<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007</id><updated>2012-02-06T01:03:20.424Z</updated><title type='text'>Ale Lorun</title><subtitle type='html'>Ale Lorun é um nome que surgiu propositado a ser diferente, tem significado, composto com palavras de uma tribo Africana!
Aqui são publicados, desde textos a poemas, todo criado pelo próprio criador deste Blog.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>100</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-3941768168792103892</id><published>2011-11-18T20:54:00.002Z</published><updated>2011-11-18T21:20:38.301Z</updated><title type='text'>Amanhecer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1464b-VssZw/TsbMICj9hoI/AAAAAAAAAU4/Y-tChh1vwBE/s1600/Amanhecer.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 248px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1464b-VssZw/TsbMICj9hoI/AAAAAAAAAU4/Y-tChh1vwBE/s320/Amanhecer.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5676448818845812354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Vejo um cinzento vulto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Distintos traços cristalinos...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;A combustão raivosa do motor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Ao eclodir num eterno lampejo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;E...parecia o sub-consciente a comandar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Agora até vejo o amanhecer...de algum lugar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;18/11/2011&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;i&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-3941768168792103892?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/3941768168792103892/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2011/11/amanhecer.html#comment-form' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/3941768168792103892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/3941768168792103892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2011/11/amanhecer.html' title='Amanhecer'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1464b-VssZw/TsbMICj9hoI/AAAAAAAAAU4/Y-tChh1vwBE/s72-c/Amanhecer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-2284181326967422420</id><published>2010-09-21T17:41:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T17:44:11.832+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A Ilusão do Trilho</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/TJjg0vLKc9I/AAAAAAAAATs/maIGlWMPZp8/s1600/A+Ilus%C3%A3o+do+trilho.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 318px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519408539963651026" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/TJjg0vLKc9I/AAAAAAAAATs/maIGlWMPZp8/s320/A+Ilus%C3%A3o+do+trilho.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Prenunciei-me determinado&lt;br /&gt;Nem a muralha foi vista&lt;br /&gt;Nem a miséria ao meu lado.&lt;br /&gt;Não dei o passo mais certo&lt;br /&gt;Sisudo em meras pistas&lt;br /&gt;Não vi o buraco mais perto.&lt;br /&gt;Aldrabado na migalha de pão&lt;br /&gt;Contemplava aquele passado&lt;br /&gt;Não vi o presente, olhava o chão,&lt;br /&gt;Clamava ao futuro contado&lt;br /&gt;Pelo desdém da vida em combustão.&lt;br /&gt;Senti o delírio no seu argumento&lt;br /&gt;Domínio nas algemas da razão&lt;br /&gt;Indiferença no poder do tormento,&lt;br /&gt;E nisto, posso ter algum contento?&lt;br /&gt;Ou deixo tudo no que tento.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;18/08/10&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-2284181326967422420?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/2284181326967422420/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/09/ilusao-do-trilho.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2284181326967422420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2284181326967422420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/09/ilusao-do-trilho.html' title='A Ilusão do Trilho'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/TJjg0vLKc9I/AAAAAAAAATs/maIGlWMPZp8/s72-c/A+Ilus%C3%A3o+do+trilho.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-2725978390808255341</id><published>2010-09-21T16:36:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T16:44:07.797+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Longo Caminho</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/TJjSfgiw5BI/AAAAAAAAATk/8RwnBRknOJY/s1600/Longo+Caminho.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519392782096065554" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/TJjSfgiw5BI/AAAAAAAAATk/8RwnBRknOJY/s320/Longo+Caminho.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Casta alma&lt;br /&gt;Esta que perde a calma&lt;br /&gt;Por alcançar a dor&lt;br /&gt;Mera perda, ermo trauma,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Sisudo&lt;/span&gt; riso sem asas nem esplendor&lt;br /&gt;Cartas falsas? De mangas esquivas&lt;br /&gt;Deusa do céu sem amor&lt;br /&gt;Passos de mentes vivas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Tragos&lt;/span&gt; de paixão e ardor&lt;br /&gt;Primor cego ao prazer das divas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Memória de algo&lt;br /&gt;Cordas sem qualquer ligação&lt;br /&gt;Rastilho previsto ao vago&lt;br /&gt;E no que trago só me vejo a mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Pútridas&lt;/span&gt; flores de esquecer&lt;br /&gt;Sozinhas na foz da cartada&lt;br /&gt;O repouso que me veio morrer&lt;br /&gt;Não era o prazer da calada&lt;br /&gt;E nisto não vejo nada!&lt;br /&gt;Que este nada vejo falecer&lt;br /&gt;Afogado na casta alma&lt;br /&gt;Alagado de rancor de ser&lt;br /&gt;A mente imortal da calma&lt;br /&gt;A mente que morre desse trauma.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;17/09/10&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-2725978390808255341?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/2725978390808255341/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/09/longo-caminho.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2725978390808255341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2725978390808255341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/09/longo-caminho.html' title='Longo Caminho'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/TJjSfgiw5BI/AAAAAAAAATk/8RwnBRknOJY/s72-c/Longo+Caminho.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-2440767462913170353</id><published>2010-06-11T17:23:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T17:50:49.586+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Rumo ao Pranto</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/TBJpTorgjEI/AAAAAAAAATU/qBb6klZQqCo/s1600/Rumo+ao+Pranto.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 236px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481559482521652290" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/TBJpTorgjEI/AAAAAAAAATU/qBb6klZQqCo/s320/Rumo+ao+Pranto.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Vi lágrimas a murmurar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Do ermo silêncio da partida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Vi, não minto, o coração a derramar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Pelo sentimento da despedida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Senti o nascer do vento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Tilintar o rosto molhado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Secava a face do tormento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Do cair choroso do fado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Contemplei, a cada passo, as lembranças&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Clamei, em mim, significados vividos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Desejei, do meu vazio, as esperanças&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Dos momentos que serão revividos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Só, na deriva do meu ser,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Faleci do choro interior&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Sonhei voltar a ver&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Sonhei não o perder em dor...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Olhei o cinzento céu em mágoa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Incrivel! Até de tristeza vive este véu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Que sem sofrimento verte sua água&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;E faz do meu sentimento seu réu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Haveria mais lágrima por criar?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Quanto mais me vejo escrever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Mais me sinto por chorar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;09/06/10&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-2440767462913170353?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/2440767462913170353/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/06/rumo-ao-pranto.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2440767462913170353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2440767462913170353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/06/rumo-ao-pranto.html' title='Rumo ao Pranto'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/TBJpTorgjEI/AAAAAAAAATU/qBb6klZQqCo/s72-c/Rumo+ao+Pranto.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-9057020072401186867</id><published>2010-05-21T13:46:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-28T12:14:54.348+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Um em Mil</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S_aBEheowNI/AAAAAAAAAS8/0YpRwElJuTk/s1600/Um+em+Mil.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473704311821746386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S_aBEheowNI/AAAAAAAAAS8/0YpRwElJuTk/s320/Um+em+Mil.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Tenho mil e um vícios&lt;br /&gt;Mas nenhum dos mil são ofícios.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-9057020072401186867?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/9057020072401186867/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/05/um-em-mil.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/9057020072401186867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/9057020072401186867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/05/um-em-mil.html' title='Um em Mil'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S_aBEheowNI/AAAAAAAAAS8/0YpRwElJuTk/s72-c/Um+em+Mil.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-5218691577039259018</id><published>2010-05-21T13:37:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T13:42:12.779+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Assim o Serei</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S_Z_QKPrRjI/AAAAAAAAAS0/btMexS5SrLs/s1600/Assim+o+Serei.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473702312720156210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S_Z_QKPrRjI/AAAAAAAAAS0/btMexS5SrLs/s320/Assim+o+Serei.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Haverá algo a dizer?&lt;br /&gt;Algo a sentir que não seja?&lt;br /&gt;A aldrabar sem se ver&lt;br /&gt;Sem contemplar vazio que não se veja&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haverá culpa sem razão?&lt;br /&gt;Nesta vida que morre lentamente&lt;br /&gt;Como um fósforo em sua combustão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seria sexto sentido superior?&lt;br /&gt;Levando aos caminhos da perfeição&lt;br /&gt;Como seres sem campas nem amor!&lt;br /&gt;Nas trevas da vingança pela paixão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haveria lembrança a lembrar,&lt;br /&gt;O que nada somos ou seremos?&lt;br /&gt;Eu morria por dia a tentar,&lt;br /&gt;Antes do rumo nos levar,&lt;br /&gt;A vida caminhante em que todos morreremos!&lt;br /&gt;Eu morreria mil vezes a amar,&lt;br /&gt;Em vez de infinito ser de primor e perfeição,&lt;br /&gt;De cada passo dado poder dizer e clamar&lt;br /&gt;Que sou eu honra do Olimpo e orgulho-me de razão!&lt;br /&gt;Sou e serei, na minha maré, mente que dirá um mero não&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto for eu terei sempre o pensamento e uma conclusão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14/05/10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-5218691577039259018?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/5218691577039259018/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/05/assim-o-serei.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5218691577039259018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5218691577039259018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/05/assim-o-serei.html' title='Assim o Serei'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S_Z_QKPrRjI/AAAAAAAAAS0/btMexS5SrLs/s72-c/Assim+o+Serei.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-4639876342667707235</id><published>2010-05-12T14:08:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T14:12:40.876+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Silêncio Directo</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S-qpGv86qfI/AAAAAAAAASs/WbZTZQMWvOk/s1600/Sil%C3%AAncio+Directo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470370630811167218" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S-qpGv86qfI/AAAAAAAAASs/WbZTZQMWvOk/s320/Sil%C3%AAncio+Directo.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Será que tenho feito?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Feito sem pensar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Ou, outrora, sem jeito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Num jeito julgar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Este feito sem jeito&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Que me tormenta a contemplar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Será que se diz que fiz?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Fiz por ver no espelho do ser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Que ao ver fui o que se diz.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Não que por reflexos seja ser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Mas na questão de ver&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Ainda sou o ente que me fiz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Ou, outrora, será que se diz que fiz?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Infelizmente ninguém mo diz!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;--/--/10&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-4639876342667707235?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/4639876342667707235/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/05/silencio-directo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/4639876342667707235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/4639876342667707235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/05/silencio-directo.html' title='Silêncio Directo'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S-qpGv86qfI/AAAAAAAAASs/WbZTZQMWvOk/s72-c/Sil%C3%AAncio+Directo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-4669135700680908162</id><published>2010-05-12T13:51:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T13:56:08.178+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ocasião a Descrever</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S-qlO-Q7rtI/AAAAAAAAASk/4ZPecdcbVt8/s1600/Ocasi%C3%A3o+a+Descrever.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470366374045658834" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S-qlO-Q7rtI/AAAAAAAAASk/4ZPecdcbVt8/s320/Ocasi%C3%A3o+a+Descrever.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Parece que foi ontem…céus!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Aquela paisagem de saudade,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;O horizonte ondulante em véus,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Ao som do lindíssimo chilrear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Dos pássaros entre a folhagem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Numa manhã fresca de fazer amar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Do toque amável da aragem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Na minha incrédula palidez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Relembrava os momentos mudos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Sobre as flechas de ouro se fez&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Os dias passados…só e surdos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;27/02/10&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Amândio Lopes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-4669135700680908162?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/4669135700680908162/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/05/ocasiao-descrever.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/4669135700680908162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/4669135700680908162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/05/ocasiao-descrever.html' title='Ocasião a Descrever'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S-qlO-Q7rtI/AAAAAAAAASk/4ZPecdcbVt8/s72-c/Ocasi%C3%A3o+a+Descrever.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-3050915570492744426</id><published>2010-05-07T11:44:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T11:56:44.568+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sem Eixo No Senso</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S-Px2qrpAdI/AAAAAAAAASc/qjQAGpTt9D8/s1600/qw12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468480294030475730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S-Px2qrpAdI/AAAAAAAAASc/qjQAGpTt9D8/s320/qw12.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Sinto a oculta adrenalina&lt;br /&gt;Consumir por prazer a vontade&lt;br /&gt;Desleixo o crer pela sina&lt;br /&gt;Ao fingir a razão na saudade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deixo o sentido ser&lt;br /&gt;Por alma de cerrar&lt;br /&gt;Nunca tive por colher&lt;br /&gt;O pensamento de acabar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--/04/10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-3050915570492744426?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/3050915570492744426/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/05/sem-eixo-no-senso.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/3050915570492744426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/3050915570492744426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/05/sem-eixo-no-senso.html' title='Sem Eixo No Senso'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S-Px2qrpAdI/AAAAAAAAASc/qjQAGpTt9D8/s72-c/qw12.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-6061159895183274664</id><published>2010-04-23T14:15:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-23T14:33:25.600+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Algo a Citar</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S9GhPASsajI/AAAAAAAAASU/d4_Pmo8c-Qs/s1600/3914572606_167220991a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463325102125640242" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S9GhPASsajI/AAAAAAAAASU/d4_Pmo8c-Qs/s320/3914572606_167220991a.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A imagem é o usar da escolha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A justificação do objectivo é a razão da mente Feita.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;O desejo é movido para o conhecimento a determinar da sua fonte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;23/04/10&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-6061159895183274664?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/6061159895183274664/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/04/algo-citar.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/6061159895183274664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/6061159895183274664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/04/algo-citar.html' title='Algo a Citar'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S9GhPASsajI/AAAAAAAAASU/d4_Pmo8c-Qs/s72-c/3914572606_167220991a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-2897098623902571734</id><published>2010-03-11T14:39:00.003Z</published><updated>2010-03-11T14:43:26.901Z</updated><title type='text'>O Surdo Momento</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S5kA_PpcSQI/AAAAAAAAASE/E7qCualmcLg/s1600-h/ws_Rising_Moon_1680x1050.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447386310813436162" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S5kA_PpcSQI/AAAAAAAAASE/E7qCualmcLg/s320/ws_Rising_Moon_1680x1050.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Fumo o meu &lt;em&gt;cigarette&lt;/em&gt; a contemplar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;O conhecimento pelo desenvolvimento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Será verdade que estou a fumar?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Ou, será a combustão do pensamento?&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Cada conceito por concreto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;No cintilante jeito esperto…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Da severa mente verto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Cada feito num mero certo.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;As letras são perfume secreto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Para quê crer no poeta concreto?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;11/03/2010&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-2897098623902571734?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/2897098623902571734/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/03/o-surdo-momento.html#comment-form' title='7 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2897098623902571734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2897098623902571734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/03/o-surdo-momento.html' title='O Surdo Momento'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S5kA_PpcSQI/AAAAAAAAASE/E7qCualmcLg/s72-c/ws_Rising_Moon_1680x1050.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-5471880276260057940</id><published>2010-02-24T09:48:00.003Z</published><updated>2010-02-24T10:03:26.972Z</updated><title type='text'>Fora de Mim</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S4T5XmqJwCI/AAAAAAAAAR0/SHVPpZ_yHp4/s1600-h/absinto_03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 262px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441748433680056354" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S4T5XmqJwCI/AAAAAAAAAR0/SHVPpZ_yHp4/s320/absinto_03.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Tragam o absinto!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Mais uns fortes &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tragos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;E minto ao que sinto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Acabo comigo nos vagos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Sem nada ou ninguém&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Quero mais um ou dois &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tragos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Que já me vejo como alguém.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN: 0cm 0cm 0pt" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-5471880276260057940?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/5471880276260057940/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/02/fora-de-mim.html#comment-form' title='8 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5471880276260057940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5471880276260057940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/02/fora-de-mim.html' title='Fora de Mim'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S4T5XmqJwCI/AAAAAAAAAR0/SHVPpZ_yHp4/s72-c/absinto_03.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-4175531371802624236</id><published>2010-02-09T15:00:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-02-09T15:11:43.799Z</updated><title type='text'>Algo Sem o Ser</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S3F7HlHIUkI/AAAAAAAAARk/8ZvlbTIX_Is/s1600-h/ws_Peace_at_Last_1680x1050.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436261595364217410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S3F7HlHIUkI/AAAAAAAAARk/8ZvlbTIX_Is/s320/ws_Peace_at_Last_1680x1050.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Não sei se será ou se nada é!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Do palmo em punho à mão de semear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Faz a mente por remar contra o ar da maré...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-4175531371802624236?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/4175531371802624236/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/02/algo-sem-o-ser.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/4175531371802624236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/4175531371802624236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/02/algo-sem-o-ser.html' title='Algo Sem o Ser'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S3F7HlHIUkI/AAAAAAAAARk/8ZvlbTIX_Is/s72-c/ws_Peace_at_Last_1680x1050.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-2839875634256209952</id><published>2010-01-15T17:40:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-01-15T17:56:40.653Z</updated><title type='text'>Num Abraço? Encontro-te</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S1CrEmu9igI/AAAAAAAAARE/ufHNHdgo3pI/s1600-h/Num+Abra%C3%A7o+Encontro-te.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 230px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427025646586792450" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S1CrEmu9igI/AAAAAAAAARE/ufHNHdgo3pI/s320/Num+Abra%C3%A7o+Encontro-te.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Perco-me num abraço.&lt;br /&gt;Num dar de mão&lt;br /&gt;Num toque que faço&lt;br /&gt;Numa despedida de solidão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ter olhos de olhar&lt;br /&gt;Ter terra, quem sabe o céu,&lt;br /&gt;Ter vida e amar&lt;br /&gt;Ser vida em nuvens de véu&lt;br /&gt;E num dia sonhar…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É um abraço&lt;br /&gt;Este gesto que faço&lt;br /&gt;Será um abraço&lt;br /&gt;Seguro como aço?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23/08/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-2839875634256209952?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/2839875634256209952/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/01/num-abraco-encontro-te.html#comment-form' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2839875634256209952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2839875634256209952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/01/num-abraco-encontro-te.html' title='Num Abraço? Encontro-te'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S1CrEmu9igI/AAAAAAAAARE/ufHNHdgo3pI/s72-c/Num+Abra%C3%A7o+Encontro-te.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-5577449251489794735</id><published>2010-01-15T17:32:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-01-15T17:37:00.282Z</updated><title type='text'>São Passos Do Caminho</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S1CncTle7NI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/1HodvytIJJc/s1600-h/S%C3%A3o+Passos+Do+Caminho.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427021655717113042" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S1CncTle7NI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/1HodvytIJJc/s320/S%C3%A3o+Passos+Do+Caminho.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A vida é livre de saber.&lt;br /&gt;Por mais que se caminhe&lt;br /&gt;Acaba-se sempre por sofrer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A vida é estranha e incorrecta&lt;br /&gt;Por vezes só&lt;br /&gt;Mas sempre incompleta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não é menos vida&lt;br /&gt;É mais desejo de experiência&lt;br /&gt;Não são estradas e idas&lt;br /&gt;Nem sonhos nem incompetência&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não é o que em nós cresceu&lt;br /&gt;Não será o que alguém traz&lt;br /&gt;Não é existência! Sou eu…&lt;br /&gt;Que senti o que a vida faz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10/08/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-5577449251489794735?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/5577449251489794735/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/01/sao-passos-do-caminho.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5577449251489794735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5577449251489794735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/01/sao-passos-do-caminho.html' title='São Passos Do Caminho'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S1CncTle7NI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/1HodvytIJJc/s72-c/S%C3%A3o+Passos+Do+Caminho.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-4554840347219886525</id><published>2010-01-15T17:23:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-01-15T17:26:38.582Z</updated><title type='text'>Alguma Vontade</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S1ClBMeAykI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/5FZ_vtw3IoU/s1600-h/Alguma+Vontade.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427018990927006274" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S1ClBMeAykI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/5FZ_vtw3IoU/s320/Alguma+Vontade.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;É por intuição o que escrevo&lt;br /&gt;É, porque assim o sinto&lt;br /&gt;É, pois claro, não o devo&lt;br /&gt;Sai óbvio. Não minto!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isto que cresce&lt;br /&gt;Talvez, quem sabe, jamais esmorece.&lt;br /&gt;Instinto que merece&lt;br /&gt;Solto de punho forte&lt;br /&gt;Confiante…não é sorte!&lt;br /&gt;Nem corre pela morte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ó aparecida vontade&lt;br /&gt;És o meu poço&lt;br /&gt;És a minha verdade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11/10/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-4554840347219886525?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/4554840347219886525/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/01/alguma-vontade.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/4554840347219886525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/4554840347219886525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/01/alguma-vontade.html' title='Alguma Vontade'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S1ClBMeAykI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/5FZ_vtw3IoU/s72-c/Alguma+Vontade.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-6267492328924484167</id><published>2010-01-09T16:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-01-09T17:01:05.639Z</updated><title type='text'>Haveria Algo Numa Ponte</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S0i2Ousut0I/AAAAAAAAAP0/8lAf9C-K4Lk/s1600-h/Haveria+Algo+Numa+Ponte.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 256px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424786115337828162" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S0i2Ousut0I/AAAAAAAAAP0/8lAf9C-K4Lk/s320/Haveria+Algo+Numa+Ponte.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Há uma distância que me separa&lt;br /&gt;Como um vasto rio sem ponte&lt;br /&gt;Esta agudeza que nunca me ampara&lt;br /&gt;Desta entidade sem água nem fonte…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sou clamado por clamar na miséria&lt;br /&gt;Na lástima clamo pelo que sou!&lt;br /&gt;Vou chamando a vida por séria&lt;br /&gt;Em séria clama sem ida que vou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sou algures algo sem saber&lt;br /&gt;O que vem e vai em mim?&lt;br /&gt;Um ente vago sem querer,&lt;br /&gt;Este querer sem nada ser,&lt;br /&gt;Que se plantou no algo assim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;02/12/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-6267492328924484167?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/6267492328924484167/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/01/haveria-algo-numa-ponte.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/6267492328924484167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/6267492328924484167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2010/01/haveria-algo-numa-ponte.html' title='Haveria Algo Numa Ponte'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/S0i2Ousut0I/AAAAAAAAAP0/8lAf9C-K4Lk/s72-c/Haveria+Algo+Numa+Ponte.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-2515580097622842978</id><published>2009-12-11T16:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-13T14:48:38.904Z</updated><title type='text'>Casa dos Clamores</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SyJ0HTdsyKI/AAAAAAAAAPk/BSgRvo2WJPw/s1600-h/Casa+dos+Clamores.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414017370885507234" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SyJ0HTdsyKI/AAAAAAAAAPk/BSgRvo2WJPw/s320/Casa+dos+Clamores.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Este cântico mudo&lt;br /&gt;Estende as cordas vocais…&lt;br /&gt;Só ao me sentir surdo&lt;br /&gt;Que me encontro sem sentido&lt;br /&gt;A engolir tons instrumentais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cofiando a barba, sereno no vagar,&lt;br /&gt;Sentado, a prezar este soirée, em espera&lt;br /&gt;Das deleitosas olhadelas a contemplar.&lt;br /&gt;Vou admirando a senhora Vera!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suas ancas curvam nas caminhadas&lt;br /&gt;Como um baloiço em curtas idas&lt;br /&gt;Seus olhos verdes de temporadas&lt;br /&gt;(Dos delicados campos primaveris)&lt;br /&gt;Do seu rosto, reflexos de vidas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, Vera…&lt;br /&gt;Que toque mágico provas;&lt;br /&gt;Das cantigas derivas&lt;br /&gt;Do fado não saís&lt;br /&gt;Sem ti, onde estão os &lt;em&gt;vivas&lt;/em&gt;?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma casa de fados traz voz&lt;br /&gt;Voz em que se derrete num final&lt;br /&gt;Final que se aplaude até à foz&lt;br /&gt;Foz que se ecoa num timbre tal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11/12/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amândio Lopes&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-2515580097622842978?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/2515580097622842978/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/12/casa-dos-clamores.html#comment-form' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2515580097622842978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2515580097622842978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/12/casa-dos-clamores.html' title='Casa dos Clamores'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SyJ0HTdsyKI/AAAAAAAAAPk/BSgRvo2WJPw/s72-c/Casa+dos+Clamores.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-3134597754407865020</id><published>2009-12-07T17:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-07T18:13:08.426Z</updated><title type='text'>Vasto é Lorun</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sx1Dbi1edyI/AAAAAAAAAPc/R0FCa6PNuS8/s1600-h/w44_01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412556467655833378" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sx1Dbi1edyI/AAAAAAAAAPc/R0FCa6PNuS8/s320/w44_01.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Julguei&lt;/span&gt; julgando um jogo que julgava, deveras, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;fantástico&lt;/span&gt;! Sentido de palavras...é engraçado. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Os nervos dificultam, o que aconteceu? Perdi! Mas, de facto, eu sei que vou ganhar para a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;próxima&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;07/12/09&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-3134597754407865020?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/3134597754407865020/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/12/vasto-e-lorun.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/3134597754407865020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/3134597754407865020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/12/vasto-e-lorun.html' title='Vasto é Lorun'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sx1Dbi1edyI/AAAAAAAAAPc/R0FCa6PNuS8/s72-c/w44_01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-3611658827082628981</id><published>2009-11-28T19:22:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-11-28T19:40:02.059Z</updated><title type='text'>Ecos Ao Mar</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SxF8ggqexvI/AAAAAAAAAPU/NbwEDBL6CgU/s1600/Ecos+Ao+Mar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409241525414446834" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SxF8ggqexvI/AAAAAAAAAPU/NbwEDBL6CgU/s320/Ecos+Ao+Mar.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Não são verdes campos&lt;br /&gt;São campos vestidos de anil;&lt;br /&gt;Destes que berram amplos&lt;br /&gt;Destes que bramam vil.&lt;br /&gt;Mudei meus cantos,&lt;br /&gt;Estou só ao clamar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vejo nuvens cavalgantes&lt;br /&gt;Sob este imenso mar&lt;br /&gt;São pinturas andantes&lt;br /&gt;Que sucedem sem lugar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contemplo esta infinidade&lt;br /&gt;Inspirando o sabor salgado&lt;br /&gt;Avisto o sol com saudade&lt;br /&gt;Admiro o reflexo desejado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28/11/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-3611658827082628981?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/3611658827082628981/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/11/ecos-ao-mar.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/3611658827082628981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/3611658827082628981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/11/ecos-ao-mar.html' title='Ecos Ao Mar'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SxF8ggqexvI/AAAAAAAAAPU/NbwEDBL6CgU/s72-c/Ecos+Ao+Mar.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-188230682164179918</id><published>2009-11-28T16:57:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-11-28T16:59:33.162Z</updated><title type='text'>Nada Sentido No Lorun</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SxFW4ZALW5I/AAAAAAAAAPM/PH-FpHyjLTw/s1600/Nada+Sentido+Do+Lorun.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409200154232970130" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SxFW4ZALW5I/AAAAAAAAAPM/PH-FpHyjLTw/s320/Nada+Sentido+Do+Lorun.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Um sentido sem nada&lt;br /&gt;Nada um sem sentido&lt;br /&gt;Sem um sentido nada&lt;br /&gt;Um sem nada sentido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;?/11/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-188230682164179918?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/188230682164179918/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/11/nada-sentido-no-lorun.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/188230682164179918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/188230682164179918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/11/nada-sentido-no-lorun.html' title='Nada Sentido No Lorun'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SxFW4ZALW5I/AAAAAAAAAPM/PH-FpHyjLTw/s72-c/Nada+Sentido+Do+Lorun.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-2716608464601089991</id><published>2009-11-09T16:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-11-09T16:58:35.070Z</updated><title type='text'>Ente Que É Gente</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; CLEAR: both" class="separator"&gt;&lt;a style="MARGIN-LEFT: 1em; MARGIN-RIGHT: 1em" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SvhIi-JuM_I/AAAAAAAAAO4/E4boVEopi2I/s1600-h/Ente+Que+%C3%89+Gente.jpg" imageanchor="1"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SvhIi-JuM_I/AAAAAAAAAO4/E4boVEopi2I/s320/Ente+Que+%C3%89+Gente.jpg" sr="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; BORDER-TOP: medium none; BORDER-RIGHT: medium none"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;É quem não esperava ser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;No meu escasso pardo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Esta alma fez antever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;A causa por que ardo.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;As lamúrias circundam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Ao brotar do acordar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;As lamúrias divulgam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;O irromper por amar&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Eclode ao emergir destas frases&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Como o sol que revive no futuro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Exclama minhas estranhas faces&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Ao ente que se concebeu duro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;09/11/09&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-2716608464601089991?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/2716608464601089991/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/11/ente-que-e-gente_09.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2716608464601089991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2716608464601089991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/11/ente-que-e-gente_09.html' title='Ente Que É Gente'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SvhIi-JuM_I/AAAAAAAAAO4/E4boVEopi2I/s72-c/Ente+Que+%C3%89+Gente.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-292765741478476198</id><published>2009-11-06T15:15:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-11-06T15:17:21.663Z</updated><title type='text'>Para Lá Do Céu</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SvQ9-6o5_vI/AAAAAAAAAOk/2m0tq07BLoM/s1600-h/Para+L%C3%A1+Do+C%C3%A9u+.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401010004226080498" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SvQ9-6o5_vI/AAAAAAAAAOk/2m0tq07BLoM/s320/Para+L%C3%A1+Do+C%C3%A9u+.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Claridade do luar&lt;br /&gt;Realça este cariz&lt;br /&gt;De oriundo lugar.&lt;br /&gt;Veste em feliz&lt;br /&gt;A chama ardente&lt;br /&gt;Acalma o infeliz&lt;br /&gt;Que se lhe aviva a mente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clareza num cetim lunar…&lt;br /&gt;Ecos mudos dos clamores&lt;br /&gt;Avista um sentido a clamar&lt;br /&gt;Ao cintilante Deus Eros&lt;br /&gt;Que se traga amores por amar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;06/11/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Amândio Lopes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-292765741478476198?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/292765741478476198/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/11/para-la-do-ceu.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/292765741478476198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/292765741478476198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/11/para-la-do-ceu.html' title='Para Lá Do Céu'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SvQ9-6o5_vI/AAAAAAAAAOk/2m0tq07BLoM/s72-c/Para+L%C3%A1+Do+C%C3%A9u+.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-281966761681915999</id><published>2009-11-04T22:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-11-04T22:24:55.447Z</updated><title type='text'>Achei Esta Clave</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SvH-8ZL208I/AAAAAAAAAOQ/7tjvzHGCayo/s1600-h/Achei+Esta+Clave.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 282px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400377741700158402" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SvH-8ZL208I/AAAAAAAAAOQ/7tjvzHGCayo/s320/Achei+Esta+Clave.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;De volta dos pensamentos&lt;br /&gt;Já pensei muito nas razões&lt;br /&gt;Julguei pelos sentimentos&lt;br /&gt;Confiei em plenas confeições&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ao torno de forçar&lt;br /&gt;Por dentro a fora&lt;br /&gt;Cobicei em achar&lt;br /&gt;O que me traz…&lt;br /&gt;Pela ideia da memória.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sinto a brisa a reflectir&lt;br /&gt;Se vou a passo intacto&lt;br /&gt;Não minto nesse ferir&lt;br /&gt;Do meu próximo facto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abro as portas sem chave&lt;br /&gt;É esta aragem a minha clave?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;04/11/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Amândio Lopes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-281966761681915999?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/281966761681915999/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/11/achei-esta-clave.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/281966761681915999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/281966761681915999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/11/achei-esta-clave.html' title='Achei Esta Clave'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SvH-8ZL208I/AAAAAAAAAOQ/7tjvzHGCayo/s72-c/Achei+Esta+Clave.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-6815403746115391263</id><published>2009-11-02T22:41:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-11-02T22:50:52.515Z</updated><title type='text'>Tive Pouco Por Vago</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Su9iL2VmaVI/AAAAAAAAAOI/8QLZUVq3M9M/s1600-h/Tive+Pouco+Por+Vago.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 234px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399642433944709458" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Su9iL2VmaVI/AAAAAAAAAOI/8QLZUVq3M9M/s320/Tive+Pouco+Por+Vago.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Tenho a dor vaga&lt;br /&gt;Que se deita em mim&lt;br /&gt;Aflui lenta e amarga&lt;br /&gt;O meu sono sem fim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tinha amor que ter&lt;br /&gt;Pensava, terno, eu!&lt;br /&gt;Perdi sem sequer o ver&lt;br /&gt;Ardor que se me envolveu…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;02/11/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-6815403746115391263?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/6815403746115391263/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/11/tive-pouco-por-vago.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/6815403746115391263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/6815403746115391263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/11/tive-pouco-por-vago.html' title='Tive Pouco Por Vago'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Su9iL2VmaVI/AAAAAAAAAOI/8QLZUVq3M9M/s72-c/Tive+Pouco+Por+Vago.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-5934365505114219312</id><published>2009-11-02T21:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-11-02T21:47:11.327Z</updated><title type='text'>Nos Sentidos Que Sinto</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Su9TSLDOVWI/AAAAAAAAAOA/yyIIzRggpGw/s1600-h/Nos+Sentidos+Que+Sinto.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Su9TSLDOVWI/AAAAAAAAAOA/yyIIzRggpGw/s1600-h/Nos+Sentidos+Que+Sinto.jpg"&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399626049909577058" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Su9TSLDOVWI/AAAAAAAAAOA/yyIIzRggpGw/s320/Nos+Sentidos+Que+Sinto.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Bebe o solo a minha água&lt;br /&gt;Pelas raízes do arvoredo&lt;br /&gt;Vejo sombras na sua mágoa&lt;br /&gt;Dos pardos arrepios de medo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nascente astro do luar&lt;br /&gt;Vens do poente horizonte&lt;br /&gt;Vens de incerto lugar…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sons da minha mente&lt;br /&gt;Ouvidos ocos aos ecos&lt;br /&gt;Tacto que me sente&lt;br /&gt;Nos sabores sem becos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;02/11/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-5934365505114219312?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/5934365505114219312/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/11/nos-sentidos-que-sinto.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5934365505114219312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5934365505114219312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/11/nos-sentidos-que-sinto.html' title='Nos Sentidos Que Sinto'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Su9TSLDOVWI/AAAAAAAAAOA/yyIIzRggpGw/s72-c/Nos+Sentidos+Que+Sinto.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-4931932720715591402</id><published>2009-10-30T15:57:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-10-30T16:03:06.855Z</updated><title type='text'>Há Mais Por Haver</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SusODUDfvVI/AAAAAAAAAN4/JL9Tt_4cb4M/s1600-h/H%C3%A1+Mais+Por+Haver.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 239px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398424028419439954" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SusODUDfvVI/AAAAAAAAAN4/JL9Tt_4cb4M/s320/H%C3%A1+Mais+Por+Haver.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Nunca há mais por haver&lt;br /&gt;Aquele alheio sentido&lt;br /&gt;Estranho mas puro ver&lt;br /&gt;Que me traz por sofrido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nunca há mais…quantia&lt;br /&gt;Que me faz um desabitado,&lt;br /&gt;Ficar atulhado ao dia,&lt;br /&gt;Será isto em demasia?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amado pela poesia&lt;br /&gt;Quem tem porção…&lt;br /&gt;É ave, quem diria&lt;br /&gt;É poeta por paixão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30/10/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-4931932720715591402?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/4931932720715591402/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/nunca-ha-mais-por-haver-aquele-alheio.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/4931932720715591402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/4931932720715591402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/nunca-ha-mais-por-haver-aquele-alheio.html' title='Há Mais Por Haver'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SusODUDfvVI/AAAAAAAAAN4/JL9Tt_4cb4M/s72-c/H%C3%A1+Mais+Por+Haver.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-7611685750455673157</id><published>2009-10-29T19:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-10-30T23:45:42.834Z</updated><title type='text'>Nos Remos Da Maré</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SunrWgaa_4I/AAAAAAAAANw/k6x4C8XUVOw/s1600-h/Nos+Remos+Da+Mar%C3%A9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 256px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398104400270655362" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SunrWgaa_4I/AAAAAAAAANw/k6x4C8XUVOw/s320/Nos+Remos+Da+Mar%C3%A9.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Sou cego, surdo e mudo&lt;br /&gt;Quem é o que apenas sou?&lt;br /&gt;Prego-me por um fundo&lt;br /&gt;O que nada me ficou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Era algo que nada foi&lt;br /&gt;Foi algo que nada é&lt;br /&gt;Sou criação do imaginário&lt;br /&gt;Sou ser da minha maré.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abro as portas para o ser&lt;br /&gt;Resvalo puro na letra&lt;br /&gt;Deixo dirigir este antever&lt;br /&gt;Pelo que no fim me entra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29/10/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-7611685750455673157?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/7611685750455673157/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/nos-remos-da-mare.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7611685750455673157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7611685750455673157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/nos-remos-da-mare.html' title='Nos Remos Da Maré'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SunrWgaa_4I/AAAAAAAAANw/k6x4C8XUVOw/s72-c/Nos+Remos+Da+Mar%C3%A9.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-4519812032228469218</id><published>2009-10-28T20:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-10-28T20:27:51.555Z</updated><title type='text'>Início Que Finte No Fim</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SuipPcqqUWI/AAAAAAAAANo/NTkttvB-DE0/s1600-h/In%C3%ADcio+Que+Finte+No+Fim.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 318px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397750236261798242" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SuipPcqqUWI/AAAAAAAAANo/NTkttvB-DE0/s320/In%C3%ADcio+Que+Finte+No+Fim.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Em que consiste o meu sentimento?&lt;br /&gt;Este que surge num sobressalto&lt;br /&gt;Que aflui e avança ao momento&lt;br /&gt;Esta mudez... virá ela do alto?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Consciência no ritmo anormal&lt;br /&gt;Vivência estranha mas normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É este o percurso que sigo&lt;br /&gt;Esta é a minha linha de sorte&lt;br /&gt;O que é meu vem comigo&lt;br /&gt;O resto que finte na morte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28/10/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-4519812032228469218?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/4519812032228469218/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/inicio-que-finte-no-fim.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/4519812032228469218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/4519812032228469218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/inicio-que-finte-no-fim.html' title='Início Que Finte No Fim'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SuipPcqqUWI/AAAAAAAAANo/NTkttvB-DE0/s72-c/In%C3%ADcio+Que+Finte+No+Fim.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-2475426547425920891</id><published>2009-10-26T16:09:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-10-26T16:16:58.844Z</updated><title type='text'>Lógica Criação de Alguém</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SuXLOT2oeiI/AAAAAAAAANY/kXex-TOf-zA/s1600-h/L%C3%B3gica+Cria%C3%A7%C3%A3o+de+Algu%C3%A9m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 308px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396943175181433378" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SuXLOT2oeiI/AAAAAAAAANY/kXex-TOf-zA/s320/L%C3%B3gica+Cria%C3%A7%C3%A3o+de+Algu%C3%A9m.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Falo sozinho. Não sei para quem…&lt;br /&gt;Murmuro somente, minha mente,&lt;br /&gt;Como converso coerente para uns cem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agarro firme e convincente&lt;br /&gt;Umas palavras sem sentido&lt;br /&gt;Convenci-me loucamente,&lt;br /&gt;Por onde me tenho metido?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Palestro sensato para ninguém&lt;br /&gt;Nesse acto...é para os tais!&lt;br /&gt;Ah, aqueles irreais animais&lt;br /&gt;Mas, e será que há alguém?&lt;br /&gt;Criações ocultas? Sei, sei se tem…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26/10/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-2475426547425920891?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/2475426547425920891/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/logica-criacao-de-alguem.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2475426547425920891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2475426547425920891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/logica-criacao-de-alguem.html' title='Lógica Criação de Alguém'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SuXLOT2oeiI/AAAAAAAAANY/kXex-TOf-zA/s72-c/L%C3%B3gica+Cria%C3%A7%C3%A3o+de+Algu%C3%A9m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-624031535746739669</id><published>2009-10-23T16:34:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T16:38:28.932+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Olhar Intenso</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SuHNxjw-HJI/AAAAAAAAANQ/ALpcYka3Bw8/s1600-h/Olhar+Intenso.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 251px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395820079864487058" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SuHNxjw-HJI/AAAAAAAAANQ/ALpcYka3Bw8/s320/Olhar+Intenso.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Fico preso num olhar intenso&lt;br /&gt;Contemplo um vazio nebuloso&lt;br /&gt;Consigo ouvir-me, sem senso,&lt;br /&gt;Algures, num bloquear receoso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A brisa corre as minhas feições&lt;br /&gt;Secando-me os olhos banhados&lt;br /&gt;Mas que transparentes ilusões&lt;br /&gt;Vêm de mim, meus obstinados.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23/10/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-624031535746739669?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/624031535746739669/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/olhar-intenso.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/624031535746739669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/624031535746739669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/olhar-intenso.html' title='Olhar Intenso'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SuHNxjw-HJI/AAAAAAAAANQ/ALpcYka3Bw8/s72-c/Olhar+Intenso.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-1161396429001155731</id><published>2009-10-19T16:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T16:11:03.630+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Atroz Mandamento</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/StyEXXE5KhI/AAAAAAAAANI/WHnZ5NXJY-A/s1600-h/Atroz+Mandamento.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 316px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394331990549408274" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/StyEXXE5KhI/AAAAAAAAANI/WHnZ5NXJY-A/s320/Atroz+Mandamento.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Atroz este batimento&lt;br /&gt;Fragoso este cerrar&lt;br /&gt;Coração do pensamento&lt;br /&gt;Punho de vingar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glória a agudeza&lt;br /&gt;Que levita no ar…&lt;br /&gt;Senhora condensa,&lt;br /&gt;Quem pensais tramar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forjar numa breve palavra&lt;br /&gt;Manda o oculto forjador!&lt;br /&gt;Confiante a mal tratar&lt;br /&gt;Quem se arma em condor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ardente chama lavra&lt;br /&gt;Um corpo desconhecido&lt;br /&gt;É uma cortesia negra&lt;br /&gt;Quem manda no vencido?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19/10/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-1161396429001155731?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/1161396429001155731/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/atroz-mandamento.html#comment-form' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1161396429001155731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1161396429001155731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/atroz-mandamento.html' title='Atroz Mandamento'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/StyEXXE5KhI/AAAAAAAAANI/WHnZ5NXJY-A/s72-c/Atroz+Mandamento.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-3991713734711224382</id><published>2009-10-15T19:32:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T20:31:52.112+01:00</updated><title type='text'>É! O Quê?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Std4oXyNFYI/AAAAAAAAANA/Kv1MEMR45EM/s1600-h/%C3%89!O+Qu%C3%AA.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 261px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392911713774146946" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Std4oXyNFYI/AAAAAAAAANA/Kv1MEMR45EM/s320/%C3%89!O+Qu%C3%AA.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Há algo que nada me deu&lt;br /&gt;Se por haver não lhe mereceu&lt;br /&gt;Que algo serei eu?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Num existir aldrabão&lt;br /&gt;Subsisto receoso&lt;br /&gt;Que diabo de ilusão&lt;br /&gt;Se tornou vicioso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15/10/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-3991713734711224382?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/3991713734711224382/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/e-o-que.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/3991713734711224382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/3991713734711224382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/e-o-que.html' title='É! O Quê?'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Std4oXyNFYI/AAAAAAAAANA/Kv1MEMR45EM/s72-c/%C3%89!O+Qu%C3%AA.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-1416265922951790421</id><published>2009-10-14T18:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T18:12:18.371+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Abraço um Acordar? Será…</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/StYGS6mGNFI/AAAAAAAAAMo/7_P6-0wDrh4/s1600-h/Abra%C3%A7o+um+Acordar+Ser%C3%A1...jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392504525859206226" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/StYGS6mGNFI/AAAAAAAAAMo/7_P6-0wDrh4/s320/Abra%C3%A7o+um+Acordar+Ser%C3%A1...jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Abraço severo um olhar&lt;br /&gt;Largo suave um vazio&lt;br /&gt;Fico somente a contemplar&lt;br /&gt;Um estranho arrepio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acordo de um pesadelo&lt;br /&gt;Levando as mãos ao cabelo…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amanhece neste lugar&lt;br /&gt;Secando a geada fina&lt;br /&gt;Será um abandonar?&lt;br /&gt;Que envolve a minha sina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Descontente sorriso forçado&lt;br /&gt;De uma verdade mentirosa&lt;br /&gt;Quem será o tal bastardo?&lt;br /&gt;Que deixou morrer esta rosa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14/10/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-1416265922951790421?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/1416265922951790421/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/abraco-um-acordar-sera.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1416265922951790421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1416265922951790421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/abraco-um-acordar-sera.html' title='Abraço um Acordar? Será…'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/StYGS6mGNFI/AAAAAAAAAMo/7_P6-0wDrh4/s72-c/Abra%C3%A7o+um+Acordar+Ser%C3%A1...jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-77316166102465140</id><published>2009-10-13T15:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T16:00:07.492+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Vive e Morre</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/StSV7lK0U0I/AAAAAAAAAMg/lPgaDZr66Qg/s1600-h/Vive+e+Morre.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 215px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392099504691630914" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/StSV7lK0U0I/AAAAAAAAAMg/lPgaDZr66Qg/s320/Vive+e+Morre.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Por entre a chuva chora&lt;br /&gt;Uma estranha solidão;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, onde será que mora?&lt;br /&gt;Essa flor oculta de paixão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vagueia ela infeliz.&lt;br /&gt;Há povo que conta:&lt;br /&gt;Que é moça aprendiz!&lt;br /&gt;Será que se consta?&lt;br /&gt;O que se diz…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por vezes o fim,&lt;br /&gt;De quem é estimado,&lt;br /&gt;Deixa na memória&lt;br /&gt;Um início inacabado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não é única que me ocorre&lt;br /&gt;Muito menos vive ou morre…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13/10/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-77316166102465140?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/77316166102465140/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/vive-e-morre_13.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/77316166102465140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/77316166102465140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/vive-e-morre_13.html' title='Vive e Morre'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/StSV7lK0U0I/AAAAAAAAAMg/lPgaDZr66Qg/s72-c/Vive+e+Morre.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-6143738509505309055</id><published>2009-10-11T20:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T20:35:55.605+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Eram Olhos Vivos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/StIzlLfI-zI/AAAAAAAAAMM/kWR1gmhM350/s1600-h/Eram+Olhos+Vivos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 252px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391428417747483442" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/StIzlLfI-zI/AAAAAAAAAMM/kWR1gmhM350/s320/Eram+Olhos+Vivos.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Olhos azuis afogados em tristeza&lt;br /&gt;Olhos azuis que parecem névoas&lt;br /&gt;São apenas olhos sem a sua beleza&lt;br /&gt;Estes olhos debaixo de tréguas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eram tudo quando viam!&lt;br /&gt;E continuam a ver…&lt;br /&gt;Mas perderam a sua cor&lt;br /&gt;Porque um dia fizeram sofrer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que anil morto se tornaram&lt;br /&gt;E que lágrimas derramaram.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18/07/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-6143738509505309055?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/6143738509505309055/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/eram-olhos-vivos.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/6143738509505309055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/6143738509505309055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/eram-olhos-vivos.html' title='Eram Olhos Vivos'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/StIzlLfI-zI/AAAAAAAAAMM/kWR1gmhM350/s72-c/Eram+Olhos+Vivos.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-7881128415305369950</id><published>2009-10-09T16:39:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T17:07:53.565+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O Que Se Espera</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Ss9fxVOv4DI/AAAAAAAAAME/Jf9wWMM2nPs/s1600-h/O+que+se+Espera.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 230px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390632580103004210" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Ss9fxVOv4DI/AAAAAAAAAME/Jf9wWMM2nPs/s320/O+que+se+Espera.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bem-querer&lt;br /&gt;E nada prever&lt;br /&gt;Ser, ou vago?&lt;br /&gt;Nisto…&lt;br /&gt;Nada vos trago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;09/10/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-7881128415305369950?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/7881128415305369950/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/o-que-se-espera.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7881128415305369950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7881128415305369950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/o-que-se-espera.html' title='O Que Se Espera'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Ss9fxVOv4DI/AAAAAAAAAME/Jf9wWMM2nPs/s72-c/O+que+se+Espera.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-8876845069187270763</id><published>2009-10-07T19:45:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T19:51:38.234+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Respirar A Chama</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SszjDSC8ShI/AAAAAAAAALc/L9Jifib7Mk4/s1600-h/Respirar+A+Chama.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 212px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389932499578931730" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SszjDSC8ShI/AAAAAAAAALc/L9Jifib7Mk4/s320/Respirar+A+Chama.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Vai brotando à medida que escrevo&lt;br /&gt;Renascendo na vontade interior;&lt;br /&gt;Instinto de um mero trevo&lt;br /&gt;Que me traz a este mundo inferior&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vou calculando cada passo dado&lt;br /&gt;Sem ter que contemplar o chão.&lt;br /&gt;Vou sereno para ser amado&lt;br /&gt;Por alguém que alenta paixão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aguardo estes segundos&lt;br /&gt;Os tempos de fundos…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;07/10/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-8876845069187270763?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/8876845069187270763/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/respirar-chama.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/8876845069187270763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/8876845069187270763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/respirar-chama.html' title='Respirar A Chama'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SszjDSC8ShI/AAAAAAAAALc/L9Jifib7Mk4/s72-c/Respirar+A+Chama.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-5532628444814483042</id><published>2009-10-02T13:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T16:34:06.239+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A Tela Descrita</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SsYdYsynCUI/AAAAAAAAALM/hVzkWuSX5n0/s1600-h/A+Tela+Descrita.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 220px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388026314372876610" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SsYdYsynCUI/AAAAAAAAALM/hVzkWuSX5n0/s320/A+Tela+Descrita.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Traço linhas na tela&lt;br /&gt;Desenvolvo com cores quentes&lt;br /&gt;Surge o que há de belo nela&lt;br /&gt;Por entre veras mentes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alcanço um rosto delicado&lt;br /&gt;De uns olhos sensíveis&lt;br /&gt;Ocupo o branco oscilado&lt;br /&gt;Em pinceladas perdíveis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Completo esta pintura&lt;br /&gt;Com uma breve assinatura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;02/10/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-5532628444814483042?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/5532628444814483042/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/tela-descrita.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5532628444814483042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5532628444814483042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/tela-descrita.html' title='A Tela Descrita'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SsYdYsynCUI/AAAAAAAAALM/hVzkWuSX5n0/s72-c/A+Tela+Descrita.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-1098856263384561326</id><published>2009-10-02T13:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T13:06:38.740+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Será Demente</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SsXsxYng0oI/AAAAAAAAALE/TiAdA_tB2kM/s1600-h/Ser%C3%A1+Demente.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 246px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387972862384591490" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SsXsxYng0oI/AAAAAAAAALE/TiAdA_tB2kM/s320/Ser%C3%A1+Demente.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Loucura é de loucos&lt;br /&gt;O que sorri para mim!&lt;br /&gt;Por vezes parece perto do fim&lt;br /&gt;O que de moucos&lt;br /&gt;Se aproxima do confim.&lt;br /&gt;Seria de doidos:&lt;br /&gt;Ser idiota ou nada ser?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26/07/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-1098856263384561326?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/1098856263384561326/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/sera-demente.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1098856263384561326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1098856263384561326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/10/sera-demente.html' title='Será Demente'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SsXsxYng0oI/AAAAAAAAALE/TiAdA_tB2kM/s72-c/Ser%C3%A1+Demente.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-8767318506390197913</id><published>2009-09-30T20:08:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T21:15:29.490+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Linhas Reflectidas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SsOs4fuUNkI/AAAAAAAAAK8/Ost7WACjJUc/s1600-h/Linhas+Reflectidas.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 218px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387339665853658690" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SsOs4fuUNkI/AAAAAAAAAK8/Ost7WACjJUc/s320/Linhas+Reflectidas.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Espelho quem sou?&lt;br /&gt;Dá-me a identidade&lt;br /&gt;Da verdade&lt;br /&gt;Que me ocultou.&lt;br /&gt;Dá-me a razão do reflexo&lt;br /&gt;Contrário e sem nexo&lt;br /&gt;Que me velou!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que vulto retracto&lt;br /&gt;Aparece sem tacto&lt;br /&gt;Mas descoberto&lt;br /&gt;De um invisível,&lt;br /&gt;Talvez, presumível...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É apenas um espelho&lt;br /&gt;Por fim…Quem sou?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30/09/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-8767318506390197913?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/8767318506390197913/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/09/linhas-reflectidas.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/8767318506390197913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/8767318506390197913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/09/linhas-reflectidas.html' title='Linhas Reflectidas'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SsOs4fuUNkI/AAAAAAAAAK8/Ost7WACjJUc/s72-c/Linhas+Reflectidas.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-1744552571847003458</id><published>2009-09-29T17:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T17:37:28.274+01:00</updated><title type='text'>E Se Cair…</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SsI3s8YCwdI/AAAAAAAAAKw/FF6J-ZFz3_A/s1600-h/E+Se+Cair...jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 230px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386929349549277650" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SsI3s8YCwdI/AAAAAAAAAKw/FF6J-ZFz3_A/s320/E+Se+Cair...jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Pode chover mundos!&lt;br /&gt;Lacrimejar existências&lt;br /&gt;A minha vida ir a fundos&lt;br /&gt;De certas &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;consequências&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pode cair o astro-rei.&lt;br /&gt;Que mesmo assim sei&lt;br /&gt;O que vai sair dos cristais&lt;br /&gt;Esses tais…&lt;br /&gt;Sem medos ou, quem sabe, vazio.&lt;br /&gt;Querer e merecer&lt;br /&gt;O que uma tal luz&lt;br /&gt;Me fez pronunciar:&lt;br /&gt;Viver é aprender e saber amar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29/09/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-1744552571847003458?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/1744552571847003458/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/09/e-se-cair.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1744552571847003458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1744552571847003458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/09/e-se-cair.html' title='E Se Cair…'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SsI3s8YCwdI/AAAAAAAAAKw/FF6J-ZFz3_A/s72-c/E+Se+Cair...jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-1131164645147757778</id><published>2009-09-29T16:17:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T16:24:49.240+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O Que Será?, se Nada É</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SsImpQKiAxI/AAAAAAAAAKg/Thx6grW-ZGk/s1600-h/O+Que+Ser%C3%A1,+se+Nada+%C3%89.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386910594444165906" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SsImpQKiAxI/AAAAAAAAAKg/Thx6grW-ZGk/s320/O+Que+Ser%C3%A1,+se+Nada+%C3%89.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Não sei o que sinto&lt;br /&gt;Nem sei se me minto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Algo da mente faz pensar&lt;br /&gt;Se um poeta escreve o que amarga&lt;br /&gt;O que escreve se nunca sonhar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parece um vazio interno&lt;br /&gt;Que se difunde…&lt;br /&gt;Não sei!&lt;br /&gt;Não minto&lt;br /&gt;Está cá dentro&lt;br /&gt;Porque o sinto?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31/07/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-1131164645147757778?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/1131164645147757778/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/09/o-que-sera-se-nada-e.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1131164645147757778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1131164645147757778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/09/o-que-sera-se-nada-e.html' title='O Que Será?, se Nada É'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SsImpQKiAxI/AAAAAAAAAKg/Thx6grW-ZGk/s72-c/O+Que+Ser%C3%A1,+se+Nada+%C3%89.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-6262431537425119515</id><published>2009-09-27T23:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T18:33:27.013+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Não Sei Se Algo É</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sr_wPbWKeRI/AAAAAAAAAKY/-xNwdmroQaI/s1600-h/janela%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 315px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386287827187824914" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sr_wPbWKeRI/AAAAAAAAAKY/-xNwdmroQaI/s320/janela%5B1%5D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Não se atiram palavras!&lt;br /&gt;Nem se contam histórias&lt;br /&gt;Não são poemas que lavras&lt;br /&gt;São medos de vitórias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não sei o que andei&lt;br /&gt;Nem sei se demorei a chegar&lt;br /&gt;Muito menos cobicei&lt;br /&gt;O que um dia me levou a honrar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não sou forte pela tua força!&lt;br /&gt;Força de canhões a pólvora&lt;br /&gt;Não é nada em mim que torça&lt;br /&gt;O que apenas em ti labora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;05/08/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-6262431537425119515?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/6262431537425119515/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/09/nao-sei-se-algo-e.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/6262431537425119515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/6262431537425119515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/09/nao-sei-se-algo-e.html' title='Não Sei Se Algo É'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sr_wPbWKeRI/AAAAAAAAAKY/-xNwdmroQaI/s72-c/janela%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-673484370231814635</id><published>2009-09-20T17:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T17:05:00.101+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O Que Invoca Em Mim</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SrZSd1o58uI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/TLi2Mepd3_Q/s1600-h/rt2-hi_0168.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SrZSd1o58uI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/TLi2Mepd3_Q/s320/rt2-hi_0168.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383581077136339682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Sinto a tua influência!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Avulta em mim como uma droga&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Desabrocha como uma fragrância&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Rebenta com tudo o que logra.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Ó melodia árdua!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;És a minha fonte por onde bebo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;És a minha noite na mágoa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;18/07/09&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-673484370231814635?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/673484370231814635/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/09/o-que-invoca-em-mim.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/673484370231814635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/673484370231814635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/09/o-que-invoca-em-mim.html' title='O Que Invoca Em Mim'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SrZSd1o58uI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/TLi2Mepd3_Q/s72-c/rt2-hi_0168.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-3698744276747549372</id><published>2009-09-20T16:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T16:58:41.389+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Relaxa Este Relaxante</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SrZRGl6kpBI/AAAAAAAAAKI/iXN8wbP_uz0/s1600-h/oq58.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 262px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SrZRGl6kpBI/AAAAAAAAAKI/iXN8wbP_uz0/s320/oq58.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383579578266854418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CFilipe%5CDEFINI%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:hyphenationzone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:595.3pt 841.9pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cá estou, mais uma vez a fumar um cigarro e para não quebrar a rotina. O cházinho, desta vez de camomila.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Estava a matutar por entre estes neurónios de fios e faíscas se, por acaso, este chá actuaria conforme referido na embalagem. “Relaxante” e, para mais um estranho detalhe, uma suposta mulher deitada. Não é que eu tenha alguma coisa contra essa esquisita figura, mas não seria melhor se estivesse mais sensualmente bem destacada de um corpo jeitoso? Não sei, digo eu! Mas, essa agora, voltando ao assunto do &lt;i style=""&gt;relax&lt;/i&gt;. Ora bem, tal como exposto sobre um resultado relaxante, se assim for, é a dobrar! E porquê? Porque o cigarro também tem um efeito semelhante. Não é por nada, mas estou na dúvida sobre esse problemático caso. Será mesmo? Ora porra! Estou um bocado indignado, mas não deve ser verdade… Está a dar-me o sono, e nem estou bêbado. Vou é deitar-me com ela. A minha almofada fofa e relaxante. Já mal sinto os dedos. Boa noite a todos.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Raios partam o chá!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;03/08/09&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-3698744276747549372?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/3698744276747549372/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/09/relaxa-este-relaxante.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/3698744276747549372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/3698744276747549372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/09/relaxa-este-relaxante.html' title='Relaxa Este Relaxante'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SrZRGl6kpBI/AAAAAAAAAKI/iXN8wbP_uz0/s72-c/oq58.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-3186528683961003908</id><published>2009-09-09T16:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T16:54:14.795+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Sério Ou Nada</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SqfPadsQxNI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/KqqewJkskh8/s1600-h/goodvision_what_you_want_uv.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 237px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SqfPadsQxNI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/KqqewJkskh8/s320/goodvision_what_you_want_uv.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379496333471171794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Pensei no pensamento.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Num sério desentendimento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Seria um breve tormento?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Este demente pensamento…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Não me traz contento!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;O que pensei eu?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Se nada me ocorreu…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26/07/09&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-3186528683961003908?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/3186528683961003908/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/09/serio-ou-nada.html#comment-form' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/3186528683961003908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/3186528683961003908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/09/serio-ou-nada.html' title='Sério Ou Nada'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SqfPadsQxNI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/KqqewJkskh8/s72-c/goodvision_what_you_want_uv.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-5057280595452440240</id><published>2009-09-09T16:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T18:13:56.617Z</updated><title type='text'>Aliança De Astros</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SqfNoz5r3OI/AAAAAAAAAJw/y1l0_H3Nq18/s1600-h/DSCF0391.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379494380927966434" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SqfNoz5r3OI/AAAAAAAAAJw/y1l0_H3Nq18/s320/DSCF0391.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;meta content="text/html; charset=utf-8" equiv="Content-Type"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CFilipe%5CDEFINI%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0cm; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:595.3pt 841.9pt; 	margin:70.85pt 3.0cm 70.85pt 3.0cm; 	mso-header-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-footer-margin:35.4pt; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-FAMILY: times new roman" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Sinto-te como quem ama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-FAMILY: times new roman" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Vejo-te cintilar num amanhecer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-FAMILY: times new roman" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Escuto por quem chama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-FAMILY: times new roman" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Um amor que não irá falecer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-FAMILY: times new roman" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-FAMILY: times new roman" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-FAMILY: times new roman" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Alianças são como astros!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-FAMILY: times new roman" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;E num barco em véu navegador&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-FAMILY: times new roman" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Sonhava contigo, meu primor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-FAMILY: times new roman" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-FAMILY: times new roman" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-FAMILY: times new roman" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;São versos que escrevo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-FAMILY: times new roman" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A pensar numa união&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-FAMILY: times new roman" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;És flor…quem sabe trevo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-FAMILY: times new roman" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Seja o que for&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-FAMILY: times new roman" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;És a minha afeição.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-FAMILY: times new roman" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-FAMILY: times new roman" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-FAMILY: times new roman" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;29/07/09&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="FONT-FAMILY: times new roman" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-5057280595452440240?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/5057280595452440240/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/09/alianca-de-astros.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5057280595452440240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5057280595452440240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/09/alianca-de-astros.html' title='Aliança De Astros'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SqfNoz5r3OI/AAAAAAAAAJw/y1l0_H3Nq18/s72-c/DSCF0391.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-8317152168725624093</id><published>2009-07-16T23:18:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T23:26:33.234+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Cascais Escrevo Para Ti</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sl-oFLI2L_I/AAAAAAAAAJo/Bmg738R-6Eo/s1600-h/Cascais+Escrevo+Para+Ti.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 245px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359186888436887538" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sl-oFLI2L_I/AAAAAAAAAJo/Bmg738R-6Eo/s320/Cascais+Escrevo+Para+Ti.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Sitio histórico que é Cascais&lt;br /&gt;Vivido de fantásticos contos&lt;br /&gt;Enorme será sempre teu cais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Das vistas é beijado em mar&lt;br /&gt;Beldades por tantos cantos&lt;br /&gt;Que noites lindas de luar&lt;br /&gt;São os teus imensos mantos…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas chega a hora das despedidas&lt;br /&gt;Que estas lágrimas por ti cantão&lt;br /&gt;Faço delas tuas convividas&lt;br /&gt;Cascais estarás no meu coração.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16/07/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed id="radioblog_player_-1" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="180" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#ECECEC" flashvars="id=-1&amp;amp;filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen2?u=0vMHZuV3bz9yZvxmYu8WakFmcvUHaucXduIXY6Nncpp3c/Janis%2520Joplin%2520-%2520Bye%252C%2520bye%2520baby.rbs&amp;amp;colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-8317152168725624093?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/8317152168725624093/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/07/cascais-escrevo-para-ti.html#comment-form' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/8317152168725624093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/8317152168725624093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/07/cascais-escrevo-para-ti.html' title='Cascais Escrevo Para Ti'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sl-oFLI2L_I/AAAAAAAAAJo/Bmg738R-6Eo/s72-c/Cascais+Escrevo+Para+Ti.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-1896168004454419275</id><published>2009-07-15T23:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T23:47:01.593+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Não Há Nada! Não Há Algo…</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sl5akUG5RuI/AAAAAAAAAJg/mCDHwEv-6Uw/s1600-h/N%C3%A3o+H%C3%A1+Nada!+N%C3%A3o+H%C3%A1+Algo%E2%80%A6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 293px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358820186536888034" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sl5akUG5RuI/AAAAAAAAAJg/mCDHwEv-6Uw/s320/N%C3%A3o+H%C3%A1+Nada!+N%C3%A3o+H%C3%A1+Algo%E2%80%A6.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Não há céu que me aceite!&lt;br /&gt;Não há inferno para mim&lt;br /&gt;Nem os meus olhos me querem,&lt;br /&gt;Nem as minhas palavras de cetim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afastem-se da minha mente!&lt;br /&gt;Sou uma pobre alma carente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apenas me fecho no pardo&lt;br /&gt;Onde me solto somente&lt;br /&gt;Fico quieto enquanto ardo&lt;br /&gt;Neste cerco do fim coerente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15/07/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed id="radioblog_player_-1" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="180" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#ECECEC" flashvars="id=-1&amp;amp;filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen2?u=18yck5WdvN3Ln9Gbi5ybpRWYy9icm5SZlJnZuEWZyFGdmVGZ/Velvet%2520Underground%2520-%2520Heroin.rbs&amp;amp;colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-1896168004454419275?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/1896168004454419275/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/07/nao-ha-nada-nao-ha-algo.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1896168004454419275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1896168004454419275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/07/nao-ha-nada-nao-ha-algo.html' title='Não Há Nada! Não Há Algo…'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sl5akUG5RuI/AAAAAAAAAJg/mCDHwEv-6Uw/s72-c/N%C3%A3o+H%C3%A1+Nada!+N%C3%A3o+H%C3%A1+Algo%E2%80%A6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-5907658147751186487</id><published>2009-07-15T01:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T01:44:47.298+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Um Pouco De Ale Lorun</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sl0lXkb5v1I/AAAAAAAAAJY/oOqcSeQfZ40/s1600-h/Um+Pouco+De+Ale+Lorun.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358480218488684370" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sl0lXkb5v1I/AAAAAAAAAJY/oOqcSeQfZ40/s320/Um+Pouco+De+Ale+Lorun.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Bebo lentamente a minha caipirinha, com algumas pedras de gelo neste belo copo, e claro, o entre dedos que solta o seu fumo de dança psicadélica. Nisto tudo, ocorre-me um pensamento: Ora foda-se! Muito clássico era enrodilhar uma, ai se era, já dizia o meu camarada Lúcio Ferro: “ No entanto, eu gosto de estar mocado, sabe-me bem, é bom para a higiene mental e faz-me rir”. Pois claro! A mim também, e neste momento, sinto essa fantástica frase a ecoar pelos meus neurónios. Sem dúvida, vou deitar-me…estou com uma puta em cima.&lt;br /&gt;Ai, ai…higiene mental.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15/07/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed id="radioblog_player_-1" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="180" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#ECECEC" flashvars="id=-1&amp;amp;filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen2?u=2wLzRmb192cvc2bsJmLvlGZhJ3Ln9Gbi9WakFmcvInZuUWZyZmLmFmclh2c/06%2520-%2520The%2520Doors%2520-%2520Alabame%2520Song%2520%2528Whisky%2520Bar%2529.rbs&amp;amp;colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-5907658147751186487?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/5907658147751186487/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/07/um-pouco-de-ale-lorun.html#comment-form' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5907658147751186487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5907658147751186487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/07/um-pouco-de-ale-lorun.html' title='Um Pouco De Ale Lorun'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sl0lXkb5v1I/AAAAAAAAAJY/oOqcSeQfZ40/s72-c/Um+Pouco+De+Ale+Lorun.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-7108709149353134065</id><published>2009-07-08T20:00:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T20:01:28.227+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Citação</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SlTtAVLJVMI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/UgTTktbWsP0/s1600-h/Cita%C3%A7%C3%A3o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 192px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356166446790038722" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SlTtAVLJVMI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/UgTTktbWsP0/s320/Cita%C3%A7%C3%A3o.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Não é senhor porque assim lhe chamam, não é poeta apenas porque escreve e dissimula sentimentos. O que será ele se não for o que lhe chamam?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27/06/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-7108709149353134065?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/7108709149353134065/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/07/citacao_08.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7108709149353134065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7108709149353134065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/07/citacao_08.html' title='Citação'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SlTtAVLJVMI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/UgTTktbWsP0/s72-c/Cita%C3%A7%C3%A3o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-6159920240460819508</id><published>2009-07-08T19:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T19:52:21.989+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Aldraba Antes Escrito</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SlTpPIFxPtI/AAAAAAAAAJI/gjCC-IIvdBo/s1600-h/Aldraba+Antes+Escrito.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 235px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356162302929354450" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SlTpPIFxPtI/AAAAAAAAAJI/gjCC-IIvdBo/s320/Aldraba+Antes+Escrito.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Escrevo em ti branca folha!&lt;br /&gt;Escrevo enquanto bebo as letras&lt;br /&gt;Letras que ninguém olha,&lt;br /&gt;Nem ninguém molha um sorriso,&lt;br /&gt;Dessas letras sem aparente siso.&lt;br /&gt;Escrevo em ti papel, quem olha?&lt;br /&gt;Nem contento quando iludo&lt;br /&gt;Nem destilo enquanto contento&lt;br /&gt;Se nem sei mentir&lt;br /&gt;Porque mente minha palavra,&lt;br /&gt;De mentiroso que lavra o pesaroso?&lt;br /&gt;Porque convenço quem lê a folha?&lt;br /&gt;Se a folha ainda está por redigir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;08/07/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed id="radioblog_player_-1" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="180" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#ECECEC" flashvars="id=-1&amp;amp;filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen2?u=2wLzRmb192cv8WakFmcv4Sdo5iclB3bvxmL3d3d/1817%2520-%2520%2528John%2520Hartford%2529%2520Indian%2520War%2520Whoop%2520%2528instrumental%2529.rbs&amp;amp;colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-6159920240460819508?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/6159920240460819508/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/07/escrevo-em-ti-branca-folha-escrevo.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/6159920240460819508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/6159920240460819508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/07/escrevo-em-ti-branca-folha-escrevo.html' title='Aldraba Antes Escrito'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SlTpPIFxPtI/AAAAAAAAAJI/gjCC-IIvdBo/s72-c/Aldraba+Antes+Escrito.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-3911967031778984891</id><published>2009-07-05T21:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T21:28:38.463+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Citação</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SlEM5mlBbgI/AAAAAAAAAJA/WdpC5LXAB-0/s1600-h/Cita%C3%A7%C3%A3o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 192px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355075615668137474" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SlEM5mlBbgI/AAAAAAAAAJA/WdpC5LXAB-0/s320/Cita%C3%A7%C3%A3o.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;O que a letra sente o poeta consente dela…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27/06/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-3911967031778984891?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/3911967031778984891/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/07/citacao.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/3911967031778984891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/3911967031778984891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/07/citacao.html' title='Citação'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SlEM5mlBbgI/AAAAAAAAAJA/WdpC5LXAB-0/s72-c/Cita%C3%A7%C3%A3o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-1935494149562738737</id><published>2009-07-05T17:29:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T21:04:54.939+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Vislumbro-te Como As Alvoradas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SlDWVBYUedI/AAAAAAAAAI4/B7f58_9jKXk/s1600-h/Vislumbro-te+Como+As+Alvoradas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 306px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355015613579557330" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SlDWVBYUedI/AAAAAAAAAI4/B7f58_9jKXk/s320/Vislumbro-te+Como+As+Alvoradas.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Vislumbro-te como as alvoradas.&lt;br /&gt;Aquelas de orvalho e breves brisas&lt;br /&gt;Das manhãs Primaveris aladas&lt;br /&gt;E das nuvens tristes e grisas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espero que gostes, do gosto dócil&lt;br /&gt;Dos meus lábios nos teus,&lt;br /&gt;E fazer dos meus, único e volátil&lt;br /&gt;Desejo adoçado, que me consome&lt;br /&gt;Dos seus beijos um estímulo amado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que dois corpos fazem,&lt;br /&gt;Ao despertar da inspiração?&lt;br /&gt;O lençol esconde da aragem&lt;br /&gt;O que dois corpos fazem na paixão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;05/07/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed id="radioblog_player_-1" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="180" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#ECECEC" flashvars="id=-1&amp;amp;filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen2?u=0vMHZuV3bz9yZvxmYu8WakFmcvUHaucXduEmYy92avJWY/Etta%2520James%2520-%2520Trust%2520In%2520Me.rbs&amp;amp;colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-1935494149562738737?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/1935494149562738737/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/07/vislumbro-te-como-as-alvoradas.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1935494149562738737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1935494149562738737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/07/vislumbro-te-como-as-alvoradas.html' title='Vislumbro-te Como As Alvoradas'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SlDWVBYUedI/AAAAAAAAAI4/B7f58_9jKXk/s72-c/Vislumbro-te+Como+As+Alvoradas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-6592737920979494032</id><published>2009-07-05T00:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T01:26:07.817+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Senti Tudo! Na Minha Pele</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sk_mn3bjjMI/AAAAAAAAAIw/MDCcPVTCu8A/s1600-h/Senti+Tudo!+Na+Minha+Pele.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354752054535621826" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sk_mn3bjjMI/AAAAAAAAAIw/MDCcPVTCu8A/s320/Senti+Tudo!+Na+Minha+Pele.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A minha pele sente!&lt;br /&gt;Sente e consente que sentiu&lt;br /&gt;Este tempo que me mente&lt;br /&gt;Que nem dei conta se me iludiu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De mão erguida ao vasto céu&lt;br /&gt;Uma brisa corrente persistiu&lt;br /&gt;Tenho este soberbo sol como meu réu&lt;br /&gt;Do meu palmo se sobressaiu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É fogo batalhador!&lt;br /&gt;Roda o vastíssimo azul manto&lt;br /&gt;Para no fim se repor&lt;br /&gt;Uma noite neste belo recanto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;05/07/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed id="radioblog_player_-1" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="180" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#ECECEC" flashvars="id=-1&amp;amp;filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen2?u=2wLzRmb192cv8WakFmcvUHauEmc0hXZuc2bsJ2XhJHdhB3blx2Y/Muddy%2520Waters%2520-%2520Louisiana%2520Blues.rbs&amp;amp;colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-6592737920979494032?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/6592737920979494032/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/07/senti-tudo-na-minha-pele.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/6592737920979494032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/6592737920979494032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/07/senti-tudo-na-minha-pele.html' title='Senti Tudo! Na Minha Pele'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sk_mn3bjjMI/AAAAAAAAAIw/MDCcPVTCu8A/s72-c/Senti+Tudo!+Na+Minha+Pele.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-7324906400605063698</id><published>2009-06-30T23:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T00:21:24.605+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A Noite É O Meu Beco</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Skqd0aof4FI/AAAAAAAAAIo/OXzEomIIs5w/s1600-h/A+Noite+%C3%89+O+Meu+Beco.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 207px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353264630911197266" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Skqd0aof4FI/AAAAAAAAAIo/OXzEomIIs5w/s320/A+Noite+%C3%89+O+Meu+Beco.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Estou só e perdido&lt;br /&gt;Sozinho num sombrio beco&lt;br /&gt;Estou só e ressentido&lt;br /&gt;Por mais que fale, só ouço o meu eco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sou nada, talvez nada sou,&lt;br /&gt;Por mais nada que seja&lt;br /&gt;Nem a minha lágrima me içou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigo as lágrimas até ao chão&lt;br /&gt;Deste lamento das funduras&lt;br /&gt;São pranto de solidão&lt;br /&gt;São vivências mais duras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O escuro é secreto&lt;br /&gt;Nem a noite diz&lt;br /&gt;O que de vil é concreto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30/06/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed id="radioblog_player_-1" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="180" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#ECECEC" flashvars="id=-1&amp;amp;filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen2?u=0vMHZuV3bz9yZvxmYu8WakFmcvInZuIWdsNmLl5WanVmcukXYuVGdu9mZ/Beethoven%2520-%2520Moonlight%2520Sonata%2520%2528Complete%2529.rbs&amp;amp;colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-7324906400605063698?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/7324906400605063698/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/06/noite-e-o-meu-beco.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7324906400605063698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7324906400605063698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/06/noite-e-o-meu-beco.html' title='A Noite É O Meu Beco'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Skqd0aof4FI/AAAAAAAAAIo/OXzEomIIs5w/s72-c/A+Noite+%C3%89+O+Meu+Beco.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-8220767322222577611</id><published>2009-06-28T03:30:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T03:38:49.713+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Lisboa, Chove Em Ti</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SkbWOzkMxlI/AAAAAAAAAIg/XOMWZC7Zv3Y/s1600-h/Lisboa,+Chove+Em+Ti.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352200757024966226" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SkbWOzkMxlI/AAAAAAAAAIg/XOMWZC7Zv3Y/s320/Lisboa,+Chove+Em+Ti.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Chove nas ruas desertas de Lisboa!&lt;br /&gt;Consigo ouvi-la desabar&lt;br /&gt;Nas veias amplas onde ecoa&lt;br /&gt;Cai e soa, cai para assear,&lt;br /&gt;Assear Lisboa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abrem-se guarda-chuvas!&lt;br /&gt;Nas velhas vias de Pessoa&lt;br /&gt;Dão vida ás acanhadas ruas&lt;br /&gt;E ressoa novos ruídos de Lisboa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28/06/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed id="radioblog_player_-1" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="180" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#ECECEC" flashvars="id=-1&amp;amp;filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen2?u=18yck5WdvN3Ln9GbC5ybpRWYS9icm5SZlJnZugWazF2a/The%2520Doors-The%2520End.mp3.rbs&amp;amp;colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-8220767322222577611?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/8220767322222577611/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/06/lisboa-chove-em-ti.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/8220767322222577611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/8220767322222577611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/06/lisboa-chove-em-ti.html' title='Lisboa, Chove Em Ti'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SkbWOzkMxlI/AAAAAAAAAIg/XOMWZC7Zv3Y/s72-c/Lisboa,+Chove+Em+Ti.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-2080958728040740172</id><published>2009-06-27T21:06:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T21:19:01.264+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Citação</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SkZ-ReTszXI/AAAAAAAAAIY/8s4N2il7LrA/s1600-h/Cita%C3%A7%C3%A3o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 192px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352104045834980722" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SkZ-ReTszXI/AAAAAAAAAIY/8s4N2il7LrA/s320/Cita%C3%A7%C3%A3o.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Ontem pensei, hoje sonhei, amanhã aconteça o que acontecer, não será escrito aqui.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27/06/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-2080958728040740172?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/2080958728040740172/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/06/citacao.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2080958728040740172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2080958728040740172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/06/citacao.html' title='Citação'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SkZ-ReTszXI/AAAAAAAAAIY/8s4N2il7LrA/s72-c/Cita%C3%A7%C3%A3o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-2558183365253942990</id><published>2009-06-24T02:28:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T02:57:02.164+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Flor Da Memória</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SkGB27Q7E_I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/FhfHT1HGQFo/s1600-h/Flor+Da+Mem%C3%B3ria.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350700612914451442" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SkGB27Q7E_I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/FhfHT1HGQFo/s320/Flor+Da+Mem%C3%B3ria.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Na minha varanda nasceu uma flor!&lt;br /&gt;Brotou numa manhã de madrugada&lt;br /&gt;Em excelsos de cetim e primor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pensamentos correram sobre ela&lt;br /&gt;De onde surgiu esta flor tão bela?&lt;br /&gt;Medrou até minha janela do calor&lt;br /&gt;Mas que pétalas nascentes do alvor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;És verde dos infindos campos&lt;br /&gt;És brasa do sol alado&lt;br /&gt;És senhora de todos os recantos&lt;br /&gt;És o meu outro lado estimado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vives na calada na lembrança&lt;br /&gt;És a minha flor de confiança.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24/06/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed id="radioblog_player_-1" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="180" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#ECECEC" flashvars="id=-1&amp;amp;filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen2?u=0vMHZuV3bz9yZvxmYu8WakFmcvk3chV2ahVGcz9Cdl5mLuJXZ2FGdyVmY5NmL3d3d/Shpongle%2520-%2520Flutefruit.rbs&amp;amp;colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-2558183365253942990?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/2558183365253942990/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/06/flor-da-memoria.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2558183365253942990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2558183365253942990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/06/flor-da-memoria.html' title='Flor Da Memória'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SkGB27Q7E_I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/FhfHT1HGQFo/s72-c/Flor+Da+Mem%C3%B3ria.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-7595882657961209826</id><published>2009-06-22T01:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T02:44:13.945+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Não Vejo Lágrimas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sj7WXTQoXAI/AAAAAAAAAII/jEyNXyt32c8/s1600-h/N%C3%A3o+Vejo+L%C3%A1grimas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349949103158090754" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sj7WXTQoXAI/AAAAAAAAAII/jEyNXyt32c8/s320/N%C3%A3o+Vejo+L%C3%A1grimas.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Lacrimejo de breve pensamento&lt;br /&gt;Colossal lágrima candente…&lt;br /&gt;Do fundo da cisterna do padecimento&lt;br /&gt;Onde o Olimpo se torna ausente&lt;br /&gt;Ó minha visão frágil de contento!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não sinto a luz cintilante&lt;br /&gt;Nem a brisa alheia&lt;br /&gt;Não sinto a chuva cativante&lt;br /&gt;Nem vejo o que me vagueia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sou triste porque sou cego&lt;br /&gt;Cairei afogado no meu pranto&lt;br /&gt;Sou triste porque me rego&lt;br /&gt;Em choro num recanto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22/06/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed id="radioblog_player_-1" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="180" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#ECECEC" flashvars="id=-1&amp;amp;filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen2?u=0vMHZuV3bz9yZvxmYu8WakFmcvUHaucXduEmYy92avJWY/Etta%2520James%2520-%2520I%2520would%2520rather%2520go%2520blind.rbs&amp;amp;colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-7595882657961209826?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/7595882657961209826/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/06/nao-vejo-lagrimas.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7595882657961209826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7595882657961209826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/06/nao-vejo-lagrimas.html' title='Não Vejo Lágrimas'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sj7WXTQoXAI/AAAAAAAAAII/jEyNXyt32c8/s72-c/N%C3%A3o+Vejo+L%C3%A1grimas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-4427598585406108843</id><published>2009-06-21T17:19:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T02:15:30.973+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Pé A Passo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sj5f6R1rbWI/AAAAAAAAAIA/RhiCcGFkQmM/s1600-h/P%C3%A9+A+Passo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 237px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349818862188326242" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sj5f6R1rbWI/AAAAAAAAAIA/RhiCcGFkQmM/s320/P%C3%A9+A+Passo.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Caminha o caminhante&lt;br /&gt;A pé, vai ele confiante.&lt;br /&gt;Caminha o sonhador&lt;br /&gt;Pelas nuvens vai condor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caminhais ó caminhante&lt;br /&gt;Logo, é um viajante sonhador&lt;br /&gt;Caminha o fantasiador, confiante!&lt;br /&gt;Todavia pelas nuvens como um condor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jornadeias viandante&lt;br /&gt;Vais para longe estranho trovador&lt;br /&gt;Progride por estrada constante&lt;br /&gt;Num olhar de explorador.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21/06/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed id="radioblog_player_-1" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="180" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#ECECEC" flashvars="id=-1&amp;amp;filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen2?u=0vMHZuV3bz9yZvxmYu8WakFmcvInZuUWZyZmLn9Gbi52buFWb/Bob%2520Dylan%2520-%2520Mr%2520Tambourine%2520Man.rbs&amp;amp;colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-4427598585406108843?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/4427598585406108843/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/06/pe-passo.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/4427598585406108843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/4427598585406108843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/06/pe-passo.html' title='Pé A Passo'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sj5f6R1rbWI/AAAAAAAAAIA/RhiCcGFkQmM/s72-c/P%C3%A9+A+Passo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-1409333156807718067</id><published>2009-06-19T02:10:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T02:28:22.442+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Os Segundos Do Sentimento</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SjrmAHD3GqI/AAAAAAAAAH4/Tt6QB06EM3s/s1600-h/Os+Segundos+Do+Sentimento.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348840397025516194" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SjrmAHD3GqI/AAAAAAAAAH4/Tt6QB06EM3s/s320/Os+Segundos+Do+Sentimento.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Subjugo o imenso céu&lt;br /&gt;Dos prateados reflectidos&lt;br /&gt;Na nuvem que é véu&lt;br /&gt;Dos significados esquecidos.&lt;br /&gt;Acolho a letra que é réu&lt;br /&gt;Do meu pensamento…&lt;br /&gt;A frase que vai ao vento&lt;br /&gt;Soletro-te, descrevo-te.&lt;br /&gt;Aperfeiçoo em tormento&lt;br /&gt;A palavra que sentimos&lt;br /&gt;E digo cobiçando-te&lt;br /&gt;Que quanto mais andamos&lt;br /&gt;Mais eu te amo…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19/06/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed id="radioblog_player_-1" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="180" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#ECECEC" flashvars="id=-1&amp;amp;filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen2?u=18yck5WdvN3Ln9Gbi5ybpRWYy9ibsVWauFGZv8mbu8Wa15yas9mZ/07%2520Adagio%2520for%2520Strings%252C%2520Op%252011.rbs&amp;amp;colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-1409333156807718067?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/1409333156807718067/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/06/os-segundos-do-sentimento.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1409333156807718067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1409333156807718067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/06/os-segundos-do-sentimento.html' title='Os Segundos Do Sentimento'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SjrmAHD3GqI/AAAAAAAAAH4/Tt6QB06EM3s/s72-c/Os+Segundos+Do+Sentimento.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-1387357946213852266</id><published>2009-06-19T01:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T02:22:50.695+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sede De Quem Escreve</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SjravIoPnvI/AAAAAAAAAHw/1WFvhqV_uqg/s1600-h/A+Sede+De+Quem+Escreve.png"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 247px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348828010760871666" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SjravIoPnvI/AAAAAAAAAHw/1WFvhqV_uqg/s320/A+Sede+De+Quem+Escreve.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A minha pétala foi com o vento&lt;br /&gt;Agora sozinho sou sofrimento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encaro o pesadelo com fé&lt;br /&gt;Sede de chama flamejante&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto remo contra a maré&lt;br /&gt;Perco rasto da minha amante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flor crescente de majestoso luar&lt;br /&gt;És nevoeiro do um ressentido mar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nem a palavra sente&lt;br /&gt;O que o poeta consente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19/06/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowScriptAccess="always" width="180" height="23" bgcolor="#ECECEC" id="radioblog_player_-1" FlashVars="id=-1&amp;filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen2?u=2wLzRmb192cvUmblp3LjVHdjVHdtVmbvUHauIWZ3VWZyZmL3d3d/Led%2520Zeppelin%2520-%2520Stairway%2520To%2520Heaven.rbs&amp;colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#999999;" &gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-1387357946213852266?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/1387357946213852266/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/06/sede-de-quem-escreve.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1387357946213852266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1387357946213852266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/06/sede-de-quem-escreve.html' title='A Sede De Quem Escreve'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SjravIoPnvI/AAAAAAAAAHw/1WFvhqV_uqg/s72-c/A+Sede+De+Quem+Escreve.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-5735517190480992812</id><published>2009-06-16T20:36:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T22:30:19.074+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O Nascente Sol</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sjf0u_KgOJI/AAAAAAAAAHo/B73S1C8bYfs/s1600-h/O+Nascente+Sol.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 241px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348012170592401554" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sjf0u_KgOJI/AAAAAAAAAHo/B73S1C8bYfs/s320/O+Nascente+Sol.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Fogo ardente brota no horizonte&lt;br /&gt;Cresce glorificado de cetim&lt;br /&gt;Beija de calma harmonioso monte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nuvens pintadas de ameno carmesim&lt;br /&gt;Costuradas ao éden da beleza&lt;br /&gt;Cunham os limites do infindo confim&lt;br /&gt;Com cores indefinidas de lindeza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É astro-rei que cresce sobre mim&lt;br /&gt;É tela a óleo da vasta fonte&lt;br /&gt;Lavra-se o céu em algodão, sim…&lt;br /&gt;E eu, pintado num quadro de grandeza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16/06/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed id="radioblog_player_-1" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="180" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#ECECEC" flashvars="id=-1&amp;amp;filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen2?u=0vMHZuV3bz9yZvxmYu8WakFmcvIXZwBXZw5WZlJ3ZvInZuUWZyZmLwRnZlZnclNnLuVGczNXY/Animals%2520-%2520House%2520of%2520the%2520Rising%2520Sun.rbs&amp;amp;colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-5735517190480992812?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/5735517190480992812/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/06/o-nascente-sol.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5735517190480992812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5735517190480992812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/06/o-nascente-sol.html' title='O Nascente Sol'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sjf0u_KgOJI/AAAAAAAAAHo/B73S1C8bYfs/s72-c/O+Nascente+Sol.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-2138229830538678963</id><published>2009-05-29T22:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T22:06:36.957+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Respiro Um Minuto</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SiBONfVDFeI/AAAAAAAAAHg/rjDoVNk9H1I/s1600-h/Respirar+Um+Minuto.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341355151716455906" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SiBONfVDFeI/AAAAAAAAAHg/rjDoVNk9H1I/s320/Respirar+Um+Minuto.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Aguardo num cantinho de pausa, para voltar a abraçar as palavras. Faço uma vénia, e agradeço às longas frases que me compreendem e conhecem. Respiro e espero um minuto. Demorarei a recuperar a minha exausta aura.&lt;br /&gt;É um exaltado minuto de recuperação. Mas voltarei, prometo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29/05/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-2138229830538678963?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/2138229830538678963/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/05/respiro-um-minuto.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2138229830538678963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2138229830538678963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/05/respiro-um-minuto.html' title='Respiro Um Minuto'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SiBONfVDFeI/AAAAAAAAAHg/rjDoVNk9H1I/s72-c/Respirar+Um+Minuto.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-8717586101980729659</id><published>2009-05-26T00:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T23:11:59.318+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Velejar Frágil Mimo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ShsyfVK7fSI/AAAAAAAAAHY/dMhV07HtbSI/s1600-h/Velejar+Fr%C3%A1gil+Mimo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 209px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5339917297018174754" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ShsyfVK7fSI/AAAAAAAAAHY/dMhV07HtbSI/s320/Velejar+Fr%C3%A1gil+Mimo.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Lacrimejo como um rio&lt;br /&gt;Corrente de longas gotas&lt;br /&gt;Embebidas em vós soltas&lt;br /&gt;Sois frágil mimo fio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;São olhos de azul céu&lt;br /&gt;Com toque de campos verdes&lt;br /&gt;De harmonioso véu&lt;br /&gt;Sois notas de Paredes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lábios finos do meu reparo&lt;br /&gt;Observo-a bela flutuante&lt;br /&gt;A velejar viajante no paro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26/05/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed id="radioblog_player_0" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="180" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#ECECEC" flashvars="id=0&amp;amp;filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen2?u=2wLzRmb192cvc2bsJmLvlGZhJ3Lt92YuMXZw9Gb1VWbvJnL3d3d/Carlos%2520Paredes%2520%2528PT%2529%2520-%2520Canto%2520Do%2520Rio.rbs&amp;amp;colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-8717586101980729659?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/8717586101980729659/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/05/velejar-fragil-mimo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/8717586101980729659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/8717586101980729659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/05/velejar-fragil-mimo.html' title='Velejar Frágil Mimo'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ShsyfVK7fSI/AAAAAAAAAHY/dMhV07HtbSI/s72-c/Velejar+Fr%C3%A1gil+Mimo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-7154568515768192993</id><published>2009-05-19T23:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T00:15:04.061+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Veneno Das Voltas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ShMy9E8a2DI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/gFTuUPDh0Vk/s1600-h/Veneno+Das+Voltas.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337666008244738098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 312px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ShMy9E8a2DI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/gFTuUPDh0Vk/s320/Veneno+Das+Voltas.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;És uma pétala ao vento&lt;br /&gt;És uma chama flamejante&lt;br /&gt;És um beijo de sentimento&lt;br /&gt;Sois &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;leda&lt;/span&gt;, minha amante…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os teus magos olhos ardentes.&lt;br /&gt;O passo a passo de cascavel&lt;br /&gt;Soltas um estalar do chicote&lt;br /&gt;És veneno, como num carrossel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em leito de prazeres, conquistas!&lt;br /&gt;Cheiras a lindas rosas de mel&lt;br /&gt;Encantas vastíssimas vistas&lt;br /&gt;Tantas voltas dou neste carrossel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19/05/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-7154568515768192993?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/7154568515768192993/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/05/veneno-das-voltas.html#comment-form' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7154568515768192993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7154568515768192993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/05/veneno-das-voltas.html' title='Veneno Das Voltas'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ShMy9E8a2DI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/gFTuUPDh0Vk/s72-c/Veneno+Das+Voltas.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-5649818651803022851</id><published>2009-05-17T20:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T20:29:14.494+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ecos De Prata</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ShBleHgbQzI/AAAAAAAAAHI/Tn_AL1ZsQ0o/s1600-h/Ecos+De+Prata.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336877126519571250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 216px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ShBleHgbQzI/AAAAAAAAAHI/Tn_AL1ZsQ0o/s320/Ecos+De+Prata.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Poesia minha amada…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em teus versos nasci&lt;br /&gt;Em tuas estrofes sonhei&lt;br /&gt;Com tuas rimas engrandeci&lt;br /&gt;E sozinho amei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honrei as tuas palavras&lt;br /&gt;Escrevi como prezei!&lt;br /&gt;Mirei almas amadas&lt;br /&gt;E sozinho voltei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nem senhor&lt;br /&gt;Nem criador…&lt;br /&gt;É poeta meu primor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17/05/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-5649818651803022851?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/5649818651803022851/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/05/ecos-de-prata.html#comment-form' title='4 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5649818651803022851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5649818651803022851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/05/ecos-de-prata.html' title='Ecos De Prata'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ShBleHgbQzI/AAAAAAAAAHI/Tn_AL1ZsQ0o/s72-c/Ecos+De+Prata.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-7698503717583079591</id><published>2009-05-09T19:46:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T19:48:45.059+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ecos De Ouro</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SgXP6Ll0r9I/AAAAAAAAAHA/1oUWUkaJYEE/s1600-h/Ecos+De+Ouro.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333897932141014994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 250px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SgXP6Ll0r9I/AAAAAAAAAHA/1oUWUkaJYEE/s320/Ecos+De+Ouro.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Ser poeta de corpo e alma&lt;br /&gt;Ter a palavra na consciência;&lt;br /&gt;Desabrochar de letra calma&lt;br /&gt;Ser poeta de longa vivência.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trovador de letras como ouro.&lt;br /&gt;Gracioso verso afeiçoas&lt;br /&gt;Prudente amor é de ânsia&lt;br /&gt;Sonhador por glosas, soas.&lt;br /&gt;Ser poeta de longa existência&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Em ecos mudos num papel&lt;br /&gt;Compões um puro afecto&lt;br /&gt;São de apetitoso mel&lt;br /&gt;Esse sublime olfacto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;08/05/2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-7698503717583079591?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/7698503717583079591/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/05/ecos-de-ouro.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7698503717583079591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7698503717583079591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/05/ecos-de-ouro.html' title='Ecos De Ouro'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SgXP6Ll0r9I/AAAAAAAAAHA/1oUWUkaJYEE/s72-c/Ecos+De+Ouro.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-3201381330876356765</id><published>2009-05-05T23:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T23:35:31.055+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Um Pouco Do Passado</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SgC_BcruTNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/vrtOWq7MUFM/s1600-h/Um+Pouco+Do+Passado.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332471990407023826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SgC_BcruTNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/vrtOWq7MUFM/s320/Um+Pouco+Do+Passado.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Castelo de pedra como ouro&lt;br /&gt;No cimo de redondo monte&lt;br /&gt;Feito por coração mouro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De infinitas batalhas vividas.&lt;br /&gt;Como um ninho forte protector&lt;br /&gt;De idas e voltas de fé…&lt;br /&gt;Sarracenos distintos como condor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;05/05/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-3201381330876356765?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/3201381330876356765/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/05/um-pouco-do-passado.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/3201381330876356765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/3201381330876356765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/05/um-pouco-do-passado.html' title='Um Pouco Do Passado'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SgC_BcruTNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/vrtOWq7MUFM/s72-c/Um+Pouco+Do+Passado.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-3414491597117827601</id><published>2009-05-04T21:06:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T01:17:04.976+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Virgem Vislumbre</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sf9dMgAMQyI/AAAAAAAAAGw/pHs2Metk2qw/s1600-h/Virgem+Vislumbre.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332082953160508194" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sf9dMgAMQyI/AAAAAAAAAGw/pHs2Metk2qw/s320/Virgem+Vislumbre.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Naquele momento era eu, a noite e a ribeira. Sentado à beira deste magnifico lençol de água dou conta de todos os pormenores que me envolvem, não há nada de feio, tudo é belo. Ao meu lado pousado nesta suave relva está a minha lamparina; de iluminante véu sobre este cristalino sereno. No céu a companhia entre estrelas e lua, faz um incrível nascente luar como se fossem flamejantes pontos de candeeiro, que clareiam este deslumbrante lugar.&lt;br /&gt;Observo tranquilo de quietude, quando sem mais nem menos, sucede uma brisa morna; e das árvores que rodeiam esta harmoniosa fonte límpida de água, surgem incontáveis pirilampos luzindo uma energia grandiosa. Como por magia, todos os ruídos parecem acordar de um longo repouso silencioso e, grilos, corujas, entre outros. Despertam os afinados cânticos. A brisa acanha-se. Depois de frágeis folhas desanimadas voarem destes velhos carvalhos, que só a idade fala pelas suas marcas, a ideia nascia: Aragem desconhecida que trazes mudança, todo desperta à tua passagem, tudo fica para a lembrança…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;04/05/2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed id="radioblog_player_-1" height="23" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="180" src="http://stat.radioblogclub.com/radio.blog/skins/mini/player.swf" allowscriptaccess="always" bgcolor="#ECECEC" flashvars="id=-1&amp;amp;filepath=http://www.radioblogclub.com/listen2?u=0vMHZuV3bz9yZvxmYu8WakFmcvInZuUWZyZmLyU3boNGdhtWarl2a/Bob%2520Dylan%2520-%2520Blowing%2520in%2520the%2520Wind.rbs&amp;amp;colors=body:#ECECEC;border:#BBBBBB;button:#999999;player_text:#999999;playlist_text:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-3414491597117827601?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/3414491597117827601/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/05/virgem-vislumbre.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/3414491597117827601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/3414491597117827601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/05/virgem-vislumbre.html' title='Virgem Vislumbre'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sf9dMgAMQyI/AAAAAAAAAGw/pHs2Metk2qw/s72-c/Virgem+Vislumbre.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-2421814446501447001</id><published>2009-04-26T19:55:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T20:10:01.171+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Pátria De Amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SfSxfCvzrfI/AAAAAAAAAF0/X1R0N0ev6rY/s1600-h/P%C3%A1tria+De+Amor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329079405957590514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 253px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SfSxfCvzrfI/AAAAAAAAAF0/X1R0N0ev6rY/s320/P%C3%A1tria+De+Amor.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Caminhantes de sólida glória&lt;br /&gt;Marchai pátria da revolução!&lt;br /&gt;Morreremos pela honra…&lt;br /&gt;Do sangue da nossa nação&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De cravos empenhados em armas&lt;br /&gt;Avançamos firmes de confiança&lt;br /&gt;Movidos de paterna fidelidade&lt;br /&gt;País amando, trazemos ânsia!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somos povo de longa grandeza!&lt;br /&gt;Somos marujos de extenso mar&lt;br /&gt;Somos reis de tamanha beleza&lt;br /&gt;Somos portugueses a glorificar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26/04/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-2421814446501447001?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/2421814446501447001/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/04/patria-de-amor.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2421814446501447001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2421814446501447001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/04/patria-de-amor.html' title='Pátria De Amor'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SfSxfCvzrfI/AAAAAAAAAF0/X1R0N0ev6rY/s72-c/P%C3%A1tria+De+Amor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-8841595035430979621</id><published>2009-04-23T01:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T17:59:05.287+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Na História Do Ale</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Se_Bo49vrTI/AAAAAAAAAFs/y-9ffgCu-3g/s1600-h/Na+Hist%C3%B3ria+do+Ale.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327689792432876850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 315px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Se_Bo49vrTI/AAAAAAAAAFs/y-9ffgCu-3g/s320/Na+Hist%C3%B3ria+do+Ale.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Conta-me uma história!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tal de guerreiros e guerras&lt;br /&gt;De planícies, montes, vales e montanhas.&lt;br /&gt;De reis e rainhas&lt;br /&gt;De terras férteis e vinhas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Descreve-me o lindo azul do mar!&lt;br /&gt;Aquele que reflecte o imenso céu&lt;br /&gt;Num mero vislumbre de puro sonhar.&lt;br /&gt;Rodeado por um véu, de pontos cintilantes…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque não o ardente sol?!&lt;br /&gt;Predominante beleza de cetim.&lt;br /&gt;Pontos brilhantes flamejam&lt;br /&gt;Sob a perfeita flor do jasmim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora dorme nos sonhos&lt;br /&gt;Da vaga luz iluminante&lt;br /&gt;Fecha os olhos!&lt;br /&gt;Para esta noite distante.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23/04/2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-8841595035430979621?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/8841595035430979621/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/04/na-historia-do-ale.html#comment-form' title='5 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/8841595035430979621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/8841595035430979621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/04/na-historia-do-ale.html' title='Na História Do Ale'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Se_Bo49vrTI/AAAAAAAAAFs/y-9ffgCu-3g/s72-c/Na+Hist%C3%B3ria+do+Ale.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-952578566609760363</id><published>2009-04-21T22:44:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T23:17:19.242+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Leonor De Mistério</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Se5FrMUgtgI/AAAAAAAAAFk/9fYznfvRyRE/s1600-h/Leonor+De+Mist%C3%A9rio.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327272017569822210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Se5FrMUgtgI/AAAAAAAAAFk/9fYznfvRyRE/s320/Leonor+De+Mist%C3%A9rio.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Chama-se Leonor!&lt;br /&gt;É fantástica, bonita, discreta&lt;br /&gt;De olhar calmo, primor,&lt;br /&gt;Mistério levanta ela secreta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leonor amante de corações&lt;br /&gt;De seda são os seus cabelos&lt;br /&gt;De brisa são suas feições&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sentimentos aqueles singelos&lt;br /&gt;De lábios com retoque&lt;br /&gt;Deslumbrantes e belos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21/04/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-952578566609760363?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/952578566609760363/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/04/leonor-de-misterio.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/952578566609760363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/952578566609760363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/04/leonor-de-misterio.html' title='Leonor De Mistério'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Se5FrMUgtgI/AAAAAAAAAFk/9fYznfvRyRE/s72-c/Leonor+De+Mist%C3%A9rio.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-3989852476676945523</id><published>2009-04-19T23:30:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T15:30:37.572+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O Fim Cedo Negro</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SeunJcOHLII/AAAAAAAAAFc/_cEHTrVCYDs/s1600-h/Fim+Cedo+Negro.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326534764931787906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 297px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SeunJcOHLII/AAAAAAAAAFc/_cEHTrVCYDs/s320/Fim+Cedo+Negro.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Cavalgava negra morte&lt;br /&gt;Por infelizes trilhos esquecidos&lt;br /&gt;Vinha visitar pobre sorte&lt;br /&gt;De lindos &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cetins&lt;/span&gt; extintos…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O pesado galope percorria tenebroso!&lt;br /&gt;Nem vidas nem sonhos&lt;br /&gt;Trazia o fim interno&lt;br /&gt;Para este lugar remoto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trémulas pernas libertam medo!&lt;br /&gt;Noite cerrada acompanha foice aguçada&lt;br /&gt;O bramido viaja cedo&lt;br /&gt;E a morte nasce &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;indesejada&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19/04/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-3989852476676945523?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/3989852476676945523/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/04/o-fim-cedo-negro.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/3989852476676945523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/3989852476676945523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/04/o-fim-cedo-negro.html' title='O Fim Cedo Negro'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SeunJcOHLII/AAAAAAAAAFc/_cEHTrVCYDs/s72-c/Fim+Cedo+Negro.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-1558146427544475828</id><published>2009-04-19T01:08:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T01:24:16.908+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Frase Da Semana</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SepvDZ0lrHI/AAAAAAAAAFU/d_id3S36eB4/s1600-h/448px-Alice_05a-1116x1492%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326191613580782706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 239px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SepvDZ0lrHI/AAAAAAAAAFU/d_id3S36eB4/s320/448px-Alice_05a-1116x1492%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;De significado nasce a frase, de &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;compreensão&lt;/span&gt; cresce o leitor. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Serão&lt;/span&gt; somente letras, frases, textos? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Não&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;São&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;paixões&lt;/span&gt;, pensamentos, sentimentos e de tudo mais. A frase é distinta da &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;importância&lt;/span&gt; que transmitimos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Ultima "Frase Da Semana"!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-1558146427544475828?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/1558146427544475828/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/04/frase-da-semana_18.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1558146427544475828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1558146427544475828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/04/frase-da-semana_18.html' title='Frase Da Semana'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SepvDZ0lrHI/AAAAAAAAAFU/d_id3S36eB4/s72-c/448px-Alice_05a-1116x1492%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-279080303130124061</id><published>2009-04-18T15:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T23:15:10.990+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Mulher De Boas Visões</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SepQ4L-onHI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Buerh2WIMcY/s1600-h/Mulher+De+Boas+Vis%C3%B5es.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326158435537427570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SepQ4L-onHI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Buerh2WIMcY/s320/Mulher+De+Boas+Vis%C3%B5es.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Breves segundos eram aqueles…&lt;br /&gt;Sentado no banco de jardim&lt;br /&gt;Numa manhã de cetim&lt;br /&gt;Vislumbrando pura flor do jasmim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A moça aproximava-se de cabelo ao vento&lt;br /&gt;Com ancas de volta perfeita&lt;br /&gt;De olhos verdes serpente.&lt;br /&gt;Passa ela somente carente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Certamente é mais que uma flor!&lt;br /&gt;Rigor, ternura, primor...&lt;br /&gt;Que ardente cortesã!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passo a passo em ritmo excitante&lt;br /&gt;O seu corpo expele feitiço&lt;br /&gt;Esfaqueia a minha mente viajante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O estalar do chicote solta ao seu abanar&lt;br /&gt;Cascavel da manhã&lt;br /&gt;Onde será o teu covil que me fará sonhar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18/04/09&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-279080303130124061?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/279080303130124061/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/04/mulher-de-boas-visoes.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/279080303130124061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/279080303130124061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/04/mulher-de-boas-visoes.html' title='Mulher De Boas Visões'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SepQ4L-onHI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Buerh2WIMcY/s72-c/Mulher+De+Boas+Vis%C3%B5es.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-1811655176623717776</id><published>2009-04-14T00:55:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T01:34:34.226+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A Adolescência No Seu Conhecimento</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SePZ8_JTN0I/AAAAAAAAAEs/UG-34R-NPx8/s1600-h/int%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324338826247878466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 278px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SePZ8_JTN0I/AAAAAAAAAEs/UG-34R-NPx8/s320/int%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Aparentemente será descoberto um dos primeiros prazeres da adolescência.&lt;br /&gt;Depois de vários anos, surge a pergunta! Será que só serve para uma necessidade? Até parece que a sua mão chama pela sua escondida vontade. Será que faz alguma coisa? É o pensamento que salta junto de um início de inquietude.&lt;br /&gt;O pobre rapaz olha atentamente, para uma desconhecida fonte de mistério, que lhe incentiva uma excitação crescente, e questiona-se: “Isto está assim porquê?” Sem perder muito tempo com as suas dúvidas, parte para a prática. Os pais fora, festa na casa!&lt;br /&gt;O ser movido de curiosidade, senta-se frente a frente com o seu computador, sem ninguém para o chatear, pesquisa pela primeira vez, o sexo oposto. Os resultados, deixaram o queixo cair e os olhos arregalar. O que aumentava não era certamente o seu conhecimento de observador! O garoto fora de si, controlado pelo instinto, dava um novo uso à sua mão. Primeira masturbação é sempre lembrada pela sensação de um prazer enorme. Breves minutos se seguiram. No fim do curto tempo passado em movimentos repetitivos, o orgulho e a satisfação eram aparentes no seu jovem rosto. Não seria a última, mas a primeira de muitas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14/04/2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-1811655176623717776?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/1811655176623717776/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/04/adolescencia-no-seu-conhecimento.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1811655176623717776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1811655176623717776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/04/adolescencia-no-seu-conhecimento.html' title='A Adolescência No Seu Conhecimento'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SePZ8_JTN0I/AAAAAAAAAEs/UG-34R-NPx8/s72-c/int%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-5232327808749141470</id><published>2009-04-12T19:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T01:44:21.377+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Frase da Semana</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SeOOtoVuILI/AAAAAAAAAEc/C6Fp-7zX-3Q/s1600-h/1612962705%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324256099055837362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 211px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SeOOtoVuILI/AAAAAAAAAEc/C6Fp-7zX-3Q/s320/1612962705%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 5pt 0cm; mso-pagination: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;Consideração faz parte da piedade! Para quê pensar tanto, se estamos perto da igualdade...calamidades são inúteis, permanece o imaginário de ideias fúteis...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 5pt 0cm; mso-pagination: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 5pt 0cm; mso-pagination: none; mso-layout-grid-align: none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;b&gt;&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-5232327808749141470?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/5232327808749141470/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/04/frase-da-semana_12.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5232327808749141470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5232327808749141470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/04/frase-da-semana_12.html' title='Frase da Semana'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SeOOtoVuILI/AAAAAAAAAEc/C6Fp-7zX-3Q/s72-c/1612962705%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-5769183293724349834</id><published>2009-04-06T17:39:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T23:13:36.759+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O Branco Da Destreza</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SdoyGxSQfVI/AAAAAAAAAD0/rQ5gb9_n6Mg/s1600-h/neve_em_iju_1965_6%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321621001582181714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 190px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SdoyGxSQfVI/AAAAAAAAAD0/rQ5gb9_n6Mg/s320/neve_em_iju_1965_6%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Aparecido branco traz felicidade.&lt;br /&gt;Olho em redor, mudo de tanto pormenor…&lt;br /&gt;Bem aparecida, única cor saudade,&lt;br /&gt;Rico em primor, sonhos juntos de realidade.&lt;br /&gt;Requinte no cristalino derretido&lt;br /&gt;Sobre minhas mãos frias, trémulas da frieza.&lt;br /&gt;Mentes correm alimentadas de alegria&lt;br /&gt;Sonhos acompanhados de destreza!&lt;br /&gt;E a neve cai, flutuando no ar,&lt;br /&gt;O sol escasso, brilha, luzindo.&lt;br /&gt;E com palavras de fazer sonhar&lt;br /&gt;Aqueço as mãos…&lt;br /&gt;Sob flocos gelados, oiço-me titubear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;06/04/2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-5769183293724349834?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/5769183293724349834/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/04/o-branco-da-destreza.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5769183293724349834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5769183293724349834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/04/o-branco-da-destreza.html' title='O Branco Da Destreza'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SdoyGxSQfVI/AAAAAAAAAD0/rQ5gb9_n6Mg/s72-c/neve_em_iju_1965_6%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-8916750116836264888</id><published>2009-04-05T00:29:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T02:48:42.583+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Frase Da Semana</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SdfufFjSR2I/AAAAAAAAADo/tqZV1_5zqrg/s1600-h/2071691-2-psilocybin-mushrooms%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320983702595061602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 243px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SdfufFjSR2I/AAAAAAAAADo/tqZV1_5zqrg/s320/2071691-2-psilocybin-mushrooms%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;E ao relampejar todas as imagens! Conclui ter sido efémero. Mas a lembrança subsiste, e a memoria não se extingue, será sempre único.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-8916750116836264888?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/8916750116836264888/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/04/frase-da-semana.html#comment-form' title='6 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/8916750116836264888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/8916750116836264888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/04/frase-da-semana.html' title='Frase Da Semana'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SdfufFjSR2I/AAAAAAAAADo/tqZV1_5zqrg/s72-c/2071691-2-psilocybin-mushrooms%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-2888909344507746091</id><published>2009-04-04T13:18:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T22:12:21.417+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O Café Da Tarde</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SddQzEMNiHI/AAAAAAAAADg/Nddc8_da0TQ/s1600-h/aquarelle_sanguine_bar%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320810322990041202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 286px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SddQzEMNiHI/AAAAAAAAADg/Nddc8_da0TQ/s320/aquarelle_sanguine_bar%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Entre uma passa e outra, fumo o meu cigarro. Inalando um prazer relaxante, tranquilo de toda a situação em meu redor, expirando devagar uma nuvem, aproveito ao máximo aquilo que nos descrevem como “Fumar mata”. Pois talvez ainda possa cair subitamente para o lado. É melhor largar a pequena beata! Com um toque rápido no cigarro a cinza plana até ao chão. Hoje o café está dentro do meu gosto, o tabaco é apenas a minha companhia entre dedos.&lt;br /&gt;Estou sentado de frente para a lareira, que deixa sair um ligeiro calor, das últimas brasas. Ao meu lado direito encontra-se a varanda, que deixa entrar a escassa brisa, que converte o meu cigarro em cinza mais depressa. Por detrás de mim está a televisão, que sobre o olhar atento de três indivíduos, vão decorando as palavras do noticiarista. O balcão está do meu lado esquerdo, a mais ou menos dois metros do sítio onde me encontro, onde as três pessoas vão conversando umas com as outras. Um local muito simpático e acolhedor.&lt;br /&gt;Tomava ouvidos a quem falava. Eram típicas frases…&lt;br /&gt;“Vamos fazer uma partida de &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;snooker&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;?”&lt;br /&gt;“Quem perder paga!”&lt;br /&gt;O que posso eu dizer? Vivas ao &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;snooker&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;! O fumo incontrolável, corre ao sabor da aparecida aragem, perdendo-se, enquanto vou ouvindo os pedidos, dos senhores que procuram refugio do cansaço de um dia de trabalho.&lt;br /&gt;“É uma &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;mini&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, se faz favor!”&lt;br /&gt;“Ora sai uma &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;mini&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;…” – &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Diz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; o empregado simpático, dando a cerveja ao senhor, que aparentava o desgaste das suas mãos. Mas a alegria brotava por todos os lados, todas estas pessoas mostram a felicidade do convívio.&lt;br /&gt;Levando o cigarro à boca, dou uso aos pulmões, e de seguida apago no cinzeiro a minha companhia, antes presente entre os meus dedos. Bebo o resto do meu café. Por já conhecer o estabelecimento, de outras tardes passadas, tiro o dinheiro à conta do meu pedido. Os preços acabam por ser sempre decorados.&lt;br /&gt;Levanto-me e caminho na direcção da saída. Desço as escadas e sigo a estrada que me leva para casa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27/03/2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-2888909344507746091?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/2888909344507746091/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/04/o-cafe-da-tarde.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2888909344507746091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2888909344507746091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/04/o-cafe-da-tarde.html' title='O Café Da Tarde'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SddQzEMNiHI/AAAAAAAAADg/Nddc8_da0TQ/s72-c/aquarelle_sanguine_bar%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-7131360210796994599</id><published>2009-04-01T01:28:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T23:47:26.107+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Para Lá De Um Caminho</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SeUSNlQfv5I/AAAAAAAAAE8/xVSbS9bEvrQ/s1600-h/SDC10927.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324682158984380306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SeUSNlQfv5I/AAAAAAAAAE8/xVSbS9bEvrQ/s320/SDC10927.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;O caminho percorre-se sonhador!&lt;br /&gt;Passo a passo, num simples trilho,&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo palpando fértil terra&lt;br /&gt;De sonhos perdidos que imergem…&lt;br /&gt;Na fina seara que abana ao sabor da aragem&lt;br /&gt;O olhar que sobrevive à paisagem&lt;br /&gt;Numa visão acompanhada pela nuvem.&lt;br /&gt;O reino do céu, dominado pelo ser que voa,&lt;br /&gt;Que passa&lt;br /&gt;Que sente&lt;br /&gt;Que ecoa...&lt;br /&gt;O adormecer da estrela&lt;br /&gt;Criando a cor num véu&lt;br /&gt;Pelo qual defino por céu&lt;br /&gt;É vida&lt;br /&gt;É luar&lt;br /&gt;É um conto&lt;br /&gt;No seu lugar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-7131360210796994599?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/7131360210796994599/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/para-la-de-um-caminho.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7131360210796994599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7131360210796994599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/para-la-de-um-caminho.html' title='Para Lá De Um Caminho'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SeUSNlQfv5I/AAAAAAAAAE8/xVSbS9bEvrQ/s72-c/SDC10927.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-7157590890664598482</id><published>2009-03-29T02:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T01:53:58.588+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Frase Da Semana</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sc7UAYQXVGI/AAAAAAAAACw/1vM7LAlMFk4/s1600-h/1201171801_f%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318421312947311714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 255px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sc7UAYQXVGI/AAAAAAAAACw/1vM7LAlMFk4/s320/1201171801_f%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;E naquele momento em que tudo voava, brotou um engrandecer entre quem se olhava...apenas a imagem ficou, o toque.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-7157590890664598482?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/7157590890664598482/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/frase-da-semana_28.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7157590890664598482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7157590890664598482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/frase-da-semana_28.html' title='Frase Da Semana'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Sc7UAYQXVGI/AAAAAAAAACw/1vM7LAlMFk4/s72-c/1201171801_f%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-7701790987783984798</id><published>2009-03-23T19:04:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-04-01T01:33:32.166+01:00</updated><title type='text'>O Reflexo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Scfev-N9QDI/AAAAAAAAACo/nW-wnzKQQlQ/s1600-h/Benqueren%25E7a_julho2005%2520032%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316462800870916146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Scfev-N9QDI/AAAAAAAAACo/nW-wnzKQQlQ/s320/Benqueren%25E7a_julho2005%2520032%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;É reflexo contrário…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surpreendente…&lt;br /&gt;Ver o reflexo ao contrário&lt;br /&gt;Ver cair a gota, num breve cenário,&lt;br /&gt;Que torna uma imagem ondulada&lt;br /&gt;E a ideia desfocada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É água parada…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arrepiante…&lt;br /&gt;Ver a água parada&lt;br /&gt;Libertando um espelho, cristalino,&lt;br /&gt;De um mundo, único e sozinho&lt;br /&gt;Que se ouve, sentindo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É brisa leve…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De aparente, minguante…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Faz&lt;/span&gt; único vislumbre&lt;br /&gt;De veste manifestante.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De calma invocada…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na manhã da minha madrugada&lt;br /&gt;Seria a ribeira a minha amada.&lt;br /&gt;Mas o suave vento.&lt;br /&gt;Despertava magia, e sonhava…&lt;br /&gt;Não estava só!&lt;br /&gt;Nem acompanhado&lt;br /&gt;Apenas quem chorava&lt;br /&gt;Sentia-se revoltado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;O Outro Lado Do Reflexo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;É reflexo contrário&lt;br /&gt;É água parada&lt;br /&gt;É brisa leve…&lt;br /&gt;De calma invocada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surpreendente…&lt;br /&gt;Arrepiante.&lt;br /&gt;De aparente, minguante.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ver o reflexo ao contrário&lt;br /&gt;Ver a água parada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Faz&lt;/span&gt; único vislumbre…&lt;br /&gt;Na manhã da minha madrugada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ver cair a gota, num breve cenário,&lt;br /&gt;Libertando um espelho, cristalino.&lt;br /&gt;De veste manifestante…&lt;br /&gt;Que torna uma imagem ondulada!&lt;br /&gt;De um mundo, único e sozinho…&lt;br /&gt;E a ideia desfocada.&lt;br /&gt;Que se ouve, sentindo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-7701790987783984798?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/7701790987783984798/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/o-reflexo.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7701790987783984798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7701790987783984798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/o-reflexo.html' title='O Reflexo'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/Scfev-N9QDI/AAAAAAAAACo/nW-wnzKQQlQ/s72-c/Benqueren%25E7a_julho2005%2520032%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-1127756181352068852</id><published>2009-03-22T21:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-04-01T01:33:58.393+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Despedida</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScbJxvukVOI/AAAAAAAAACg/KvzBhNiwQAM/s1600-h/image%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316158266620007650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 319px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScbJxvukVOI/AAAAAAAAACg/KvzBhNiwQAM/s320/image%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A noite vai longa e inspirada&lt;br /&gt;Voa e é cortada como nada…&lt;br /&gt;Assim não espera mas venera&lt;br /&gt;Com simples despedidas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sim…gostei da conversa&lt;br /&gt;Com palavras sempre animadas&lt;br /&gt;Mas chega a hora onde mora&lt;br /&gt;Uma despedida assim prevenida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os ponteiros não param&lt;br /&gt;E o relógio não morre!&lt;br /&gt;O tempo passa…&lt;br /&gt;Sinceramente parece que corre!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já na rua, observo vasta lua nua…&lt;br /&gt;Parece o sol da noite,&lt;br /&gt;Colocada num quadro escuro.&lt;br /&gt;Mas que vislumbro&lt;br /&gt;Magnífica ao som do uivo…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adeus magnífica lua,&lt;br /&gt;Adeus uivo distante...&lt;br /&gt;As estrelas que me acompanhem&lt;br /&gt;Nesta minha noite sufocante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onde mora a vida lunar,&lt;br /&gt;No espaço giram os astros…&lt;br /&gt;Adormeço num mundo de pontos brilhantes,&lt;br /&gt;Como um barco à deriva no mar.&lt;br /&gt;E o sonho de certo lugar&lt;br /&gt;Morre comigo incompleto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adeus…&lt;br /&gt;Meu universo viajante,&lt;br /&gt;Serei teu num espaço constante.&lt;br /&gt;Adeus…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;09/12/2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-1127756181352068852?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/1127756181352068852/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/despedida.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1127756181352068852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1127756181352068852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/despedida.html' title='Despedida'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScbJxvukVOI/AAAAAAAAACg/KvzBhNiwQAM/s72-c/image%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-763787557155101352</id><published>2009-03-22T00:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-04-01T01:53:26.789+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Frase Da Semana</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScWMycf3yzI/AAAAAAAAACY/4QEVML8KGfI/s1600-h/sunset-beach-2412%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315809733451959090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScWMycf3yzI/AAAAAAAAACY/4QEVML8KGfI/s320/sunset-beach-2412%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A vida podia ser um mar de rosas...mas por vezes não há mar. Apenas uma rosa!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-763787557155101352?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/763787557155101352/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/frase-da-semana.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/763787557155101352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/763787557155101352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/frase-da-semana.html' title='Frase Da Semana'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScWMycf3yzI/AAAAAAAAACY/4QEVML8KGfI/s72-c/sunset-beach-2412%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-2973737229897445008</id><published>2009-03-22T00:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-04-01T01:34:44.231+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Rapariga Que Enfeitiça</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScWKtwqAfgI/AAAAAAAAACQ/2Q43iWEQHRI/s1600-h/BXK4729_paisagem-lua-sobre-praia800-thumb%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315807453940579842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScWKtwqAfgI/AAAAAAAAACQ/2Q43iWEQHRI/s320/BXK4729_paisagem-lua-sobre-praia800-thumb%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Noite, és uma fonte de energia e de mistério, diferente do dia, pois em ti penso e contigo realizo os meus sonhos.&lt;br /&gt;Esta noite é distinta…não pode haver nada no mundo que me tire isto, de dentro para fora, como se de nada tratasse.&lt;br /&gt;Hoje volto a reencontrar a rapariga que em tempos foi diferente, e agora mudou para melhor.&lt;br /&gt;O típico som de uma porta a fechar entra-me nos ouvidos, quebrando o silêncio, e neste instante arranjo o cabelo pela última vez, e ajeito a t-shirt, na esperança de acalmar os nervos miudinhos que se apoderam de mim.&lt;br /&gt;Ali está ela! Bela, sincera, deslumbrante, como nunca a vi…deixo os encantos penetrar a minha mente, como se estivesse possuído por algo bom. O corpo parece uma obra-prima, de tão bela e formosa.&lt;br /&gt;Em passos de princesa, enfeitiça os que a rodeiam. Os seus cabelos são como fios de seda, e os olhos, de uma beleza inacreditável e perfeita.&lt;br /&gt;Nesta noite não observo a lua, mas sim a rapariga por quem vendo o espaço infinito onde giram os astros. Ilusão…ilusão liberta uma ideia de fantasia que não merece estar junto de mim. Encaro, este pensamento lembrando, a realidade.&lt;br /&gt;A pureza que vai no ar é graças a esta rapariga, que mudou com o tempo, e neste tempo a obra-prima manifesta o seu verdadeiro valor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-2973737229897445008?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/2973737229897445008/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/rapariga-que-enfeitica.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2973737229897445008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2973737229897445008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/rapariga-que-enfeitica.html' title='Rapariga Que Enfeitiça'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScWKtwqAfgI/AAAAAAAAACQ/2Q43iWEQHRI/s72-c/BXK4729_paisagem-lua-sobre-praia800-thumb%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-7438329148707062130</id><published>2009-03-20T19:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-04-01T01:35:08.876+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Caminha Pela Areia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScQH0MCcTxI/AAAAAAAAACI/uIgbhFf-RiI/s1600-h/desert_on_sunset%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315382053370089234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 246px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScQH0MCcTxI/AAAAAAAAACI/uIgbhFf-RiI/s320/desert_on_sunset%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;O silêncio corria parado!&lt;br /&gt;Deserto este que não se movia.&lt;br /&gt;Caminhava sufocante&lt;br /&gt;Água…essa não havia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Procurava para lá do horizonte&lt;br /&gt;O que esta areia escondia.&lt;br /&gt;Será terra, ou mar?&lt;br /&gt;Para quê sonhar?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O sol enterra-se de cores incríveis!&lt;br /&gt;Escondendo-se devagar&lt;br /&gt;Lá vai ele...&lt;br /&gt;Dando o céu ao luar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Magnífico…&lt;br /&gt;Mas continuo passo a passo&lt;br /&gt;Por fim boas visões&lt;br /&gt;Será terra, ou mar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Água cristalina…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É um brotar de beleza&lt;br /&gt;O corte entre o céu e o oceano&lt;br /&gt;Tudo pintado de azul!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-7438329148707062130?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/7438329148707062130/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/caminha-pela-areia.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7438329148707062130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7438329148707062130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/caminha-pela-areia.html' title='Caminha Pela Areia'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScQH0MCcTxI/AAAAAAAAACI/uIgbhFf-RiI/s72-c/desert_on_sunset%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-5559299876730642136</id><published>2009-03-20T00:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-04-01T01:37:26.730+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Surge o Martírio</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScLwUqwDMbI/AAAAAAAAAB4/7gfeLLd9lWo/s1600-h/demonologiaou5%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315074748114481586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 208px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScLwUqwDMbI/AAAAAAAAAB4/7gfeLLd9lWo/s320/demonologiaou5%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Dizem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; que o caminho, é distante,&lt;br /&gt;Contam-me que não tem fim...&lt;br /&gt;Avisaram que era arrepiante&lt;br /&gt;Enquanto andava, pensavam em mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Criavam-se as histórias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Nasciam as lendas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Evoluíam-se memórias.&lt;br /&gt;De olhos tapados, com vendas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os gritos percorriam os montes&lt;br /&gt;O sangue escorria pelo vale&lt;br /&gt;O céu ficava vermelho...&lt;br /&gt;Cresciam demónios do mal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As trevas dominavam o mundo&lt;br /&gt;As nuvens tornavam-se cinzentas...&lt;br /&gt;O horizonte expressou-se mudo&lt;br /&gt;E as vidas ficaram irrequietas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deparava-me pelo meio dos trilhos&lt;br /&gt;Rodeado de longas searas...&lt;br /&gt;Caminhava e &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;observava&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Seria alguém?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas o manto negro caiu!&lt;br /&gt;Ergueram-se poderosas labaredas...&lt;br /&gt;A fronteira do inferno emergiu&lt;br /&gt;E das profundezas sobressaiu.&lt;br /&gt;Dominantes olhos, de sabor a carnificina,&lt;br /&gt;Olhava hipnotizado!&lt;br /&gt;Pensei estar acabado...&lt;br /&gt;Foi então que brotou um desejo&lt;br /&gt;E de todos os meus poros&lt;br /&gt;Fora expelido o sangue.&lt;br /&gt;Caí...revirei os olhos.&lt;br /&gt;E...&lt;br /&gt;Morri!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-5559299876730642136?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/5559299876730642136/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/surge-o-martirio.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5559299876730642136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5559299876730642136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/surge-o-martirio.html' title='Surge o Martírio'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScLwUqwDMbI/AAAAAAAAAB4/7gfeLLd9lWo/s72-c/demonologiaou5%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-7753138375012144493</id><published>2009-03-19T01:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-04-01T01:38:26.590+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Absurdo Desejo De Vanessa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScGbUrXnjBI/AAAAAAAAABw/K4PUqOuM9rY/s1600-h/mulher_2_ladyofmysterytop%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314699814815370258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 272px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScGbUrXnjBI/AAAAAAAAABw/K4PUqOuM9rY/s320/mulher_2_ladyofmysterytop%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Que tréguas de aflição…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amor aquele só.&lt;br /&gt;Pensamento perdido&lt;br /&gt;Momento de dó&lt;br /&gt;Outrora esquecido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Havia excitação…&lt;br /&gt;Apre moça fogosa!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estava errado certamente!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Fazia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; parte do instante perdido&lt;br /&gt;Tal &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ápice&lt;/span&gt; descabidos&lt;br /&gt;De puro sentimento, sentido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não suponha ideia…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saltava o imaginário&lt;br /&gt;Mentes do absurdo&lt;br /&gt;De um mundo contrário&lt;br /&gt;Sonhos do futuro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nem olhava ambição…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desejava a cortesã!&lt;br /&gt;Ardente ansiosa&lt;br /&gt;Perdida em memória.&lt;br /&gt;Aguardava de nu impaciente…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tolice esperta, essa!&lt;br /&gt;Castigava do disparate&lt;br /&gt;Bondade? Talvez…&lt;br /&gt;Eram amantes de Vanessa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O cúmplice vagueia…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De fininho anda ele!&lt;br /&gt;Perdido?&lt;br /&gt;Este senhor bem vestido?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Dizem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; que não é gente&lt;br /&gt;Esta alma somente carente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-7753138375012144493?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/7753138375012144493/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/absurdo-desejo-de-vanessa.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7753138375012144493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/7753138375012144493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/absurdo-desejo-de-vanessa.html' title='Absurdo Desejo De Vanessa'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScGbUrXnjBI/AAAAAAAAABw/K4PUqOuM9rY/s72-c/mulher_2_ladyofmysterytop%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-689328511577349202</id><published>2009-03-18T23:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-04-01T01:38:54.710+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tragédia de Amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScGJNUOMANI/AAAAAAAAABo/AAD63wcwZkw/s1600-h/Vazio%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314679897133416658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScGJNUOMANI/AAAAAAAAABo/AAD63wcwZkw/s320/Vazio%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;O que posso fazer por ti?&lt;br /&gt;A tristeza domina-me…quero ajudar, mas não sei como?&lt;br /&gt;Ela está doente, e só um milagre a salva.&lt;br /&gt;Perdido estou…morto, arrasado. Sentado no canto escuro da nossa casa, imaginando-a a entrar por aquela porta e dizer” Estou de volta!”, mas estes pensamentos apenas me vão destruindo mais e mais…&lt;br /&gt;Choro por ela, até cair. Pergunto-me a mim próprio.&lt;br /&gt;Porquê?!&lt;br /&gt;Porquê tu?!&lt;br /&gt;A minha vida não é nada sem ti! Só dor…só sofrimento! Tudo pela pessoa que vai morrendo, pouco a pouco, como se, alguém lhe tirasse o espírito…&lt;br /&gt;Olho pela janela. Que lua espectacular, vem a ser esta? Que desconsidera os meus sentimentos que se fecham no peito, deixando cicatriz.&lt;br /&gt;O silêncio é quebrado pelo telefone, certamente são notícias dela. Com movimentos bruscos, corro para atender.&lt;br /&gt;- Estou! Sim é o próprio, diga…&lt;br /&gt;As piores, chegaram! Deixo cair o telefone sem reacção nas minhas mãos. Caio de seguida no chão, como se me tirassem a vida…agora sim, posso morrer, pois a minha vida não tem mais significado!&lt;br /&gt;Penso, por breves instantes, sobre a maneira mais rápida de me matar. Nisto olho para a varanda. Levanto-me depressa e, numa corrida feroz atiro-me do vigésimo andar.&lt;br /&gt;Os últimos momentos que me lembro foram o, impacto no chão árduo. Agora ao pé da minha mulher eu digo que, não importa o sofrimento que se sente, pois volto sempre a reencontrar a minha razão de viver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-689328511577349202?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/689328511577349202/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/tragedia-de-amor.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/689328511577349202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/689328511577349202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/tragedia-de-amor.html' title='Tragédia de Amor'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScGJNUOMANI/AAAAAAAAABo/AAD63wcwZkw/s72-c/Vazio%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-209511446066016016</id><published>2009-03-18T21:29:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-04-01T01:39:38.924+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Confronto Perdido Em Palavras</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScFo97jxj-I/AAAAAAAAABg/I5ohetvO1LE/s1600-h/pensadorodin2%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314644448442945506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 230px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScFo97jxj-I/AAAAAAAAABg/I5ohetvO1LE/s320/pensadorodin2%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Um toque único, em águas tremulas,&lt;br /&gt;Mostrando o seu caminho, seu rumo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um erguer relevante&lt;br /&gt;Vanglória, gloria, sentido...&lt;br /&gt;Ter timbre&lt;br /&gt;Demonstrando não ser perdido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alçar gente num acto, ardente,&lt;br /&gt;Instruir-me de significado&lt;br /&gt;Indicando algo, amado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ver para lá, do que não consigo observar,&lt;br /&gt;E pensava eu conseguir voar!&lt;br /&gt;Quando ainda mal provei esta terra&lt;br /&gt;Onde nem nela, palpei inveja...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Curtas hostilidades, poder ao repelir a força,&lt;br /&gt;Suster a respiração, ousadamente...&lt;br /&gt;Batimentos do coração, incrédulos de emoção.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olha para mim!&lt;br /&gt;Serei o que estas a ver?!&lt;br /&gt;Melhor...tentar prever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E nisto cobicei a ganância!&lt;br /&gt;Destrui o que era estimado...&lt;br /&gt;Evoquei a extravagância.&lt;br /&gt;Para mim que sou requintado...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sim...eu vi o céu expoente&lt;br /&gt;Aquele de feição remanescente&lt;br /&gt;Sozinho em, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;candente&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;Perdido numa luz, imponente...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-209511446066016016?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/209511446066016016/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/confronto-perdido-em-palavras.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/209511446066016016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/209511446066016016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/confronto-perdido-em-palavras.html' title='Confronto Perdido Em Palavras'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScFo97jxj-I/AAAAAAAAABg/I5ohetvO1LE/s72-c/pensadorodin2%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-1935510354367858524</id><published>2009-03-18T21:24:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-04-01T01:40:42.754+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Região Secreta</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScFngaQmdaI/AAAAAAAAABY/liceWuHavXs/s1600-h/F-Montes%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314642841776321954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScFngaQmdaI/AAAAAAAAABY/liceWuHavXs/s320/F-Montes%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;No horizonte adormece o sol, que esteve grandioso o dia todo, e nessa linha de contacto entre o céu e a terra, amanhã, ele voltará a brotar, e manifestará a sua radiosa luz.&lt;br /&gt;Da paisagem nascem montes, de uma dimensão inacreditável, que parece perfurar o céu, e o inferno.&lt;br /&gt;A brisa percorre a região, que ao senti-la desleixo os sentimentos que me vão.&lt;br /&gt;O rio, rasga por montes e vales, invadindo a mais pequena fenda de terra por entre a escuridão do vale. Nele, a percepção do rio, fica marcada no solo árduo de tal local.&lt;br /&gt;Sei, que aqui não haverá nenhum tremor, vindo das trevas.&lt;br /&gt;A harmonia deste, lugar era secreta! Porque, já mais, alguém a descobriu. Até ao dia, que eu a avistei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escrito na viagem à Benquerença. Inspirado nas observações durante a viagem. Em 25/04/08.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-1935510354367858524?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/1935510354367858524/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/regiao-secreta.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1935510354367858524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1935510354367858524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/regiao-secreta.html' title='Região Secreta'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScFngaQmdaI/AAAAAAAAABY/liceWuHavXs/s72-c/F-Montes%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-1092761666400670346</id><published>2009-03-18T21:09:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-04-17T02:01:08.424+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Crescer Sentindo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SeOzrgVwljI/AAAAAAAAAEk/23NuX_g7PKo/s1600-h/nuvens-andradas%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324296744479004210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 216px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SeOzrgVwljI/AAAAAAAAAEk/23NuX_g7PKo/s320/nuvens-andradas%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Suave esta brisa&lt;br /&gt;Que desliza sobre a paisagem&lt;br /&gt;Observo atentamente…&lt;br /&gt;Magia voa pela aragem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sobressai o desejo&lt;br /&gt;Sob o que vejo&lt;br /&gt;A paisagem onde o sol brota&lt;br /&gt;Os montes arredondados de beleza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aí vai…&lt;br /&gt;Mais uma folha caída&lt;br /&gt;Lá vai ela desprevenida&lt;br /&gt;Pelo vento que leva a sua vida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liberdade sentida&lt;br /&gt;Alegria emotiva&lt;br /&gt;Como o pássaro que voa&lt;br /&gt;E a folha que cai sobre a água&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nuvem passageira&lt;br /&gt;Que deixas cair chuva alheia&lt;br /&gt;O que fazes aqui?&lt;br /&gt;Cinzento triste de mágoa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chora da sua cor&lt;br /&gt;Lágrimas indignadas&lt;br /&gt;Volta a brisa agora molhada&lt;br /&gt;Desta chuva quase parada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vislumbro este manto&lt;br /&gt;Criado pelo líquido transparente&lt;br /&gt;Que reflexo cria o lago?&lt;br /&gt;Depois desta calma descendente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Volta o vento, deslizando,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Faz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; dançar as árvores&lt;br /&gt;Salpicando áspero solo&lt;br /&gt;Como um paraíso de bondade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lindíssimo fazer parte do amanhecer&lt;br /&gt;O esplendor do sítio sagrado&lt;br /&gt;E num olhar amado renascer e viver&lt;br /&gt;Constantemente ser o que sou&lt;br /&gt;Ou… Serei eu uma flor?&lt;br /&gt;Onde a brisa voa&lt;br /&gt;A folha cai&lt;br /&gt;O sol nasce&lt;br /&gt;A chuva passa&lt;br /&gt;E eu cresço&lt;br /&gt;Pois assim mereço… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-1092761666400670346?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/1092761666400670346/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/crescer-sentindo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1092761666400670346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1092761666400670346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/crescer-sentindo.html' title='Crescer Sentindo'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/SeOzrgVwljI/AAAAAAAAAEk/23NuX_g7PKo/s72-c/nuvens-andradas%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-1998555607138853198</id><published>2009-03-18T20:05:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-04-01T01:42:06.157+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Desejos Amados</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScFXjQbhs3I/AAAAAAAAAAk/hkEnF51QK0g/s1600-h/maos22tytytyttyty%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314625298491356018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 234px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScFXjQbhs3I/AAAAAAAAAAk/hkEnF51QK0g/s320/maos22tytytyttyty%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Despida assim&lt;br /&gt;Perante mim…&lt;br /&gt;Demonstrando a pureza&lt;br /&gt;E a minha fraqueza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cabelos caídos&lt;br /&gt;Sentidos como seda&lt;br /&gt;Embora eu mereça&lt;br /&gt;Tal certeza…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olhos de reflexo constante&lt;br /&gt;Penetrantes e provocantes&lt;br /&gt;De azul mar…&lt;br /&gt;E agora se eu olhar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aproxima-se do meu corpo&lt;br /&gt;Só mais um pouco…&lt;br /&gt;Agora troco a respiração&lt;br /&gt;Ao batimento do seu coração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agarramo-nos suavemente&lt;br /&gt;Com excitação crescente&lt;br /&gt;Colamos os lábios&lt;br /&gt;Sem fôlego…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Avançamos para algo mais&lt;br /&gt;Sem detalhes a descrever…&lt;br /&gt;Tornamo-nos sábios&lt;br /&gt;De tais desejos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O colar de olhares directos&lt;br /&gt;Faz sentimentos&lt;br /&gt;Com a palavra amada…&lt;br /&gt;Que é o amor!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25/11/08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-1998555607138853198?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/1998555607138853198/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/desejos-amados.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1998555607138853198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/1998555607138853198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/desejos-amados.html' title='Desejos Amados'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScFXjQbhs3I/AAAAAAAAAAk/hkEnF51QK0g/s72-c/maos22tytytyttyty%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-2170073930249296461</id><published>2009-03-18T19:49:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-04-01T01:46:27.255+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Lua doce lua</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScFRL0BACMI/AAAAAAAAAAc/VlxxFoUqV3M/s1600-h/seaoftranquility1600%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314618298657147074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScFRL0BACMI/AAAAAAAAAAc/VlxxFoUqV3M/s320/seaoftranquility1600%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Lua doce lua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Apenas tu minha lua&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Crescente ardor&lt;br /&gt;De brilho e primor&lt;br /&gt;Suave e distante,&lt;br /&gt;Talvez navegante...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lua doce lua&lt;br /&gt;Apenas tu minha lua&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De marcas profundas&lt;br /&gt;Esquecidas...&lt;br /&gt;Serão para sempre&lt;br /&gt;Mais do que censuras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apenas tu minha lua&lt;br /&gt;Lua doce lua&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esquece o passado&lt;br /&gt;Ama o presente...&lt;br /&gt;De cristalino reflexo&lt;br /&gt;Cria um amor perplexo&lt;br /&gt;Onde a lua, parada,&lt;br /&gt;Torna-se tímida e cortada...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-2170073930249296461?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/2170073930249296461/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/lua-doce-lua.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2170073930249296461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2170073930249296461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/lua-doce-lua.html' title='Lua doce lua'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScFRL0BACMI/AAAAAAAAAAc/VlxxFoUqV3M/s72-c/seaoftranquility1600%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-5582013550021275928</id><published>2009-03-18T19:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-04-01T01:44:57.520+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Expressão Incompleta</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScFPoUNuRsI/AAAAAAAAAAU/rP6nd4YWHhA/s1600-h/Madeira%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314616589313525442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScFPoUNuRsI/AAAAAAAAAAU/rP6nd4YWHhA/s320/Madeira%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Por um meio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Junto da natureza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Expresso-me cheio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;De sentimentos de realeza.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Sentido único&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Arte realista&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Olhar obscuro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Com poder de artista.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Pintura expressiva&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;De corpo e espírito&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Torna-se viva…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Á velocidade de um grito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-5582013550021275928?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/5582013550021275928/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/expressao-incompleta.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5582013550021275928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/5582013550021275928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/expressao-incompleta.html' title='Expressão Incompleta'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScFPoUNuRsI/AAAAAAAAAAU/rP6nd4YWHhA/s72-c/Madeira%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185820114559342007.post-2695313551507580419</id><published>2009-03-18T19:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-04-01T01:45:37.080+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Música, ritmo, vida</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScFJZkUmMqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Veay67XGmOI/s1600-h/42-16135088%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314609738869519010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 318px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScFJZkUmMqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Veay67XGmOI/s320/42-16135088%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A música é lenta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;O ritmo é suave&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A vida é serena&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;No escuro se abre!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Em melodias fantásticas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A lua cresce...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Espero só pelas lágrima&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Que apenas ela merece.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filipe Pires&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6185820114559342007-2695313551507580419?l=palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/feeds/2695313551507580419/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/musica-ritmo-vida.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2695313551507580419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6185820114559342007/posts/default/2695313551507580419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://palavrasdefundo.blogspot.com/2009/03/musica-ritmo-vida.html' title='Música, ritmo, vida'/><author><name>Filipe Pires</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15916842231616229162</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='15' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ADVyM_6B8gU/TXcAX8cshqI/AAAAAAAAAUU/22990WqsQ_4/s220/183560_1586271217744_1264680685_31243940_1087479_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9GsPKyLRtA0/ScFJZkUmMqI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Veay67XGmOI/s72-c/42-16135088%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
