<?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/opensearch/1.1/' 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' gd:etag='W/&quot;Ck8DRX8ycSp7ImA9Wh5QEkg.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815</id><updated>2013-10-31T17:21:14.199-03:00</updated><category term='Música'/><category term='Escritos'/><category term='Poesia'/><title>+ÓPERA SOTURNA+</title><subtitle type='html'>A vida é uma ópera e uma grande ópera.
    [Machado de Assis]</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default?redirect=false&amp;v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>22</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DUUNRno7eyp7ImA9WhVRF0w.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815.post-7230006391028756525</id><published>2012-03-25T20:14:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2012-03-25T20:14:57.403-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2012-03-25T20:14:57.403-03:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;E como são estilhaços &lt;br /&gt;
Do ser as coisas dispersas&lt;br /&gt;
Quebro a alma em pedaços&lt;br /&gt;
E em pessoas diversas&lt;br /&gt;
[Fernando Pessoa]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;Me senti várias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;Muitas traçadas sem fim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;Mas o espelho deu defeito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"&gt;E o reflexo mentiu pra mim &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/7230006391028756525/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2012/03/e-como-sao-estilhacos-do-ser-as-coisas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/7230006391028756525?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/7230006391028756525?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2012/03/e-como-sao-estilhacos-do-ser-as-coisas.html' title=''/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DEAMSXk_cCp7ImA9WhRWEkw.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815.post-322507963320840796</id><published>2011-12-30T00:06:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T00:46:28.748-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-12-30T00:46:28.748-03:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title></title><content type='html'>Diante de Cronos, esse velho cruel&lt;br /&gt;
Choro ao ver o passar dos dias&lt;br /&gt;
O fim das noites &lt;br /&gt;
A rapidez das horas&lt;br /&gt;
Que levam embora a juventude e a força&lt;br /&gt;
Trazendo as dores e a cólera&lt;br /&gt;
A certeza mórbida do fim &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Não tenho estórias e lembranças talhadas em memórias &lt;br /&gt;
Não tenho palavras gravadas em árvores ou em mármores&lt;br /&gt;
Nem poesia sólida ou amores vividos&lt;br /&gt;
As flores que planejei não foram plantadas&lt;br /&gt;
As melodias que senti no peito não foram tocadas&lt;br /&gt;
As cartas não foram trocadas &lt;br /&gt;
As fotografias não foram tiradas&lt;br /&gt;
Nunca fiz as malas para ir embora&lt;br /&gt;
Não disse eu te amo&lt;br /&gt;
Nada de pai, absinto, mares ou Revolução&lt;br /&gt;
Nem&amp;nbsp; Itália, danças ciganas e latinas ou passos de Che&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Apenas a paixão pelos sonhos&lt;br /&gt;
Escrava das ideias &lt;br /&gt;
Se o tempo mata e castiga&lt;br /&gt;
O sonho envolve prometendo vida</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/322507963320840796/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2011/12/diante-de-cronos-esse-velho-cruel-choro.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/322507963320840796?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/322507963320840796?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2011/12/diante-de-cronos-esse-velho-cruel-choro.html' title=''/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DU4MQn44eSp7ImA9WhRQGE8.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815.post-8857420903300631899</id><published>2011-12-13T22:59:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T22:59:43.031-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-12-13T22:59:43.031-03:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Escritos'/><title></title><content type='html'>O problema é querer que os outros sejam espelhos e aceitar ser espelho...</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/8857420903300631899/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2011/12/o-problema-e-querer-que-os-outros-sejam.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/8857420903300631899?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/8857420903300631899?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2011/12/o-problema-e-querer-que-os-outros-sejam.html' title=''/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;CkAMQHk_cSp7ImA9WhRQEkQ.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815.post-7688948202585073895</id><published>2011-12-07T17:46:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-12-07T17:46:21.749-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-12-07T17:46:21.749-03:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Escritos'/><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Não me peçam para ficar calada diante dessa realidade que não consigo nem ao menos nomear. A paixão pelos meus sonhos é sem fim. O meu amor pela vida é ainda maior. Então, não me peçam. Não!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/7688948202585073895/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2011/12/nao-me-pecam-para-ficar-calada-diante.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/7688948202585073895?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/7688948202585073895?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2011/12/nao-me-pecam-para-ficar-calada-diante.html' title=''/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;AkAMQH8ycSp7ImA9WhdWE0k.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815.post-5097397917700337663</id><published>2011-09-05T21:27:00.013-03:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T19:39:41.199-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-09-06T19:39:41.199-03:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Música'/><title>ANATHEMA</title><content type='html'>&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://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qPZhRdWWYzw/TmVgbfrEF-I/AAAAAAAACLQ/onXMdwmvRQw/s1600/1273375804025_f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="323" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qPZhRdWWYzw/TmVgbfrEF-I/AAAAAAAACLQ/onXMdwmvRQw/s400/1273375804025_f.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&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: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Times,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Escrever sobre &lt;a href="http://www.anathema.ws/index.cfm"&gt;Anathema&lt;/a&gt; é um desafio para a minha mente que vive submetida a um amor mais que intenso pela banda, e os motivos para tanto amor são simples e decisivos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Primeiramente o fato de conhecer a banda aos 15 anos por meio de um amigo que fez questão de me apresentar o EP &lt;b&gt;Pentencost III&lt;/b&gt; (1995) e logo depois o álbum &lt;b&gt;Eternity&lt;/b&gt; (1996), dois trabalhos incríveis que marcam simplesmente a transição da banda (lembrando que entre os dois existe o enigmático &lt;b&gt;The Silent Enigma&lt;/b&gt;, de 1995) do &lt;b&gt;Doom Metal&lt;/b&gt; para o &lt;b&gt;Progressivo/Alternativo/Experiemtal/Atmosférico&lt;/b&gt;, como eles mesmos definem atualmente, consolidando em seu som a influência do genial Pink Floyd.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rvknfxiBTWc/TmVbhYkt3xI/AAAAAAAACLI/eCgg007G8VY/s1600/1221622017531_f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="223" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rvknfxiBTWc/TmVbhYkt3xI/AAAAAAAACLI/eCgg007G8VY/s400/1221622017531_f.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;O Anathema surge em 1992 em Liverpool em meio à cena Doom Metal que se intensificou na Inglaterra entre a década de oitenta e noventa, história que têm início lá na década de setenta na mesma fértil Inglaterra (&lt;a href="http://www.spectrumgothic.com.br/musica/doom_gothic.htm"&gt;conheça um pouco sobre a história do doom metal aqui&lt;/a&gt;).&amp;nbsp; Como toda banda de doom, a banda se caracterizava por um som denso e arrastado, os vocais guturais e melódicos e as letras intimistas. Muitos questionaram as transformações ocorridas no estilo da banda ao longo dos anos. É só escutar os trabalhos da fase doom e os álbuns atuais e a sensação é de que não se trata da mesma banda (especialmente porque os dois primeiros álbuns contavam com Darren White nos vocais e a partir do álbum &lt;b&gt;A Natural&lt;/b&gt; &lt;b&gt;Disaster&lt;/b&gt; de 2003, a cantora Lee Douglas se tornou membro fixo da banda), daí a reprovação de alguns e a extrema aprovação de outros.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;O fato é que o som da banda é único, as letras continuam intimistas, falam sobre a existência, experiências e sentimentos, o som é mais que experimental e os vocais, agora mais leves, continuam, em alguns momentos, sendo alternados entre o vocal fiminino e masculino, às vezes entre a voz de &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;Vincent Cavanagh&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt; e a de &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;Danny Cav anagh&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L1Dl2VDDi2M/TmVTy2CPvxI/AAAAAAAACLA/vS9b9KavR00/s1600/l17816487282_6824.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="308" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L1Dl2VDDi2M/TmVTy2CPvxI/AAAAAAAACLA/vS9b9KavR00/s400/l17816487282_6824.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Esse mês e mais precisamente hoje o Anathema lança &lt;b style="color: red;"&gt;Falling Deeper &lt;/b&gt;com a releitura das músicas mais lindas de sua fase doom, adaptadas ao novo estilo progressivo da banda. E eu que nem tinha digerido por completo o álbum &lt;b style="color: red;"&gt;We're here because we're &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b style="color: red;"&gt;here&lt;/b&gt;, lançado no ano passado, agora estou me emocionando com essa releitura surpreendente. Algumas músicas são adaptações de Pentecost III, primeira obra prima da banda que conheci e que motivou minha paixão, afinal não é qualquer banda que tem um Vincent Cavanagh nos vocais. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Destaque para as faixas &lt;i&gt;Kingdom&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;i&gt;J’ai Fait Une&lt;/i&gt; &lt;i&gt;Promesse&lt;/i&gt; e &lt;i&gt;Sunset of Age&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;h2 style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"&gt;Destaque para o álbum &lt;b&gt;A Fine Day To Exit (2001) &lt;/b&gt;que amo e para o ex-baixista&lt;a href="http://duncanpatterson.blogspot.com/"&gt; Duncan Patterson&lt;/a&gt;, que compôs as letras mais intensas da banda. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;h2 style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;E é por isso que Anathema é lindo, por suas fases, sons, vocais e letras incrivelmente variadas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Agora vocês sabem de onde tiro frases como: um momento no tempo, enigma silencioso, um desastre natural, estamos aqui porque estamos aqui, esperanças esquecidas, dentre outras...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BpgWBapv6dE/TmViq0jNakI/AAAAAAAACLY/RoR-hMd0tN4/s1600/KSCOPE187-400px.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BpgWBapv6dE/TmViq0jNakI/AAAAAAAACLY/RoR-hMd0tN4/s320/KSCOPE187-400px.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Falling Deeper&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/5097397917700337663/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2011/09/anathema.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/5097397917700337663?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/5097397917700337663?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2011/09/anathema.html' title='ANATHEMA'/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qPZhRdWWYzw/TmVgbfrEF-I/AAAAAAAACLQ/onXMdwmvRQw/s72-c/1273375804025_f.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;D04HQ3s9fyp7ImA9WhRWEkw.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815.post-8161094476412208889</id><published>2011-08-05T20:05:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T00:32:12.567-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-12-30T00:32:12.567-03:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Clara luz, luz clara&lt;br /&gt;
Vejo a fome na alma de todos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;E busco o porque das coisas brilhantes&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Homero me alucinou!&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/8161094476412208889/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2011/08/homero-me-alucinou.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/8161094476412208889?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/8161094476412208889?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2011/08/homero-me-alucinou.html' title=''/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DkMARH4_eyp7ImA9WhdREUs.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815.post-5371875722087870945</id><published>2011-07-31T23:07:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T23:07:25.043-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-07-31T23:07:25.043-03:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title></title><content type='html'>&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;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n5buXU9g2IY/TjYFqMTlhHI/AAAAAAAACK4/NS6kW7Rtk2s/s1600/come_se_l__avessi_vissuto_ieri_by_DaRk1MagdaLena.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n5buXU9g2IY/TjYFqMTlhHI/AAAAAAAACK4/NS6kW7Rtk2s/s400/come_se_l__avessi_vissuto_ieri_by_DaRk1MagdaLena.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"&gt;Como odeio a luz do sol que revela tudo, revela até o possivel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"&gt;[Clarisse Lispector] &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;Queremos o apego, mas buscamos o abandono. Queremos as certezas, mas cultivamos as dúvidas.&amp;nbsp; Sonhamos com um jardim verde, mas insistimos nas aventuras. Polarizamos a vida e os dias. Acabo de ver o primeiro luzeiro: noturno, pequeno e distante. Isso não carrega sentido, apenas faz parte desse instante.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/5371875722087870945/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2011/07/como-odeio-luz-do-sol-que-revela-tudo.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/5371875722087870945?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/5371875722087870945?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2011/07/como-odeio-luz-do-sol-que-revela-tudo.html' title=''/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n5buXU9g2IY/TjYFqMTlhHI/AAAAAAAACK4/NS6kW7Rtk2s/s72-c/come_se_l__avessi_vissuto_ieri_by_DaRk1MagdaLena.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;A0IGQ3Y6cSp7ImA9WhZXFkg.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815.post-6775004181028300835</id><published>2011-05-06T02:25:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2011-05-06T02:25:22.819-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-05-06T02:25:22.819-03:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Poesia congelada&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Corpo anestesiado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Mente tingida&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;A panela vazia&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;O amor que passou do dia&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;A boca com fragrância tranqüila&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;O mar para esquecer a febre do meio dia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Um remédio para levar a consciência embora&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"&gt;E algum desejo invisível que me guie nesses dias&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"&gt;Porque tudo é instante, minuto, momento...&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: grey;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/6775004181028300835/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2011/05/poesia-congelada-corpo-anestesiado.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/6775004181028300835?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/6775004181028300835?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2011/05/poesia-congelada-corpo-anestesiado.html' title=''/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;D04DRng4eyp7ImA9WhRWEkw.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815.post-9112200596697846002</id><published>2011-04-14T22:59:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T00:32:57.633-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-12-30T00:32:57.633-03:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;-Ei esquecido , eu digo que os sonhos não são delirantes, mas o convívio com aquela fumaça, essa mania de viver sentado na praça, observando as cores, investigando fantasmas, fingindo ter calma, sentindo a esperança no ar sem ao menos tentar construir um mundo novo, vícios do caos...&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/9112200596697846002/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2011/04/ei-eu-digo-que-os-sonhos-nao-sao.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/9112200596697846002?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/9112200596697846002?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2011/04/ei-eu-digo-que-os-sonhos-nao-sao.html' title=''/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;D0YERHk_eCp7ImA9WhZTEE0.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815.post-4236342912709974322</id><published>2011-03-13T05:31:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-03-13T05:31:45.740-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-03-13T05:31:45.740-03:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title></title><content type='html'>Sou a melancolia que suspira junto ao jardim doce da ilusão&lt;br /&gt;
Sou um pedaço de mim&lt;br /&gt;
Pedaço de um todo que existe no espaço frio do nada&lt;br /&gt;
Sou a lágrima que mora nos lábios irreais de uma fada que caminha ao luar&lt;br /&gt;
E o meu silêncio é um festival de gritos que ecoam na tarde fresca sem fim&lt;br /&gt;
O meu sonho é um ramo solitário que mora longe do esquecimento e da lembrança&lt;br /&gt;
E a tua voz é a ilusão de dias que não são&lt;br /&gt;
De beijos que não foram&lt;br /&gt;
E de tristezas que serão</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/4236342912709974322/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2011/03/sou-melancolia-que-suspira-junto-ao.html#comment-form' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/4236342912709974322?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/4236342912709974322?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2011/03/sou-melancolia-que-suspira-junto-ao.html' title=''/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;C08HR3Y7fSp7ImA9WhRRGU8.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815.post-6022889132429336981</id><published>2010-06-20T22:08:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-12-03T11:17:16.805-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-12-03T11:17:16.805-03:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Música'/><title>In the Shadows of Vesuvius</title><content type='html'>&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;/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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/TB60_iQ4mWI/AAAAAAAACFQ/U2kg2Qavk0M/s1600/Pink%2BFloyd%2Bummagumma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="318" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/TB60_iQ4mWI/AAAAAAAACFQ/U2kg2Qavk0M/s400/Pink%2BFloyd%2Bummagumma.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Não canso mesmo de ouvir o &lt;a href="http://www.pinkfloyd.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;Pink&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;Floyd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;. Lembro até hoje quando eu tinha 12 anos e meu padrasto insistia em dizer: &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;Pink&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;Floy&lt;/span&gt;d é a melhor banda do mundo. Já eu pra contrariar dizia: Você é louco? Nunca ouviu &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;Black&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;Sabbath&lt;/span&gt;? Mas hoje em dia não tenho mais como negar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;In&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;Shadows&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;of&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;Vesuvius&lt;/span&gt;, resultado de um &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;show&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: #3333ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt; na Itália em 1972&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt; é &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;uma verdadeira viagem no espaço, como sugere a capa. Dependendo do seu grau de &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;esquizofrenia&lt;/span&gt; pode se tornar até uma viagem dentre de si mesmo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Grande, grande destaque para a faixa &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;Echoes&lt;/span&gt; de 25:21 minutos que está na integra sem divisões. Muita vontade de tocar e fazer o que ama!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/TB61Y4lFcyI/AAAAAAAACFY/2mhDxxHg3uA/s1600/In+The+Shadow+Vesuvius.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/TB61Y4lFcyI/AAAAAAAACFY/2mhDxxHg3uA/s320/In+The+Shadow+Vesuvius.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/6022889132429336981/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2010/06/in-shadows-of-vesuvius.html#comment-form' title='9 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/6022889132429336981?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/6022889132429336981?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2010/06/in-shadows-of-vesuvius.html' title='In the Shadows of Vesuvius'/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/TB60_iQ4mWI/AAAAAAAACFQ/U2kg2Qavk0M/s72-c/Pink%2BFloyd%2Bummagumma.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DEcGQXw6fip7ImA9WhRWEkw.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815.post-4793998967824158686</id><published>2009-11-08T14:55:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T00:33:40.216-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-12-30T00:33:40.216-03:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Eu quero mais uma! Só mais uma lembrança calma dos tempos idos, uma lembrança do que nunca existiu. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mas o que mais tenho são impressões que possuem corpo, força e mãos que sufocam. Uma impressão presente e distante, que delírio!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Eu lembro que eu dormia sobre o peito morto da vida, eu morria ao seu lado sentindo seu toque.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Quero olhar naqueles olhos, ver as sombras do destino, me banhar na eternidade e beber a intensidade inconstante. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;É em um olhar que encontrarei o caminho, que viverei com pleno sentido...&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/4793998967824158686/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2009/11/eu-quero-mais-uma-so-mais-uma-lembranca.html#comment-form' title='8 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/4793998967824158686?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/4793998967824158686?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2009/11/eu-quero-mais-uma-so-mais-uma-lembranca.html' title=''/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DEcBQHw9fSp7ImA9WhRWEkw.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815.post-5141579268342628736</id><published>2009-11-03T00:36:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T00:34:11.265-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-12-30T00:34:11.265-03:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title></title><content type='html'>&lt;style&gt;
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&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Tempo perdido! Perdidos no tempo! O som da chuva, o som da voz mais amarga e a lembrança do momento mais...Levantamos, tentamos voar, tentamos, mas em um momento tivemos que dizer a verdade, não conseguimos mentir por muito tempo, em algum momento descobrimos nossos segredos e em algum momento talvez até aceitamos. Tudo é frágil quando se trata de um momento, uma palavra que ecoa, uma idéia que passa a existir, e assim, vão partindo e algo, não sei ao certo o quê, vai surgindo. Com aqueles as plantações morrem, com outros as palavras, aqui a música. O que resta do tempo?O que resta depois do Tempo?&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/5141579268342628736/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2009/11/tempo-perdido-perdidos-no-tempo-o-som.html#comment-form' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/5141579268342628736?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/5141579268342628736?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2009/11/tempo-perdido-perdidos-no-tempo-o-som.html' title=''/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DEYBR3c_eSp7ImA9WhRWEkw.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815.post-8384475167659755468</id><published>2009-10-29T23:47:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T00:35:56.941-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-12-30T00:35:56.941-03:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title></title><content type='html'>O meu destino está distante. Irreal e teimoso. O único caminho está perdido, agora confusos, agora longe de tudo, esquecemos o futuro. Esperamos, mas...Lutamos distantes para construir um ideal perdido, ainda mais confuso e distante. O que não se foi?&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/8384475167659755468/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2009/10/o-meu-destino-esta-distante.html#comment-form' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/8384475167659755468?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/8384475167659755468?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2009/10/o-meu-destino-esta-distante.html' title=''/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DEUGQ3k_fCp7ImA9WhRWEkw.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815.post-3511108966071000088</id><published>2009-10-19T22:45:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T00:37:02.744-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-12-30T00:37:02.744-03:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title>Sinto que apenas vivo em pensamento</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Contraditoriamente, vivemos entre oposto, assim como vivemos entre o céu e a terra. E é sentindo o existir que sentimos o arrepio da possível verdade. É no arrepio da existência que sentimos como é oco sentir esse existir. O sentimento se revela onde habitamos, nas profundezas, no ser. As chances da dúvida não ignoram. E vejo um espelho no abismo dos olhos que olhei. Lembranças voltam da morte neste dia, o pasmo que arrebata. Sinto que apenas vivo em pensamento. &lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/3511108966071000088/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2009/10/terra.html#comment-form' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/3511108966071000088?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/3511108966071000088?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2009/10/terra.html' title='Sinto que apenas vivo em pensamento'/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DkABSXgyfSp7ImA9WhZTEE0.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815.post-2351388966911436378</id><published>2009-08-02T19:14:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-03-13T05:25:58.695-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-03-13T05:25:58.695-03:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title>HOJE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/SqQODkVXZmI/AAAAAAAABsE/sv9dSO6Tbyk/s1600-h/193022.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378439309442901602" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/SqQODkVXZmI/AAAAAAAABsE/sv9dSO6Tbyk/s400/193022.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 300px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 295px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Vejo hoje ou talvez, vejo hoje o dia. Sol dispersante, imagens vazias que me fazem querer mergulhar, mas esse é um mar de guerras onde sinto o sabor na emoção do instante. Sentimos o sabor da luta ideal quando aventuramo-nos no pensamento...Espírito sutil.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/SnYQKDLQ5UI/AAAAAAAABkQ/qWY6o2ug-S4/s1600-h/0c821f26d50acf0d.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/2351388966911436378/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2009/08/arte-fotografica.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/2351388966911436378?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/2351388966911436378?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2009/08/arte-fotografica.html' title='HOJE'/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/SqQODkVXZmI/AAAAAAAABsE/sv9dSO6Tbyk/s72-c/193022.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DEQFQX87eyp7ImA9WhRWEkw.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815.post-5451326291925103248</id><published>2009-08-02T17:19:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T00:38:30.103-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-12-30T00:38:30.103-03:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title>O SUSPIRO...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/SqQQgYDtVXI/AAAAAAAABsM/IHZY-LKx8jU/s1600-h/TlU1QWB5Pt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378442003387078002" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/SqQQgYDtVXI/AAAAAAAABsM/IHZY-LKx8jU/s400/TlU1QWB5Pt.jpg" style="float: right; height: 400px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 243px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;O suspiro é o que nos resta nesses dias de prisão, o suspiro nos faz sonhar com  a vida, o suspiro preenche a esperança de ilusão, o suspiro...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/5451326291925103248/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2009/08/o-suspiro.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/5451326291925103248?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/5451326291925103248?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2009/08/o-suspiro.html' title='O SUSPIRO...'/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/SqQQgYDtVXI/AAAAAAAABsM/IHZY-LKx8jU/s72-c/TlU1QWB5Pt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;A0YFRns-cCp7ImA9WhZTEEs.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815.post-5484551596221395962</id><published>2008-04-01T15:51:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-03-13T23:18:37.558-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-03-13T23:18:37.558-03:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title>LIVRE</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Nasci livre&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div align="center"&gt;Preciso sentir que sou livre&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ver o mundo como é&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div align="center"&gt;E a liberdade como presença&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div align="center"&gt;Meu mundo insano&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div align="center"&gt;Minha existência livre&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/5484551596221395962/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2008/04/livre.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/5484551596221395962?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/5484551596221395962?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2008/04/livre.html' title='LIVRE'/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DkEGQ387cCp7ImA9WhZTEE0.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815.post-6861260858715563729</id><published>2008-01-19T16:58:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2011-03-13T05:23:42.108-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-03-13T05:23:42.108-03:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title>AZUL</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Eu quero sonhar e acordar cedo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Quero um sol que não me queime &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E um vinho que não tire a minha lucidez&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As aranhas me perseguem &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Não tenho culpa se levo um choque &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Nem se meu humor não é dos bons &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Essa melodia é o que amo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E amo algo assim distante &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Um mistério que nasceu em um dia de chuva e sol &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Uma foto que guarda recordações &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Uma busca e uma luta que não me pertencem &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Uma pedra que perdi &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Esse cigarro me tira o ar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sinto medo de caminhar nessas ruas &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Meu amor mora no meu caminho &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Um castelo simboliza o destino humano&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Só quero um beijo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;E o olhar sempre muda tudo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Eu não esqueci&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Eu nunca esqueço&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/R5JXRf7enmI/AAAAAAAAAwA/Dwd6vTJo8JE/s1600-h/1199729849_f.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/6861260858715563729/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2008/01/azul.html#comment-form' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/6861260858715563729?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/6861260858715563729?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2008/01/azul.html' title='AZUL'/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;A0MNQX8-cSp7ImA9WhZTEEs.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815.post-2169794903537387825</id><published>2007-12-22T19:14:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-03-13T23:24:50.159-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-03-13T23:24:50.159-03:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title>MEDO DO TEMPO</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/R22O_v7enkI/AAAAAAAAAvw/s-rP1xR54Dw/s1600-h/1194752631_f.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146927175003184706" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/R22O_v7enkI/AAAAAAAAAvw/s-rP1xR54Dw/s320/1194752631_f.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Na estrada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;No caminho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Tudo passa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Eu passo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;E vou vendo um mundo sem fim&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;E um horizonte em destaque me aproxima do dia que não vivo&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;Do sonho que se torna realidade e dos desejos que sinto...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/R22OPv7eniI/AAAAAAAAAvg/1cNjYZSQygA/s1600-h/1646619.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146926350369463842" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/R22OPv7eniI/AAAAAAAAAvg/1cNjYZSQygA/s200/1646619.jpg" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/2169794903537387825/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2007/12/na-estradano-caminhotudo-passaeu-passo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/2169794903537387825?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/2169794903537387825?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2007/12/na-estradano-caminhotudo-passaeu-passo.html' title='MEDO DO TEMPO'/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/R22O_v7enkI/AAAAAAAAAvw/s-rP1xR54Dw/s72-c/1194752631_f.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DkIGRnY8eCp7ImA9WhZTEE0.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815.post-8444551860803537412</id><published>2007-09-29T19:49:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-03-13T05:22:07.870-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-03-13T05:22:07.870-03:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title>CORES E MELODIAS</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/Rv7Z6DszlkI/AAAAAAAAAYo/MhulZSPOZBs/s1600-h/Butterfly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115765818188338754" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/Rv7Z6DszlkI/AAAAAAAAAYo/MhulZSPOZBs/s400/Butterfly.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/Rv7ZvTszljI/AAAAAAAAAYg/Z2fXVpSXMSg/s1600-h/k.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115765633504745010" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/Rv7ZvTszljI/AAAAAAAAAYg/Z2fXVpSXMSg/s200/k.jpg" style="float: right; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.orkut.com/AlbumZoom.aspx?uid=1781434007066596207&amp;amp;pid=7" style="color: red;"&gt;Tudo que amo,que quero,que sinto...resume-se em cores e em negro,em sons,melodias e poesias...minha vida,solidão preenchida com tudo que tenho,pouco,porém tudo e ao mesmo tempo nada!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/Rv7ZTzszlhI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/G4GoW8oXrn8/s1600-h/butterfly-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/Rv7WojszleI/AAAAAAAAAX4/7GX9_4f2bCE/s1600-h/2114721_fotografia1300.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115762219005744610" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/Rv7WojszleI/AAAAAAAAAX4/7GX9_4f2bCE/s320/2114721_fotografia1300.jpg" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/8444551860803537412/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2007/09/cores-e-melodias.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/8444551860803537412?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/8444551860803537412?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2007/09/cores-e-melodias.html' title='CORES E MELODIAS'/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/Rv7Z6DszlkI/AAAAAAAAAYo/MhulZSPOZBs/s72-c/Butterfly.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DkMMRXY4fip7ImA9WhZTEE0.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4257825363380813815.post-1758265326357457474</id><published>2007-09-28T14:22:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2011-03-13T05:21:24.836-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2011-03-13T05:21:24.836-03:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><title>VAZIO</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div align="center"&gt;Em um monte visto ao longe&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Um bardo canta suas dores&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Uma lira, uma orgia&lt;br /&gt;
Um perfume que mata&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Uma lua que vibra durante o dia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Como o vazio de verdades irreais.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/Rv04mTszlMI/AAAAAAAAAVo/Ah2DZrQIuso/s1600-h/vbcgn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115306982537139394" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/Rv04mTszlMI/AAAAAAAAAVo/Ah2DZrQIuso/s320/vbcgn.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/feeds/1758265326357457474/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2007/09/poesia_28.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/1758265326357457474?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4257825363380813815/posts/default/1758265326357457474?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://operasoturna.blogspot.com/2007/09/poesia_28.html' title='VAZIO'/><author><name>Thâmara Cristina</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11926957317281815078</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bWlRVZKbqEA/UaXj4coGuPI/AAAAAAAACMQ/9KLeWugLT9I/s220/564580_3383994354533_403134508_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zp_kk4XkBhw/Rv04mTszlMI/AAAAAAAAAVo/Ah2DZrQIuso/s72-c/vbcgn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>