecisa-se apenas daquiloque já temos de sobra.Precisamos de coragemsimpara criarsonhar altoque da queda podemos sofrer.Se da vida podemos colher.Por quê</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/feeds/1280555994975391149/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/6728135364271772406/1280555994975391149' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/1280555994975391149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6728135364271772406/posts/default/1280555994975391149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepwalk1.blogspot.com/2007/07/esconder.html' title='Esconder'/><author><name>PRS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14509742908710018038</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>