tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24889512787419672672011-07-28T19:59:55.442+01:00e a difícil arte da melancolia (Al Berto)helena, carloshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11027453703286072894noreply@blogger.comBlogger141100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488951278741967267.post-42430929822054840362009-06-13T11:02:00.001+01:002009-07-13T18:05:40.598+01:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SjN5Y4_BD0I/AAAAAAAAADA/MVwFMrk0eXo/s1600-h/Imagem+018.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346750651139428162" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 300px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SjN5Y4_BD0I/AAAAAAAAADA/MVwFMrk0eXo/s400/Imagem+018.jpg" border="0" /></a>agosto.<br />silêncio.<br />quase um voo emergente na pedra secular - amassada de húmus...<br /><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2488951278741967267-4243092982205484036?l=lindezacravo.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>helena, carloshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11027453703286072894noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488951278741967267.post-29633813133192645262009-06-13T11:01:00.001+01:002009-07-13T18:04:00.430+01:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SjN5HoeFYDI/AAAAAAAAAC4/b9jrGif_jwY/s1600-h/C%C3%A1ceres+031.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346750354648555570" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 300px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SjN5HoeFYDI/AAAAAAAAAC4/b9jrGif_jwY/s400/C%C3%A1ceres+031.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />o rio passará por aqui.<br />será breve, rasurado, quotidiano.<br />amoroso, diria eugénio.<br />voar será o seu destino.<br /><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2488951278741967267-2963381313319264526?l=lindezacravo.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>helena, carloshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11027453703286072894noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488951278741967267.post-28100546031606744792009-06-13T10:59:00.002+01:002009-07-13T18:01:13.410+01:00<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SjN4sPaI11I/AAAAAAAAACw/rumX66qtfao/s1600-h/Imagem%2861%29.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346749884064651090" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 300px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SjN4sPaI11I/AAAAAAAAACw/rumX66qtfao/s400/Imagem%2861%29.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">do azul da perda<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">das viagens esquecidas<br />seria a noite fluida<br /></div></div><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2488951278741967267-2810054603160674479?l=lindezacravo.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>helena, carloshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11027453703286072894noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488951278741967267.post-28410951579811839032009-02-03T21:42:00.001Z2009-02-04T12:28:54.987Z<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYi6dfZfCpI/AAAAAAAAACo/MK5BICIPwDU/s1600-h/Guincho+022.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298689977408752274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYi6dfZfCpI/AAAAAAAAACo/MK5BICIPwDU/s400/Guincho+022.jpg" border="0" /></a> <br /> <strong> poema último</strong><br /><br /> <br /> na noite de sophia<br /> rumorejo o silêncio de eugénio<br /> a felicidade do sol da alma<br /> na maresia de odeceixe<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2488951278741967267-2841095157981183903?l=lindezacravo.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>helena, carloshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11027453703286072894noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488951278741967267.post-56406874212013125902009-02-03T21:40:00.003Z2009-02-09T19:11:36.778Z<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYi52_5uH6I/AAAAAAAAACg/n4ti-shlIDg/s1600-h/Casal.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298689316118994850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYi52_5uH6I/AAAAAAAAACg/n4ti-shlIDg/s400/Casal.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />prenhes de solidão as árvores resistem<br />à voraz diferença do recorte translúcido<br />eugénio escreveria coisas emergentes<br />tais como energia plano rasura<br />dos dias eternos no regaço de sua mãe<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2488951278741967267-5640687421201312590?l=lindezacravo.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>helena, carloshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11027453703286072894noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488951278741967267.post-38468909841851996212009-02-01T18:46:00.003Z2009-02-02T19:21:06.972Z<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297903917212186242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYXviw-VNoI/AAAAAAAAACQ/iHG9Xy057yI/s400/Guincho+011.jpg" border="0" /><br />a passagem para o sonho<br />caeiro guardaria rebanhos<br />o corpo fenece no veludo azul<br />na noite te devoro<br />Lorca de sangue<br />de Granada<br />se vires o futuro isto é a mãe da campina<br />rasurás a tua mão<br />senti-a na madrugada<br />de Setenta na falda de Torga<br />o poeta fazia amor no feno<br />Gabriela amava Espichel<br /> seria o sol do Futuro<br />se o Futuro acontecesse<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2488951278741967267-3846890984185199621?l=lindezacravo.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>helena, carloshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11027453703286072894noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488951278741967267.post-72694174982957170202009-02-01T18:40:00.001Z2009-02-02T18:34:09.117Z<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYXs79WLpGI/AAAAAAAAAB4/CMJlXKXrYlk/s1600-h/Imagem+014.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297901051495294050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYXs79WLpGI/AAAAAAAAAB4/CMJlXKXrYlk/s400/Imagem+014.jpg" border="0" /></a> o som do último sol de uma praia selvagem<br />sabemos que a praia é o corpo<br />raramente navegámos águas assim<br />move-se a vida<br />o corpo solar<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2488951278741967267-7269417498295717020?l=lindezacravo.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>helena, carloshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11027453703286072894noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488951278741967267.post-3953690000984568482009-02-01T18:37:00.001Z2009-02-02T18:30:54.858Z<div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYXsTkcWcmI/AAAAAAAAABw/Rw4oKVHK-Vk/s1600-h/Imagem+004.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297900357615514210" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 190px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 125px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYXsTkcWcmI/AAAAAAAAABw/Rw4oKVHK-Vk/s400/Imagem+004.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />o azul é profundo<br />permanece no olhar<br />não naufraga<br />questiona o corpo<br />ventre inicial<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2488951278741967267-395369000098456848?l=lindezacravo.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>helena, carloshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11027453703286072894noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488951278741967267.post-88054522199016686952009-02-01T15:36:00.003Z2009-02-01T18:23:33.397Z<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYXCiy7kzBI/AAAAAAAAABo/J4JSL2Wr2ew/s1600-h/C%C3%A1ceres+012.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297854439714245650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYXCiy7kzBI/AAAAAAAAABo/J4JSL2Wr2ew/s400/C%C3%A1ceres+012.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />rugosa memória a<br />da fenda inicial no<br />campo dos anos vinte<br />maria bebia o leite das madrugadas<br />seriam tempos poéticos<br />nocturnos<br />solitários<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2488951278741967267-8805452219901668695?l=lindezacravo.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>helena, carloshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11027453703286072894noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488951278741967267.post-44235178374498950412009-01-29T17:34:00.010Z2009-02-01T15:35:12.293Z<p align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYHoswuGYQI/AAAAAAAAABg/hpuROr-aWxU/s1600-h/Imagem+018.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296770492454560002" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 363px; HEIGHT: 187px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYHoswuGYQI/AAAAAAAAABg/hpuROr-aWxU/s400/Imagem+018.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYHoswuGYQI/AAAAAAAAABg/hpuROr-aWxU/s1600-h/Imagem+018.jpg"></a></p><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYHoswuGYQI/AAAAAAAAABg/hpuROr-aWxU/s1600-h/Imagem+018.jpg"></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYHoswuGYQI/AAAAAAAAABg/hpuROr-aWxU/s1600-h/Imagem+018.jpg"></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYHoswuGYQI/AAAAAAAAABg/hpuROr-aWxU/s1600-h/Imagem+018.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYHoswuGYQI/AAAAAAAAABg/hpuROr-aWxU/s1600-h/Imagem+018.jpg"></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYHoswuGYQI/AAAAAAAAABg/hpuROr-aWxU/s1600-h/Imagem+018.jpg"></a><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYHoswuGYQI/AAAAAAAAABg/hpuROr-aWxU/s1600-h/Imagem+018.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="right">matéria vã a do corpo solar<br />nudez total dir-se-ia</div><div align="right"> primacial<br />devorar o ventre fértil </div><div align="right"></div><div align="right"></div><div align="right"></div><div align="right"></div><div align="right"></div><div align="right"></div><div align="right"></div><div align="right"></div><div align="right"> </div><div align="right"> </div>..No calor da noite, uma porta cerrada...<br /><br />Bate mais forte....! Mais forte<br /><br />O turbilhão de sentidos em que se perde<br />quando o amor julgara encontrar....<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2488951278741967267-4423517837449895041?l=lindezacravo.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>helena, carloshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11027453703286072894noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488951278741967267.post-7447390600061361262009-01-29T17:32:00.001Z2009-01-30T10:26:32.831Z<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYHoYmRUlLI/AAAAAAAAABY/tb2rIXAlnf0/s1600-h/Imagem+026.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296770146052117682" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 300px; height: 400px;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYHoYmRUlLI/AAAAAAAAABY/tb2rIXAlnf0/s400/Imagem+026.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />onde fenece o mar<br />o amor<br />amar o mar<br />serão importantes os versos quando os sentirmos no corpo<br />no espelho do mar<br />presente o sol<br /><br /><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2488951278741967267-744739060006136126?l=lindezacravo.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>helena, carloshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11027453703286072894noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488951278741967267.post-43677345021435123682009-01-29T17:30:00.005Z2009-02-01T18:14:10.434Z<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYHoGt7ewpI/AAAAAAAAABQ/MUeC1B2iCsw/s1600-h/Imagem+011.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296769838870348434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYHoGt7ewpI/AAAAAAAAABQ/MUeC1B2iCsw/s400/Imagem+011.jpg" border="0" /></a> no corpo nascente<br />sobrevoámos as rias da memória<br />naquele agosto mortífero<br />pousávamos nas asas das gaivotas<br />Lorca bebia o sangue de Granada<br />sangue feito revolução<br />no teu cálice<br /><br />Assim ela se prendeu...<br />num cordão de dualidade em estado de permanência<br />que não pretendia quebrar...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2488951278741967267-4367734502143512368?l=lindezacravo.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>helena, carloshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11027453703286072894noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488951278741967267.post-9211151172825021262009-01-27T18:58:00.001Z2009-01-28T14:55:13.272Z<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SX9Ztn7zeJI/AAAAAAAAAA4/R59c589U_m4/s1600-h/Guincho+019.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296050327159797906" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 400px; height: 300px;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SX9Ztn7zeJI/AAAAAAAAAA4/R59c589U_m4/s400/Guincho+019.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />rasgado o horizonte<br />na maresia dos corpos entreabertos<br />soluçantes esventrados<br />feridos da morte inicial<br />do teu peito por descobrir<br /><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2488951278741967267-921115117282502126?l=lindezacravo.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>helena, carloshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11027453703286072894noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2488951278741967267.post-9614318992339547222009-01-24T18:09:00.004Z2009-01-28T14:32:24.936Z<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYBsZDnBFuI/AAAAAAAAABI/vepFo0K-wfQ/s1600-h/Imagem_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 303px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nHdnVuKZbuM/SYBsZDnBFuI/AAAAAAAAABI/vepFo0K-wfQ/s400/Imagem_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296352339509188322" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />sophia amou o corpo da areia<br />deste mar<br />neste mar<br />no corpo de uma mulher<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2488951278741967267-961431899233954722?l=lindezacravo.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>helena, carloshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11027453703286072894noreply@blogger.com0