tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-113773722011-04-21T20:17:37.512Zentre lianas troncos fortes sons à volta, pouco vejo mais que, desta clareira entre árvores, o céu. assim é que está certo: escondida até de deus!Nonnoreply@blogger.comBlogger311100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1116940191162152902005-05-24T13:05:00.000Z2005-05-24T13:09:51.166Z<p> </p><br /><img src="http://www.spiritlink.com/mother_earth.jpg" /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><a href="http://www.spiritlink.com/booart.html">The Visionary Art of Boo Ehrsam</a></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><div align="center"><strong>a terra é imparável como a vida</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong> </p><div align="center"><strong>e há-de contar aos ventos e às águas</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong> </p><div align="center"><strong>o nome maldito dos que roubam</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong> </p><div align="center"><strong>do colo alheio o amor.</strong></div><br /><p> </p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111694019116215290?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1116867340085069182005-05-23T15:51:00.000Z2005-05-23T16:55:40.090Z<img height="297" src="http://www.tamissportalmeria.com/cabra.JPG" width="388" /><br /><a href="http://www.tamissportalmeria.com/fototamis.htm"><span style="font-size:85%;">foto de</span></a><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><br /><strong>velhice vazia </strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong> </div><div align="center"><strong>solitários dias<br /><br />que pensou a cabra?<br /><br />- vou-me a roubar crias. </strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong> </div><p align="center"> </p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111686734008506918?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1116602373885156952005-05-20T15:17:00.000Z2005-05-20T16:30:29.386Z<img style="WIDTH: 390px; HEIGHT: 263px" height="285" src="http://www.kahlil.org/artcom/A054002.jpg" width="426" /><br /><a href="http://www.kahlil.org/artcom/a054002.html"><span style="font-size:78%;">TREASURE ISLAND</span> </a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;">fizeram de mim ilha:</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"></span></div><p align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;"></span></p><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#33ccff;">é meu todo o azul!</span></div><span style="font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#3366ff;"></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111660237388515695?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1115654229625026932005-05-09T14:55:00.000Z2005-05-10T17:26:51.986Z<img src="http://www.primates.com/bonobos/bonobosex.jpg" /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111565422962502693?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1114176496291630352005-04-22T12:30:00.000Z2007-01-13T00:47:46.123Z<div align="center"><br /><img style="WIDTH: 361px; HEIGHT: 237px" height="330" src="http://hometown.aol.com/manta64308/images/woman%20uvlo.jpg" width="556" /><br /><a href="http://hometown.aol.com/manta64308/Earthwoman.html">in</a><br /><a href="http://hometown.aol.com/manta64308/Earthwoman.html"></a><br /><br /><strong>carreguei sobre os ombros<br /><br />um mundo maior do que eu sabia<br /><br />dos livros todos de geografia<br /><br /><br /><br />de tão vergada não viam os meus olhos</strong></div><p align="center"></p><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>mais que o chão. até esqueci a Terra</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><br /><strong>é esta a hora de a voltar a saudar!<br /><br /></div></strong><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111417649629163035?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1113986424385139002005-04-20T06:59:00.000Z2005-04-20T09:05:19.393Z<div align="center"></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><img src="http://www.archiveimages.com/Workshops/Passage/Summer_2002/A-I_lowres/Matt-1-01.jpg" /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://www.archiveimages.com/Workshops/Passage/Summer_2002/Matt_Shepard.html">Matt Shepard</a></span></strong></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong></strong></span></div><p align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong></strong></span></p><div align="center"><strong>naquela colina </strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>havia um pastor</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>tinha lido uns livros</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>de Nosso Senhor</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>livros que contavam</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>como um Cristo</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>pobre</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>tocara leprosos</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>prostitutas novas</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>pescadores sem fé</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>olhara as mulheres</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>com respeito nobre</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>partindo depois</strong></div><div align="center"><br /><strong>- façam em Meu nome!</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>o homem pensava:</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>alastram doenças</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>a guerra não para</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>homossexuais</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>são lepra de agora?</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>os preservativos</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>eram ante-cura</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>da sida maldita</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>da peste da hora</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>e o papa, o Pai</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>a pedra angular</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>da igreja criada</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>por Nosso Senhor</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>proíbe castiga</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>bem pouco perdoa...</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>pensava pensou</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>até chegar a hora</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>em que o encontraram</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>ainda a pensar</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>já estava com Cristo</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>no seu Santo altar.</strong></div><p align="center"></p><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>-Bendito o que pensa</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>em mais do que em si.</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>Se tiveres dúvidas</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>perde-as aqui.</strong></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111398642438513900?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1113492965824474492005-04-14T14:39:00.000Z2007-01-13T00:58:29.276Z<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6628/920/1600/599500/BarnOwl%20image.guardian.co.uk.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><em><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6628/920/400/565740/BarnOwl%20image.guardian.co.uk.jpg" border="0" /></em></strong></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><em> image.guardian.co.uk</em></strong></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;">comi mochos quando era criança<br /><br />é natural que me olhem de lado<br /><br />ao ver-me aqui em espaço que é o seu.<br /><br /><br />"eu não queria. juro! era obrigada!"<br /><br /><br />quis agradecer. que má lembrança!<br /><br />num gesto sem perdão e sem vingança<br /><br />a bela ave voou, desapareceu.<br /><br /><br />"era para o apetite... a minha avó dizia..."<br /><br /><br />ao longe um piar agudo respondeu<br /><br />e fiquei só com a minha agonia<br /><br />já era de manhã ainda chorava eu.<br /></span><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111349296582447449?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1112865976329239522005-04-07T08:15:00.000Z2005-04-07T09:26:16.330Z<div align="center"><br /><br /><br /></div><p align="left"><img style="WIDTH: 413px; HEIGHT: 331px" height="355" src="http://www.operationmigration.org/images/photo%20journal%2003/Summer%20Field/cohort2-3%20HR%20822-29/JD824-1st-mngl0006.jpg" width="465" /></p><div align="center"><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><a href="http://www.operationmigration.org/PJ_class03_onecohort.htm">wind peace</a></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><br /><strong>sou vento sou vento </strong></div><strong><p align="center"><br /> </p></strong><div align="center"><strong>ninguém me retrai<br /><br />levo em rodopio<br /><br />aquilo que cai<br /><br />sou vento sou vento<br /><br />tenho forte voz<br /><br />as águas dos rios<br /><br />quebro-as na foz<br /><br />sou vento sou vento<br /><br />não canso só corro<br /><br />às vezes escondido<br /><br />parece que morro<br /><br />sou vento sou vento<br /><br />bom filho do ar<br /><br />tudo o que semeio<br /><br />acaba a criar<br /><br />sou vento sou vento<br /><br />voo e limpo a terra<br /><br />só falho o intento<br /><br />de varrer a guerra<br /><br />sou vento sou vento<br /><br />que move marés<br /><br />não vejo uma arma<br /><br />cair aos meus pés<br /><br />sou vento sou vento<br /><br />e os homens da guerra<br /><br />não sou eu que invento<br /><br />vão matar a Terra.</strong> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111286597632923952?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1112798513134626952005-04-06T13:34:00.000Z2007-01-13T01:09:40.330Z<img style="WIDTH: 411px; HEIGHT: 325px" height="389" src="http://www.aftersleep.com/album/south_america/peru/08_inca_trail/day_2_-_dead_woman_pass/023_sayac_marca_at_3600m.jpg" width="500" /><br /><a href="http://www.hat.net/album/south_america/peru/08_inca_trail/day_2_-_dead_woman_pass/detail022.htm">in</a><br /><br /><strong>desde o fundo do vale através da floresta subir é tarefa impossível<br /><br />ou parece<br /><br />que quando se sobe, o ser em nós sobe também respira flores brancas<br /><br />como o sal sabedoria<br /><br />e já todo o cansaço se tranforma numa força invisível que até no céu<br /><br />e em deus confia.<br /></strong><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111279851313462695?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1112624486252655422005-04-04T13:30:00.000Z2005-04-04T14:31:23.480Z<img style="WIDTH: 396px; HEIGHT: 416px" height="438" src="http://www.fotoforma.com.br/writeable/fotoforma/musgo%20amarelo.jpg" width="436" /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><a href="http://www.fotoforma.com.br/home.asp">musgo amarelo - Maurício Simonetti - fotoforma</a></span><br /><br /><p></p><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong>mudei</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>tranfigurei-me</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>já fui verde</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><p align="center"><strong>verde-musgo macio</strong></p><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>hoje</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>forrei-me de outro</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><p align="center"><strong>musgo amarelo</strong></p><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>mais a convir</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>com trepadores</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>e frio.</strong></div><p align="center"></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111262448625265542?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1112614080126070332005-04-04T10:22:00.000Z2005-04-04T14:48:13.643Z<div align="center"><br /><br /><img style="WIDTH: 395px; HEIGHT: 344px" height="428" src="http://www.dphoto.us/forumphotos/data/500/2355DSCF0014e.jpg" width="715" /><br /><br /><br /><strong>bebo a água mais fresca e depurada<br /><br />e à flor que ma oferece, agradeço<br /><br />não lhe dizendo da outra água</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong>que em muitos voos vejo - envenenada.</strong></div><p align="center"></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111261408012607033?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1112363861153937842005-04-01T12:52:00.000Z2005-04-01T14:25:53.710Z<img src="http://www.stamates.com/images/137.jpg" /><br /><a href="http://www.stamates.com/137.html">polar hug</a> Photo By <img src="http://www.stamates.com/images/signature.gif" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p></p><p></p><div align="center"><strong>para matar o sofrer na humanidade</strong></div><p align="center"> </p><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>tantas vezes bastava um só abraço.</strong></div><p align="center"><strong>farta de culpas e de queixas vãs</strong></p><p align="center"><strong>estendo os braços e não digo, faço.</strong></p><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111236386115393784?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1112345959281915972005-04-01T08:01:00.000Z2005-04-01T09:01:07.733Z<img style="WIDTH: 406px; HEIGHT: 723px" height="879" src="http://www.nikonians-images.com/ebooks/black-forest-river-1024.jpg" width="568" /><br /><a href="http://www.nikonians.org/html/resources/guides/ebooks/nikonians-battery-guide.html">in</a><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong>abril, chega o degelo</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong>está escuro ainda aqui</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong>onde o sol entra breve</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong>e pouco se demora</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong>tenho um bom alibi</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong>não são lágrimas</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong>nesta mágica hora</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong>são gotas que caem leve</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong>vindas da cascata</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong>sobre o meu rosto</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong>sempre frontal</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong>e sempre exposto</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong>como o de um animal</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong>olhando as crias</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong>sem sair do seu posto.</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111234595928191597?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1112264668968562052005-03-31T09:31:00.000Z2007-01-13T01:35:46.753Z<div align="center"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6628/920/1600/54629/0%20Mountain_Scene%20akrepublicans.org.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6628/920/400/529612/0%20Mountain_Scene%20akrepublicans.org.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><em>at</em></strong></span> <em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">akrepublicans.org</span></strong></em><br /><div align="center"><br /><br /><strong>subi. subi o tempo todo até o topo quase</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>soltei o sonho e ele não voltou</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>falo alto recebo do eco a frase.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>será mais pobre aquele que sonhou?</strong><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111226466896856205?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1112195733874478632005-03-30T14:20:00.000Z2005-04-04T14:28:25.606Z<div align="center"><img src="http://www.danheller.com/images/Tropics/Palau/Forest/big-roots-big.jpg" /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://www.danheller.com/palau-forest.html">Danheller<br /></a></span><br /><strong>terra<br />mãe de tudo o que nasce verdadeiro<br />encontrei-o eu<br />mas foste ainda tu quem o viu nascer<br />crescer<br />e possessiva: quem o levou primeiro<br />aquele meu único poema a sangue feito<br />sem palavra<br />escrita ou dita por inexistente ser<br /><br />aquele meu amor! </strong></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111219573387447863?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1112094755897864192005-03-29T10:07:00.000Z2007-01-13T01:45:14.333Z<div align="center"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6628/920/1600/371066/21210e%20ukonline.co.uk.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6628/920/400/830065/21210e%20ukonline.co.uk.jpg" border="0" /></a><em><strong>at ukonline.co.uk<br /></strong></em><div align="center"><br /><br /><br /></div><p align="center"><strong>inverso da pureza:</strong></p><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong>escondo-me de Deus</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong>que assim o ensinaram:</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong>os doentes!</strong></div><p align="center"></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111209475589786419?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1112019646125949182005-03-28T13:14:00.000Z2005-03-28T14:25:50.003Z<p> </p><p><br /><br /></p><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><p align="center"><img src="http://www.discoverwest.com.au/album/southwest/karri_forest.jpg" /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:78%;">by karri<br /></span><br />ressuscitou?<br /><br />não sei. não vi como Tomé não viu.<br /><br />sei que despertei e era manhã<br /><br />mais luminosa que outra que já visse<br /></p></strong><strong><p align="center"><br />manhã primordial!<br /></p><p align="center"><br />ressuscitou?<br /><br />vamos dizer que sim, porque era bom<br /><br />corajoso amante do natural </p><p align="center">da verdade do belo<br /><br />da paz e das mulheres<br /><br />como dos homens e dos animais.<br /><br />ressuscitou?<br /></p><p align="center"><br />claro que sim.<br /><br />que lugar tinha na terra um homem como ele? </p><p align="center"></strong> </p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111201964612594918?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1111577844390958712005-03-23T10:37:00.000Z2007-01-13T01:24:32.866Z<div align="center"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6628/920/1600/156394/000%20at%20.wikimedia.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6628/920/400/929926/000%20at%20.wikimedia.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><em> at .wikimedia<br /></em></strong></span><p></p><p><br /><strong>sei um ninho mas não digo onde está<br /><br />também eu tinha um. cansada adormecida<br /><br />nem vi como chegaram junto a ele<br /><br />as aves predadoras mais gordas tentadoras<br /></p></strong><p align="center"></p><div align="center"><br /><strong>deram às crias mais do que eu podia<br /><br />e levaram do ninho o meu tesouro.<br /><br />nesta páscoa não quero saber de ovos<br /><br />nem que eles sejam de maciço ouro. </strong></div><p></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111157784439095871?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1111491104857218652005-03-22T22:30:00.000Z2005-03-22T11:37:28.436Z<div align="center"><br /><br /><img style="WIDTH: 402px; HEIGHT: 861px" height="1208" src="http://www.lbaconferencia.org/port/images/Orquidea_floresta.jpg" width="754" /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><a href="http://www.lbaconferencia.org/port/press_images.htm">em</a></span><br /><br /><br /><strong>e quando o dia vai a meio<br /><br />canso<br /><br />tenho memórias de origens<br /><br />no ar<br /><br />urge um nenúfar fresco<br /><br />manso<br /><br />para bem junto à água<br /><br />descansar<br /></strong></div><strong><p align="center"><br />mas há aquela orquídea<br /><br />subo<br /><br />não poiso bebo sôfrega<br /><br />de novo<br /><br />parto para outro rumo<br /><br />e mel cai<br /><br />do meu canto leve leve</p><p align="center">de semente</p><p align="center"> </p><p align="center">nasci para fertilizar?</p><p align="center"><br /><br /><br /></p></strong><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111149110485721865?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1111426305655109772005-03-21T16:35:00.000Z2005-03-21T17:35:09.696Z<img style="WIDTH: 416px; HEIGHT: 745px" height="933" src="http://www.desertmuseum.org/programs/images/TRV117.jpg" width="553" /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><a href="http://www.desertmuseum.org/programs/yecora_gallery-humplants-tdf.htm">in</a></span><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#999900;">meu único poema:</span> "sabe melhor o beijo desta flor. "</strong><br /><br /><p><br /><strong><span style="color:#999900;">será esta a verdadeira festa universal do amor<br /><br />ou só o hino que a natureza entorna em meu redor?</span></strong></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111142630565510977?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1111399177199624982005-03-21T09:01:00.000Z2005-03-21T15:20:15.006Z<div align="center"><strong><img src="http://jrscience.wcp.muohio.edu/photos/skywalkbridge99.jpg" /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">in</span></strong></div><p align="center"> </p><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>lembrei-me de ti pai e atraves</strong><strong>sei a ponte</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>sem saber que me aguarda ou se caio ao passar</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>nem quem a fez ou a pisou primeiro</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>atravessei. só isso. tu sabes não podia ficar</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>neutra, no caminho onde se esconde</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>tanta vã glória tanta impunidade</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>pai, faltava-me o ar!</strong></div><p align="center"></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111139917719962498?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1111151942821724502005-03-18T12:21:00.000Z2005-03-18T13:22:13.356Z<div align="center"><br /><br /><img style="WIDTH: 397px; HEIGHT: 368px" height="463" src="http://www.saske.sk/cave/photo/zvonust1.jpg" width="459" /><br /><a href="http://www.saske.sk/cave/photo/">in</a><br /><br /><strong>na gruta onde me acoito estou segura</strong></div><p align="center"><strong><br />mais fortes animais cá descansaram </strong></p><p align="center"><strong>o medo antes de mim.</strong> </p><p align="center"></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111115194282172450?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1111079853903392222005-03-17T16:11:00.000Z2005-03-21T09:51:36.260Z<strong></strong><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><img src="http://www.punchstock.com/image/eyewire/3590689/large/nbe_012.jpg" /><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><strong>deitada no chão nua de passado</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong>olho para cima e chego a entender</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong>por um longo instante </strong></div><p align="center"></p><div align="center"><strong>que se acredite em deus.</strong></div><p align="center"></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111107985390339222?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1111053432907227582005-03-17T08:49:00.001Z2005-03-17T14:05:48.710Z<p></p><img src="http://www.asahi-net.or.jp/~ss5y-hys/kaisho_forest/yellow_01.jpg" /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><a href="http://www.asahi-net.or.jp/~ss5y-hys/kaisho_forest/kaisho03.html">Yasumasa Hayashi</a></span><br /><br /><strong>e à noite quando tento dormir e sei os predadores<br /><br />à solta em meu redor<br /><br />é que o amarelo das flores serve de vela acesa<br /><br />e me alumia<br /><br />fecho os olhos e então descanso as leves asas<br /><br />até nascer o dia<br /><br /></strong><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111105343290722758?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1110967502421144762005-03-16T09:07:00.000Z2007-01-13T02:11:01.570Z<div align="center"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6628/920/1600/56139/!0%20greywolf.critter.net.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6628/920/320/222882/%210%20greywolf.critter.net.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;"><strong><em>greywolf.critter.net</em></strong></span><br /><br /><br /><strong></strong><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;"><strong>quero ser rio </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>rio da minha própria floresta</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>rio de mim</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>separar o emaranhado de ramos</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>que no topo encobriam já o sol</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>quero ser rio</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>a separar amores de desamores</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>rio de regar fertilizar</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>não de deixar nas margens rastos</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>do lixo de cidades interiores</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>eu não sou da cidade</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>nunca fui nem serei</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>tantos mal entendidos a matar o amor!</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>não tenho tempo tenho de correr</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>tenho mesmo de ser rio </strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>de águas fortes o rio de sempre</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>o rio que suportou tantos degelos</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>tantas secas infindáveis e duras</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>quero ser rio</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>afinal quero mesmo só</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>voltar a ser.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /></span></span><p></p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111096750242114476?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1110894821074965872005-03-15T12:55:00.000Z2005-03-15T13:53:41.076Z<div align="center"><img src="http://www.cs.berkeley.edu/~artin/Pictures/Berkeley's%20Nude%20Woman.jpg" /><br /><a href="http://www.cs.berkeley.edu/~artin/Photo%20Album/Photo%20album.htm">in</a></div><br /><div align="center"><br /><strong>esquecida de mim<br />abraço o inferno<br />não tenho caminho<br />não tenho morada<br />nem país nem paz</strong></div><p align="center"><br /><strong>nada apenas nada</strong></p><p align="center"><br /><strong>abraço o inferno<br />tão bem conhecido<br />ponho água do mar<br />nas feridas abertas</strong></p><p align="center"><strong></strong> </p><p align="center"><strong>é deus que não quer</strong></p><p align="center"><strong>dar-me as horas certas<br />ri-se às gargalhadas<br />relógio na mão<br />"compra um!" diz ele</strong></p><p align="center"><br /><strong>e mal por mal eu:<br />abraço o inferno<br />que já era meu.</strong></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111089482107496587?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1110882267009022202005-03-15T09:11:00.000Z2005-03-15T10:32:42.136Z<div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /><img src="http://www.bluepoppyart.co.uk/images/AROO1AExoticwoman.JPG" /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><a href="http://www.bluepoppyart.co.uk/default.asp?sub=20&amp;page=products.asp">Exotic Lady</a></span></div><p align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></p><div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></div><div align="center"><strong>do alto vejo tudo estiquei-me a infinito</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>busco com o olhar de mãe o que perdi</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>está lá longe dentro de troncos ocos</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>de pérfidas árvores parasitas de mim</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>um dia cairei abatida por madeireiros</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>avaros de troncos como o meu, exóticos </strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>e acabarei na sala absurda de alguém</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>oca eu então que vivi contra a maré</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>na ânsia única de vos deixar o mundo</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>melhor do que me deram ao plantar-me</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>em terra menos fértil mas que alguém</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>com mãos de paz sachou estrumou regou.</strong></div><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong></strong><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111088226700902220?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1110822462680433892005-03-14T16:44:00.000Z2005-03-14T17:49:58.566Z<div align="center"><img style="WIDTH: 365px; HEIGHT: 318px" height="335" src="http://www.johnharveyphoto.com/SaltSpring/RockFlowers.jpg" width="431" /><br /><a href="http://www.johnharveyphoto.com/SaltSpring/RockFlowers.html"><span style="font-size:78%;">John Harvey</span> </a></div><p></p><br /><div align="center"><strong>no recomeço rasgo-me até à alma para encontrar terras e flores</strong></div><p align="center"><strong></strong></p><div align="center"><strong></strong></div><div align="center"><strong>primitivas.</strong></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111082246268043389?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1110792903904579812005-03-14T08:36:00.000Z2007-01-13T01:56:40.813Z<div align="center"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6628/920/1600/409050/afrodite%20-%20Luigi%20Galligani.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6628/920/320/146574/afrodite%20-%20Luigi%20Galligani.jpg" border="0" /></a> <strong><em>A<span style="font-size:85%;">frodite - Luigi Galligani</span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#99ff99;"><strong>lembro ainda uma palavra</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"><strong>tinha a côr que me cerca</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"><strong>era a palavra toda verde que me deram</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#99ff99;"><strong>há muito tempo já</strong></span><br /><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#99ff99;">verde verde era o amor</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="color:#99ff99;">sinestesias...</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="color:#99ff99;">não as posso evitar.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="color:#99ff99;"></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="color:#99ff99;">ah, para quê evitar o que era só manhã</span></strong><br /><br /></span><strong><span style="color:#99ff99;"><span style="font-size:130%;">ensolarada</span>?</span></strong> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111079290390457981?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1110564245488997532005-03-11T18:00:00.000Z2005-03-11T18:10:54.053Z<div align="center"><strong>olho à volta encontro o que faltava<br />o branco que ninguém imaginou<br /><br /></strong><br /><img height="410" src="http://integral.typepad.com/kauai/3.white.flowers.jpg" width="414" /><br /></div><div align="center"><br /><strong>queria ser a pedra que o contempla<br />de lá do tempo da sua eternidade. </strong></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111056424548899753?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11377372.post-1110554428232497052005-03-11T15:20:00.000Z2005-03-11T18:10:08.206Z<p><strong>enfim achei o sítio que me serve</strong></p><br /><strong>estou tão cansada.<br /><br />dispo a minha história.<br /><br />só quero beber água e não ouvir ninguém</strong>.<br /><br /><img src="http://www.fada.com/catalogimages//genthf10333.jpg" /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><a href="http://www.fada.com/browse_all_galleries.html?artist=3179">Nude in a Forest Landscape</a></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11377372-111055442823249705?l=florestavirgem.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nonnoreply@blogger.com0