<?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-2497270724479182380</id><updated>2012-02-16T08:53:14.318-02:00</updated><category term='desejo'/><category term='poesias'/><category term='poemas'/><category term='porto alegre'/><title type='text'>Onde estão meus dedos?</title><subtitle type='html'>Um baixista.
Um artista.
Um poeta.
Um escritor.


Um pouco de cada.


Um pedaço de nada.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>44</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-3981572975200851088</id><published>2010-01-01T17:55:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T17:56:34.583-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Michael Jackson</title><content type='html'>A place with no name&lt;br /&gt;Another part of me&lt;br /&gt;Farewell my summer love&lt;br /&gt;Blood on the dance floor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give it on me&lt;br /&gt;Human nature&lt;br /&gt;I just can't stop loving you&lt;br /&gt;I want you back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be there&lt;br /&gt;Keep the faith&lt;br /&gt;I'll be there&lt;br /&gt;Pretty young thing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no more beat it&lt;br /&gt;There's no more beat it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say...say...say&lt;br /&gt;I wanna rock with you&lt;br /&gt;Smooth criminal&lt;br /&gt;You're not alone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say...say...say&lt;br /&gt;This is it&lt;br /&gt;Black or white&lt;br /&gt;Speechless&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-3981572975200851088?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/3981572975200851088/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=3981572975200851088' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/3981572975200851088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/3981572975200851088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2010/01/michael-jackson.html' title='Michael Jackson'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-1294859291572309878</id><published>2009-10-12T18:49:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T18:49:31.218-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Flames</title><content type='html'>Like an old gold mine&lt;br /&gt;Your vision pass throught my mind&lt;br /&gt;Shinny light, shining star&lt;br /&gt;Facing desire into your eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you cold be all mine&lt;br /&gt;As life pass me by&lt;br /&gt;Untill the day I die&lt;br /&gt;Your hand stealing my heart&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-1294859291572309878?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/1294859291572309878/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=1294859291572309878' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/1294859291572309878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/1294859291572309878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2009/10/flames.html' title='Flames'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-8082263311240756852</id><published>2009-10-07T22:20:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T22:20:57.207-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Day / Night</title><content type='html'>Through the mistery&lt;br /&gt;Of the dawn of the day&lt;br /&gt;The rising sun sets&lt;br /&gt;His flashes of light away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the deepest night&lt;br /&gt;We together stay awake&lt;br /&gt;And as we look to each other&lt;br /&gt;We forget time and space&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are the reason why&lt;br /&gt;There is love in my eyes&lt;br /&gt;Just staring at your face&lt;br /&gt;I know you'll always be mine&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-8082263311240756852?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/8082263311240756852/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=8082263311240756852' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/8082263311240756852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/8082263311240756852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2009/10/day-night.html' title='Day / Night'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-6994140705880090447</id><published>2009-09-16T23:22:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T23:23:53.470-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Avenida</title><content type='html'>Camisa preta engomada&lt;br /&gt;Calça beje amarrotada&lt;br /&gt;Corrida longa e desengonçada&lt;br /&gt;Olhar estático, frustrada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caminho longo e semeado&lt;br /&gt;De um futuro bem tratado&lt;br /&gt;Os dedos nervosos e cruzados&lt;br /&gt;A pele seca, amargurado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E lá no meio da estrada&lt;br /&gt;Com o coração na mão&lt;br /&gt;No cruzamento dos olhares&lt;br /&gt;O desejo de ser amada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Num segundo se perde&lt;br /&gt;A abrupta força da mente&lt;br /&gt;Sentindo ferver o azul celeste&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo que sempre seguindo em frente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E logo que a visão&lt;br /&gt;Da rua, da multidão&lt;br /&gt;Toma conta dos olhares&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toda a intensidade perece&lt;br /&gt;E a flor mais bela do jardim&lt;br /&gt;É engolida friamente pelos mares&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-6994140705880090447?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/6994140705880090447/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=6994140705880090447' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/6994140705880090447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/6994140705880090447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2009/09/avenida.html' title='Avenida'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-4119237673794389668</id><published>2009-09-09T19:37:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T19:37:55.466-03:00</updated><title type='text'>São Paulo</title><content type='html'>Numa doce e chuvosa noite de sexta&lt;br /&gt;Com o céu cinza cálido&lt;br /&gt;Olhando ao alto como quem inventa&lt;br /&gt;A poesia da morte, inspirado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nem as linguas d'água que traziam&lt;br /&gt;A anunciação do velho dia&lt;br /&gt;Do sol poente derretido&lt;br /&gt;Do vento louco enrubescido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A animosidade se valia&lt;br /&gt;Das frágeis marcas de seu pulso&lt;br /&gt;Corado a vermelho sangue&lt;br /&gt;Na dança da eternidade fria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E como bixo se desfaz&lt;br /&gt;A alegre tentação da vida&lt;br /&gt;Levando ao alto a glória&lt;br /&gt;De um limpo sorriso sagaz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-4119237673794389668?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/4119237673794389668/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=4119237673794389668' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/4119237673794389668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/4119237673794389668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2009/09/sao-paulo.html' title='São Paulo'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-2368988129431109949</id><published>2009-08-17T15:52:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T15:55:24.963-03:00</updated><title type='text'>The Saddest Day</title><content type='html'>It's the saddest day (ever)&lt;br /&gt;You left me without a smile&lt;br /&gt;But I'll keep on trying&lt;br /&gt;To get u by my side once again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate to know&lt;br /&gt;That I'm going home&lt;br /&gt;And you'll not be there&lt;br /&gt;I hate this same old road&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please let me try&lt;br /&gt;To smile in this empty room&lt;br /&gt;Please let me try&lt;br /&gt;To make things right&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh! It's the saddest day (ever)&lt;br /&gt;And I don't have you by my side&lt;br /&gt;I walked many miles&lt;br /&gt;But it just don't changed my mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please let me try&lt;br /&gt;To smile in this empty room&lt;br /&gt;Please let me try&lt;br /&gt;I need you to be mine&lt;br /&gt;Please let me try&lt;br /&gt;To smile in this empty room&lt;br /&gt;Please let me try&lt;br /&gt;To make things right&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-2368988129431109949?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/2368988129431109949/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=2368988129431109949' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/2368988129431109949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/2368988129431109949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2009/08/saddest-day.html' title='The Saddest Day'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-8202864352497486635</id><published>2009-08-09T17:10:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T17:14:17.780-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Infinito</title><content type='html'>Vejo teus olhos tão cansados de olhar para o alto&lt;br /&gt;Sem nem mesmo perceber que não estás mais sozinho&lt;br /&gt;Tão belas são as flores sobre teu peito&lt;br /&gt;tão pesada é a coroa que temos que carregar&lt;br /&gt;Até sua nova moradia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As horas correm em lágrimas que descem as faces&lt;br /&gt;Amores profanos e companheiros latentes&lt;br /&gt;Todos vêem o mesmo rosto, pálida, com um sorriso&lt;br /&gt;Que se manterá eternamente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Benção e orações curam tuas chagas&lt;br /&gt;Tua alma se separa, a vida se depara&lt;br /&gt;Com seu insólito recomeço&lt;br /&gt;É hora de fechar o ciclo, é hora de descançar&lt;br /&gt;Fechem as portas do inferno e deixe-nos relembrar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todos os momentos em vão&lt;br /&gt;Os muros de libertações e a escuridão da incerteza...&lt;br /&gt;Deixe-nos relembrar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cala tua boca eternamente para que nunca mais o povo ouça a verdade de ti.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-8202864352497486635?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/8202864352497486635/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=8202864352497486635' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/8202864352497486635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/8202864352497486635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2009/08/infinito.html' title='Infinito'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-3651873578242491778</id><published>2009-07-26T00:30:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T00:30:42.496-03:00</updated><title type='text'>MSN Log</title><content type='html'>Parado t admiro sem saber&lt;br /&gt;Q na realidade ali naum eh vc&lt;br /&gt;A verdade, quem diria ta escondida&lt;br /&gt;Numa janela tao cheia d vida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sou apenas palavras no seu coraçao&lt;br /&gt;Sem vida e sem satisfaçao&lt;br /&gt;Na verdade naum quero + viver&lt;br /&gt;Msm querendo todo tempo estar com vc&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um dia sei q vc vera&lt;br /&gt;Todas as lagrimas q correm&lt;br /&gt;Quando vc vai embora e me deixa&lt;br /&gt;Sei q os meus sentimentos ali morrem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sou apenas palavras no seu coraçao&lt;br /&gt;Sem vida e sem satisfaçao&lt;br /&gt;Na verdade naum quero + viver&lt;br /&gt;Msm querendo todo tempo estar com vc&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na verdade não sei pq lhe falei&lt;br /&gt;Q lhe amava tanto&lt;br /&gt;Msm sabendo q nunca vi vc&lt;br /&gt;Fico parado em frente a janela em prantos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tda historia tem seu fim&lt;br /&gt;E a nossa ja acabou&lt;br /&gt;Mas ainda releio as folhas&lt;br /&gt;Pra lembrar do nosso (L)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-3651873578242491778?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/3651873578242491778/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=3651873578242491778' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/3651873578242491778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/3651873578242491778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2009/07/msn-log.html' title='MSN Log'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-5273985865588926948</id><published>2009-07-03T09:28:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T09:37:32.372-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Onde estão meus dedos?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;O piano tocava lamurias de um tango&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dançando pelo salão agarrava-te firme a meu braços&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Olhava as profundas trocas de olhares&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Procurando não se soltar dos braços castos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As pernas entrelaçadas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O suor correndo pelo corpo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Um arrepio quente&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O ardor da melancolia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A gaita pontuava o sorriso&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O grande momento da vitória&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Onde &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;subjugado&lt;/span&gt; o corpo se estendia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E deixava insurgir a memória&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu sentado olhando&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A dança que representa os medos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me perguntava de quando em quando&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Onde estão meus dedos?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seguros com a caneta em punho&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Alucinados&lt;/span&gt; transcreviam o amor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mas em palavras sem vida&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Descrevendo o movimento da flor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que numa dança, apenas uma&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Explicava o sentido da vida&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Encerrado em notas de tom maior&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A severidade do corpo, desaparecida&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-5273985865588926948?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/5273985865588926948/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=5273985865588926948' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/5273985865588926948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/5273985865588926948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2009/07/onde-estao-meus-dedos.html' title='Onde estão meus dedos?'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-8531116972544801205</id><published>2009-06-15T17:23:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T17:23:36.312-03:00</updated><title type='text'>David H.</title><content type='html'>O diálogo não é certeza&lt;br /&gt;A fala não canta deuses&lt;br /&gt;Do amargo féu do teu vocabulário&lt;br /&gt;Ouço com o lhar, em tua face&lt;br /&gt;                    [a tristeza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A idéia do infinito abandona&lt;br /&gt;Os dedos ávidos e habilidosos&lt;br /&gt;Da mão que roubou os lábio&lt;br /&gt;Que movia, mesmo sem falar&lt;br /&gt;                    [a beleza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há de uniformizar&lt;br /&gt;A natureza do passado&lt;br /&gt;Tão calado e tímido&lt;br /&gt;Num paradoxo formal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Língua e toques&lt;br /&gt;Não desgazem o que se foi&lt;br /&gt;E não garantem que irá voltar&lt;br /&gt;Os afagos perdidos pelos olhares&lt;br /&gt;                     [dos amantes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-8531116972544801205?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/8531116972544801205/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=8531116972544801205' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/8531116972544801205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/8531116972544801205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2009/06/david-h.html' title='David H.'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-1840559749694816276</id><published>2009-06-11T23:57:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T00:02:25.236-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Adeus</title><content type='html'>Quem te viu passar assim tão bela&lt;br /&gt;Não soube descrever o momento&lt;br /&gt;As horas pulsando no relógio&lt;br /&gt;O atraso do encontro de minh'alma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vem ver o que restou&lt;br /&gt;Das cinzas do fogo eterno&lt;br /&gt;Até parece arritmado&lt;br /&gt;Mas no fim simplesmente calo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O ardor dos olhos poentes&lt;br /&gt;A escada que leva pra baixo&lt;br /&gt;O momento sublime do fim&lt;br /&gt;O início novamente inesperado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aquelas que viram quando passou&lt;br /&gt;Não souberam descrever o momento&lt;br /&gt;Intensa agonia, dura e fria&lt;br /&gt;Daquele teu olhar sem sentimento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De frente encaro o desespero&lt;br /&gt;Do tão breve adeus, sereno&lt;br /&gt;Sigo apenas as batidas fracas&lt;br /&gt;Das horas que pulsaram naquele momento&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-1840559749694816276?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/1840559749694816276/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=1840559749694816276' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/1840559749694816276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/1840559749694816276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2009/06/adeus.html' title='Adeus'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-1711520480569000141</id><published>2009-05-30T19:43:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T19:46:48.132-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Hei de te ver sorrir!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Dama de belos olhos cansados&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;De vestido longo bordado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dos cabelos lisos cuidados&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Do sorriso brilhante e calado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;De um suave toque arrepiado&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dona das minhas ânsias em farrapos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jogadas como que cordas em um barco&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Enosadas em teus sapatos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Estremecido me calo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No descanso dos teus braços&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No teatro dos ternos abraços&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me alegra teu descaso&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A todos aqueles cansados&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;De tentar desfazer os laços&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que nossos corpos mantém atados&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-1711520480569000141?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/1711520480569000141/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=1711520480569000141' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/1711520480569000141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/1711520480569000141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2009/05/hei-de-te-ver-sorrir.html' title='Hei de te ver sorrir!'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-3126981333267468265</id><published>2009-05-25T16:54:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T19:43:23.655-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Breve</title><content type='html'>Breve é uma palavra com quatro letras:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;D&lt;/span&gt;ê a todos o respeito do silêncio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;E&lt;/span&gt;stará sempre mais sutil e mais belo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;U&lt;/span&gt;se de sua ingênuidade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;iga em frente, o destino te aguarda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;E&lt;/span&gt;ssa noite que te envolve&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;empre um tom acima&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;em por prática verbal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;doração em teoria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;M&lt;/span&gt;esmo que a ti se refere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;O&lt;/span&gt;utras vozes irão cegar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;R&lt;/span&gt;emetendo a um só breve&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;itubenate cintilar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;O&lt;/span&gt;nipotente e singular&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breve se descreve no pesar&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-3126981333267468265?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/3126981333267468265/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=3126981333267468265' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/3126981333267468265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/3126981333267468265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2009/05/breve.html' title='Breve'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-8082308575576860643</id><published>2009-05-19T12:18:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T12:19:06.374-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poesias'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poemas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='porto alegre'/><title type='text'>Multidão</title><content type='html'>Sem aviso são teus passos&lt;br /&gt;Livre escolha com destino&lt;br /&gt;Pré-lançado no profundo mar&lt;br /&gt;De inconstância do dia-a-dia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Então o dia passou e o infinito que restou&lt;br /&gt;Deixou pra trás os longos cachos&lt;br /&gt;A incerteza do valor&lt;br /&gt;De tudo o que nos certa&lt;br /&gt;Do escuro azul do céu&lt;br /&gt;Os olhos embotados com vestigios de amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Com pegadas, marcas mil&lt;br /&gt;Os corações de quem chorou&lt;br /&gt;As lágrimas suspiram e deliram já no chão&lt;br /&gt;E assim com passos largos&lt;br /&gt;Corre a frente com ardor&lt;br /&gt;Muito rápido se perde&lt;br /&gt;Nos meus pensamento...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Multidão.......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-8082308575576860643?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/8082308575576860643/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=8082308575576860643' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/8082308575576860643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/8082308575576860643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2009/05/multidao.html' title='Multidão'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-5920259301248678430</id><published>2009-05-18T13:06:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T13:09:35.418-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversas ao Nascer do Sol I</title><content type='html'>- Eu to acordado!&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Que bom, olha para o lado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Que que tem?&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Olha...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Sim, a janela e daí?&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Olha através dela, o dia tá nascendo, consegues ver?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Nunca tinha reparado que essa janela da de frente pro nascer do sol.&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Assim como nunca se deu conta das pequenas coisas que nos fazem feliz, como um simples nascer do sol. Esse céu que começa a se abrir em raios de luz, é como o anoitecer, só que ao contrário, tudo é exatamente igual, porém é o oposto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Até parece que tá falando de nós, como se fossemos um o contrário do outro, como se eu fosse a noite que acaba com o dia, a doença que destói a saúde.&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Talvez, mas acho que é hora de calar e ver o sol nascer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Longa pausa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Porquê?&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;O quê?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Por que tem que ser assim?&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Assim como?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- O dia vai terminar de amanhecer e você vai embora sem olhar pra trás, chegamos no fim, isso dói.&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu vejo, eu sinto, mas não tem mais jeito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Eu não tenho mais jeito?&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Eu não tenho mais jeito!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- E quem é "eu"?&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A pergunta devida é "quem sou eu?".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Você não tem mais jeito?&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;O sol nasce através da janela todos os dias, quanto tempo você mora aqui?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Isso não me responde.&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A resposta foi a mais apropriada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Não se deve responder com uma pergunta.&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Não se deve perguntar o que já se sabe a resposta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Pausa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Vai acabar em breve.&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;É, eu sei.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- O que posso fazer para mudar isso?&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mais um raio de sol!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Para com isso, me diz, o que devo fazer?&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;São 5:15.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Não sei mais, então deixa o sol nascer...&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;O silêncio é o melhor dos presentes...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- ...pra quem nunca te deu nada!&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Vindo de quem me deu o mundo, ele significa a vida.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Me perdoa?&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Pelo que?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Por ter sido só isso enquanto deveria ter sido tudo aquilo.&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Agora já passou...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- É, já passou, o sol já começou a aparecer, já passou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Em silêncio os dois terminaram de assistir o sol nascer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Um beijo no rosto e um adeus qeu ecoou como um até breve. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-5920259301248678430?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/5920259301248678430/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=5920259301248678430' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/5920259301248678430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/5920259301248678430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2009/05/conversas-ao-nascer-do-sol-i.html' title='Conversas ao Nascer do Sol I'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-5162201419990858751</id><published>2009-05-18T12:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T12:25:20.758-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Rumo a Lugar Algum</title><content type='html'>Me fala ao ouvido&lt;br /&gt;Quase que como planta&lt;br /&gt;Assim que volta ao final&lt;br /&gt;Que toca os pés&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senta ao meu lado&lt;br /&gt;Vive minha agônia&lt;br /&gt;Do ser por não ser&lt;br /&gt;De estar no mesmo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entre colchas e farrapos&lt;br /&gt;Os nossos pedaços&lt;br /&gt;Enlaçados nos meus braços&lt;br /&gt;Explicados em teus cabelos vastos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pegando com a mão&lt;br /&gt;Minha angústia do fato&lt;br /&gt;Da nossa útlima morada&lt;br /&gt;De todo fim premeditado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Da felicidade do acaso&lt;br /&gt;Nasce a flor do embaraço&lt;br /&gt;Em que calo a boca fraca&lt;br /&gt;Perante teus sorriso escaço&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E faço juras de dedos cruzados&lt;br /&gt;Falo palavras, descompaçado&lt;br /&gt;Entre um soluço e uma piada&lt;br /&gt;Pra lembrar a piedad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando te quero acalmar&lt;br /&gt;Só deixo de lado o que sou&lt;br /&gt;Ando com as pernas no ar&lt;br /&gt;Tropeço no rumo a trilhar&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-5162201419990858751?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/5162201419990858751/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=5162201419990858751' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/5162201419990858751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/5162201419990858751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2009/05/rumo-lugar-algum.html' title='Rumo a Lugar Algum'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-539253467786867302</id><published>2009-05-17T15:19:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T15:20:08.740-03:00</updated><title type='text'>O Olhar e o Espelho</title><content type='html'>Alegra-te meu bem&lt;br /&gt;Olha nos olhos meus&lt;br /&gt;O rio de mágoas&lt;br /&gt;Cobrado pelo espelho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Numa rara ilusão&lt;br /&gt;Do encejo de sorrir&lt;br /&gt;Quando os dentes&lt;br /&gt;Emplaidecem ao vento&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo incapaz de soletrar&lt;br /&gt;Os campos férteis das vogais&lt;br /&gt;Sem formar as lindas rosas&lt;br /&gt;Das palavras do sentimentos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando te toco!&lt;br /&gt;Quando te entendo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-539253467786867302?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/539253467786867302/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=539253467786867302' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/539253467786867302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/539253467786867302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2009/05/o-olhar-e-o-espelho.html' title='O Olhar e o Espelho'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-855138990089554398</id><published>2009-05-10T23:50:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T23:54:41.244-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Moderno</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Validade, permutação&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou o centro do nada&lt;br /&gt;Movendo meus dedos em direção&lt;br /&gt;A tudo aquilo que quero abalar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silêncio, adoração&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou o ruído mudo&lt;br /&gt;De um mundo reduto&lt;br /&gt;Deixo gritar o que cala&lt;br /&gt;Mando calar o que fala&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falácia, repreensão&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou o rei preso em minha jaula&lt;br /&gt;Não me gosto por entre ferros&lt;br /&gt;As barras de aço que me protegem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De todo o mal&lt;br /&gt;De tudo o que é válido&lt;br /&gt;E do silênio de tudo o que é falso&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14/04/09 - 19:46&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-855138990089554398?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/855138990089554398/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=855138990089554398' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/855138990089554398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/855138990089554398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2009/05/moderno.html' title='Moderno'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-1444508191621821478</id><published>2009-04-28T17:02:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T17:04:42.524-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Porto</title><content type='html'>Ah! Vôce&lt;br /&gt;Não olhou nos olhos do infinito.&lt;br /&gt;Tem medo de que?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vai! Você&lt;br /&gt;ver de longe o teu par&lt;br /&gt;Com as pernas a cruzar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O distante é mar&lt;br /&gt;Aproxima o cais&lt;br /&gt;Ancorando a flor&lt;br /&gt;Derramando paz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-1444508191621821478?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/1444508191621821478/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=1444508191621821478' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/1444508191621821478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/1444508191621821478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2009/04/porto.html' title='Porto'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-8722710718736835466</id><published>2009-03-25T16:41:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T16:46:05.053-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Poemanu</title><content type='html'>Olha o dia&lt;br /&gt;Céu anil&lt;br /&gt;As cores flutuantes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Veja o mar&lt;br /&gt;Sorrisos mil&lt;br /&gt;Eem nome do teu sangue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cala as flores&lt;br /&gt;Instigantes&lt;br /&gt;Lava teus cabelos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bota os olhos&lt;br /&gt;Cintilantes&lt;br /&gt;Esconde esse vermelho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah! Quem passou&lt;br /&gt;Um dia passara&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A imensidão, poema nú, delírio traz&lt;br /&gt;A escuridão do dia não te faz&lt;br /&gt;Lembrar o tempo que se foi mais uma vez&lt;br /&gt;Deixa pra trás o amanhã, aproveita o que já fez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blá, blá, blá, blá&lt;br /&gt;É o que eu ouço agora&lt;br /&gt;Não me traga mais das tuas&lt;br /&gt;Levanta e vai embora&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-8722710718736835466?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/8722710718736835466/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=8722710718736835466' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/8722710718736835466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/8722710718736835466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2009/03/poemanu.html' title='Poemanu'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-7281540847723813658</id><published>2009-01-10T12:25:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T12:27:47.511-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Fluxo Negro</title><content type='html'>Gotas de chuva atingem meu rosto calado.&lt;br /&gt;Pálido, olho para o que vem de cima,&lt;br /&gt;Esperando o dia acabar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um litro de coragem,&lt;br /&gt;Nem isso bastou&lt;br /&gt;Para aprofundar&lt;br /&gt;A imensidão negra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas os olhos de esfinge&lt;br /&gt;Desarmaram meus pulsos&lt;br /&gt;E o córrego de veias&lt;br /&gt;Estancou por um segundo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O fluxo admirável&lt;br /&gt;Da imensidão escura&lt;br /&gt;Me tomou por completo&lt;br /&gt;Num gesto simplista&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um jogo futurista&lt;br /&gt;De dedos entrelaçados&lt;br /&gt;Que me prenderam&lt;br /&gt;moveu o mundo&lt;br /&gt;Que viva angústiado&lt;br /&gt;E fez renascer&lt;br /&gt;Aquele segundo tão esperado&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-7281540847723813658?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/7281540847723813658/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=7281540847723813658' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/7281540847723813658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/7281540847723813658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2009/01/fluxo-negro.html' title='Fluxo Negro'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-8697660177529286653</id><published>2009-01-07T00:17:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T00:17:59.054-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Relógio</title><content type='html'>Os ponteiros não andam&lt;br /&gt;Todas as horas se traduzem em água&lt;br /&gt;Olhos ternos, boca suja de batom&lt;br /&gt;Fita longe o relógio sem ponteiros&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Longas noites de choro breve&lt;br /&gt;Leve nuânce da vida breve&lt;br /&gt;Os ponteiros não mudam de lugar&lt;br /&gt;Pois, tua pele plácida parece sempre a mesma&lt;br /&gt;Macia, doce, tenra ao paladar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os ponteiros não trocam de posição&lt;br /&gt;E toda a breviedade da dor&lt;br /&gt;Se traduz num simples expressar&lt;br /&gt;Do sofrimento, da minha dor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-8697660177529286653?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/8697660177529286653/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=8697660177529286653' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/8697660177529286653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/8697660177529286653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2009/01/relgio.html' title='Relógio'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-3008457460904091618</id><published>2008-12-30T13:56:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T13:56:34.866-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversas Inacabadas III</title><content type='html'>Deboche, desacato&lt;br /&gt;Mais um fio cinza&lt;br /&gt;Tingido pela tinta&lt;br /&gt;Das latas frias&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desmedido, desrespeito&lt;br /&gt;Não te mexes daí&lt;br /&gt;Nem com chuva&lt;br /&gt;Nem com sol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Sou mais um na imensidão&lt;br /&gt;Aqui parado, perpetuado&lt;br /&gt;A imagem ideal do cidadão&lt;br /&gt;Dura e friamente escravizada'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mais de mil flashes&lt;br /&gt;E tu ainda aí parado&lt;br /&gt;Nem inverte as pernas&lt;br /&gt;Para pelo menos mudar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Fui condenado&lt;br /&gt;Um destino cruel&lt;br /&gt;Assim feito de cinza&lt;br /&gt;Me mantenho fiel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sou imagem de outro eu&lt;br /&gt;Mais um busto pendurado&lt;br /&gt;Com os olhos fixos&lt;br /&gt;Nesse bebado mal-criado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas fale homem&lt;br /&gt;Até agora não disse nada...'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-3008457460904091618?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/3008457460904091618/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=3008457460904091618' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/3008457460904091618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/3008457460904091618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2008/12/conversas-inacabadas-iii.html' title='Conversas Inacabadas III'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-8371968123017209950</id><published>2008-12-29T01:52:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T01:53:43.429-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversas Inacabas II</title><content type='html'>'Porque achas que assim,&lt;br /&gt;Pequena como sou,&lt;br /&gt;Não sofro com o peso do mundo&lt;br /&gt;E, sim, um pedaço pequeno?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas como podes dizer que penso assim?&lt;br /&gt;Não sabes que também te considero bela?&lt;br /&gt;Daqui não vejo toda sua grandeza,&lt;br /&gt;Apenas aquilko que minhas lentes acatam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se, nas suas doces costas,&lt;br /&gt;Carregas mil pedaços gigantes&lt;br /&gt;Também podes levar&lt;br /&gt;O peso das milhões de pessoas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Me respeite, alto cidadão.&lt;br /&gt;Não zombe de mim.&lt;br /&gt;Sei o que pensas de fato&lt;br /&gt;Sei o que te leva a falar&lt;br /&gt;Tua eterna motivação é...'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-8371968123017209950?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/8371968123017209950/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=8371968123017209950' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/8371968123017209950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/8371968123017209950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2008/12/conversas-inacabas-ii.html' title='Conversas Inacabas II'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-8588670919832127924</id><published>2008-12-23T13:21:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T13:21:37.377-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversas Inacabadas I</title><content type='html'>Olha pros teus olhos&lt;br /&gt;Magestosa ave&lt;br /&gt;Vês que já perdeu o brilho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O mais lindo vôo&lt;br /&gt;Agora é bater de asas&lt;br /&gt;Sem rumo algum&lt;br /&gt;Quase apático&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onde foi teu sorriso?&lt;br /&gt;Como perdeu o fôlego?&lt;br /&gt;Porque esse canto desafinado?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Passei pela fome e miséria&lt;br /&gt;Vi o ódio e a discórdia&lt;br /&gt;Sobrevoei mares vermelhos&lt;br /&gt;Perdi a vontade de ser bonita&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preciso do afago&lt;br /&gt;Da mão amiga&lt;br /&gt;Que se arrependeu de torturar&lt;br /&gt;Essas penas enfraquecidas'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acredita na paz&lt;br /&gt;Se tu, que és símbolo,&lt;br /&gt;Desiste assim tão facil,&lt;br /&gt;Eu que sou um louco...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-8588670919832127924?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/8588670919832127924/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=8588670919832127924' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/8588670919832127924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/8588670919832127924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2008/12/conversas-inacabadas-i.html' title='Conversas Inacabadas I'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-7057574456743878787</id><published>2008-11-20T12:35:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T12:39:28.172-02:00</updated><title type='text'>Talvez Hoje</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;O paradoxo ambiguo das aguas&lt;br /&gt;O silêncio do mar da paixão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A boca, calada, sem marcas&lt;br /&gt;Despercebida no ato da ilusão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teu ciúme tem gosto de imaginação&lt;br /&gt;Tuas roupas caidas pelo chão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O vermelho escondendo as lágrimas&lt;br /&gt;As lástimas quentes do coração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O vento frio que pune as costas&lt;br /&gt;A areia destilando inspiração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rodrigo C. - 20/11  12:39&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-7057574456743878787?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/7057574456743878787/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=7057574456743878787' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/7057574456743878787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/7057574456743878787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2008/11/talvez-hoje.html' title='Talvez Hoje'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-1166692945765202595</id><published>2008-09-29T11:49:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T01:24:16.051-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Mais Um</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Olha nos olhos&lt;br /&gt;Com o compromisso&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Descompassado&lt;br /&gt;Descompromissado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quase calado&lt;br /&gt;Sem a doação&lt;br /&gt;Da dor do amparo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passa longe&lt;br /&gt;Desse longo festival&lt;br /&gt;Que festeja&lt;br /&gt;A vestimenta amarrotada&lt;br /&gt;Dessa Iris cor de mel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------&lt;br /&gt;Now playing: &lt;a href="http://www.foxytunes.com/artist/reverso+revolver/track/mais+um" title="'Reverso Revolver - Mais Um' - open on FoxyTunes Planet"&gt;Reverso Revolver - Mais Um&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153); font-style: italic;font-size:10;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-1166692945765202595?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/1166692945765202595/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=1166692945765202595' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/1166692945765202595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/1166692945765202595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2008/09/mais-um.html' title='Mais Um'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-1961504461652003853</id><published>2008-09-28T20:46:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T20:54:39.394-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Circo</title><content type='html'>Olha tudo isso&lt;br /&gt;Olha que bonito&lt;br /&gt;Olha para o chão&lt;br /&gt;Veja a areia, cante esse bordão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vem ver&lt;br /&gt;O circo chegou na cidade&lt;br /&gt;Trazendo alegria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sente saudade&lt;br /&gt;Com a vontade de iludir o tempo&lt;br /&gt;Que passa sem dar explicação&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olha este mundo&lt;br /&gt;Praque tudo isso?&lt;br /&gt;Olha pros teus pés&lt;br /&gt;Onde estão os dedos, vê comé que é&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olha pro teu rosto&lt;br /&gt;Pinta o desgosto&lt;br /&gt;Olha pra tuas mãos&lt;br /&gt;Sente o frio na espinha, solta esse rojão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------&lt;br /&gt;Now playing: &lt;a href="http://www.foxytunes.com/artist/chico+buarque/track/cotidiano" title="'Chico Buarque - Cotidiano' - open on FoxyTunes Planet"&gt;Chico Buarque - Cotidiano&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153); font-style: italic; font-size: 10px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-1961504461652003853?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/1961504461652003853/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=1961504461652003853' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/1961504461652003853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/1961504461652003853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2008/09/circo.html' title='Circo'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-1828480706310359472</id><published>2008-09-27T01:02:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T01:03:51.814-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Transição</title><content type='html'>Correndo por dentre as brumas da desilusão&lt;br /&gt;Me perco dentro de minhas lágrimas&lt;br /&gt;O terror nos teus olhos&lt;br /&gt;A tristeza nas feições&lt;br /&gt;Nos traços do teu semblante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O medo da morte? Porque?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fim...Transição&lt;br /&gt;Não choraria em teu velório&lt;br /&gt;Ficaria feliz por finalmente estar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;...Feliz...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------&lt;br /&gt;Now playing: &lt;a href="http://www.foxytunes.com/artist/seychelles/track/seychelles+-+a+face+do+tempo" title="'Seychelles - A Face Do Tempo' - open on FoxyTunes Planet"&gt;Seychelles - A Face Do Tempo&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153); font-style: italic; font-size: 10px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-1828480706310359472?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/1828480706310359472/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=1828480706310359472' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/1828480706310359472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/1828480706310359472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2008/09/transio.html' title='Transição'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-1001537810950443827</id><published>2008-09-23T19:19:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T19:19:49.427-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Soneto do Temor</title><content type='html'>O cigarro que acendes&lt;br /&gt;Com o fogo da paixão&lt;br /&gt;Me retoma a infância&lt;br /&gt;Perdida, confusa, latente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dessa boca, a fumaça que solta&lt;br /&gt;Me enche de tesão&lt;br /&gt;Das entranhas, a palavra que escapa&lt;br /&gt;Me dói fundo, da alma repressão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Semeando a discórida&lt;br /&gt;Entre nós, está o destino&lt;br /&gt;Dentre as poucas expressões&lt;br /&gt;A verdade se esconde, mórbida&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soltas pelo ar&lt;br /&gt;Se jogam estrelas cadentes&lt;br /&gt;Não querem mais a eternidade&lt;br /&gt;Preferem olhar da terra&lt;br /&gt;O sol, o sol nascente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dica: www.myspace.com/maltines&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-1001537810950443827?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/1001537810950443827/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=1001537810950443827' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/1001537810950443827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/1001537810950443827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2008/09/soneto-do-temor.html' title='Soneto do Temor'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-7613963119086720912</id><published>2008-09-21T23:40:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T23:42:34.517-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Vendaval</title><content type='html'>Vento que te venta&lt;br /&gt;É ventania de vontade de saber&lt;br /&gt;Da preguiça à verdade&lt;br /&gt;O marasmo, calmaria de ser&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas enquanto não quiseres mais me ver&lt;br /&gt;Sabe tudo o quanto tenho pra dizer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vem pela estrada, no caminho&lt;br /&gt;Vendo as vestes bonitas de seus&lt;br /&gt;Amores infintos e ternura&lt;br /&gt;Que só fazem te mais bonita&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pra mim que não sei onde estou&lt;br /&gt;E é pra mim voltarás amanhã&lt;br /&gt;E é assim que seguimos em frente&lt;br /&gt;Com essa loucura vã&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------&lt;br /&gt;Now playing: &lt;a href="http://www.foxytunes.com/artist/seychelles/track/seychelles+-+goza+a+qualquer+preco" title="'Seychelles - Goza A Qualquer Preco' - open on FoxyTunes Planet"&gt;Seychelles - Goza A Qualquer Preco&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153); font-style: italic; font-size: 10px;"&gt;via &lt;a style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);" href="http://www.foxytunes.com/signatunes/" title="FoxyTunes - Web of music at your fingertips"&gt;FoxyTunes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-7613963119086720912?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/7613963119086720912/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=7613963119086720912' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/7613963119086720912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/7613963119086720912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2008/09/vendaval.html' title='Vendaval'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-2507601606047898221</id><published>2008-09-20T14:14:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T14:14:43.452-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Matemática</title><content type='html'>De onde veio este teu lado?&lt;br /&gt;Não sabia que tinhas outros ângulos&lt;br /&gt;Nunca te analisei na geometria&lt;br /&gt;Teu corpo era aritimética&lt;br /&gt;Te subscrevi em fórmular&lt;br /&gt;Pensei ser infinita a contagem&lt;br /&gt;Porém, esqueci das negativas&lt;br /&gt;E no final de tudo assim como o zero&lt;br /&gt;O nada, eu compreendia&lt;br /&gt;A solidão de ser um&lt;br /&gt;Numa grande busca pelo último número&lt;br /&gt;Depois da vírgula e finalmente&lt;br /&gt;Poder achar dois...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouça: www.myspace.com/toysmakesound&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-2507601606047898221?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/2507601606047898221/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=2507601606047898221' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/2507601606047898221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/2507601606047898221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2008/09/matemtica.html' title='Matemática'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-3207600958619658502</id><published>2008-09-18T12:05:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T12:07:28.576-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Kronus</title><content type='html'>Envolto no sudário dos prazeres e da insanidade&lt;br /&gt;Me sinto as margens de um rio de perdição&lt;br /&gt;Abstenho-me de toda a lógica&lt;br /&gt;E inverto o meu processo natural&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morro, porque procriar para&lt;br /&gt;Fazer alguem despertar para tão cruel mundo&lt;br /&gt;Deveria ser crime&lt;br /&gt;E estar na constituição.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Envelheço, fadado ao pesar&lt;br /&gt;Ao descobrir que nem tudo o que foi&lt;br /&gt;É o que voltará, sempre a me guiar&lt;br /&gt;Por isso sou fraco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sou adulto, racional&lt;br /&gt;Olhando o mundo com os olhos de um trabalhador explorado&lt;br /&gt;Vendo em cada beco da rua uma maneira&lt;br /&gt;De conseguir ganhar o que não consegui a vida toda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora jovial, sinto a disposição&lt;br /&gt;Vontade de construir, ter&lt;br /&gt;Vontade de amar, viver&lt;br /&gt;Vontade...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adolescente, com problemas&lt;br /&gt;Tudo me irrita, principalmente a seriedade&lt;br /&gt;Tento ser alegre, mas no fundo sei&lt;br /&gt;Que não existem razões para ser assim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Criança, vendo finalmente como o mundo pode ser belo&lt;br /&gt;Depois de tanto sofrer consigo analizar&lt;br /&gt;Cada fração de segundo e dele (o tempo)&lt;br /&gt;Tirar a alegria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bêbe, completamente alheio&lt;br /&gt;Fora, sem raciocinio mas,&lt;br /&gt;Por mais que esteja fora&lt;br /&gt;Ainda sim é mais inteligente que todos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Volto ao utero de minha mãe&lt;br /&gt;Sinto o aconchego do descanço&lt;br /&gt;Posso não ser livre, mas sou feliz&lt;br /&gt;Sendo feto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me parto em dois e descubro&lt;br /&gt;Que mesmo estando sozinho&lt;br /&gt;Sempre estou acompanhado de quem sempre esteve ali por mim&lt;br /&gt;Eu mesmo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sumo, e ninguém sente falta&lt;br /&gt;Por que não sabem que um dia existi&lt;br /&gt;Não deixo saudades&lt;br /&gt;Não deixo desilusões...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouça: www.myspace.com/seychelesss&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-3207600958619658502?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/3207600958619658502/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=3207600958619658502' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/3207600958619658502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/3207600958619658502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2008/09/kronus.html' title='Kronus'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-3787306401370481347</id><published>2008-09-17T12:44:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T12:45:09.789-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sentidos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Distribua sobre a terra as peças que foram roubadas de meu corpo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os olhos jogue no deserto pra que passem a eternidade a contemplar o vario que existe nos homens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O nariz jogue nos esgotos para que possa para sempre sentir o cheiro da podridão da humanidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os ouvidos jogue nas matas para poder saber o dia do fim dos animais com o silêncio que reinara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As mãos lance ao fundo do mar para nunca estarem secas, não podendo esquecer das lágrimas que enxugou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;O coração jogue o mais longe que puder. Indeferente de onde caia ele não sentirá nada, pois a muito já não sente nada. Não é de hoje que pareou de bater. Já não acreditava mais na salvação.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouvindo: Raimundos - Eu quero ver o ôco&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&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/2497270724479182380-3787306401370481347?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/3787306401370481347/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=3787306401370481347' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/3787306401370481347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/3787306401370481347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2008/09/sentidos.html' title='Sentidos'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-4232216976805970444</id><published>2008-09-16T12:45:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T12:47:00.229-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Azul Profundo</title><content type='html'>Diz que mais um dia&lt;br /&gt;Poucos falam, bocas tortas&lt;br /&gt;Roga aos ventos melodia&lt;br /&gt;Verdes mares, alegria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vem sobrando tempo&lt;br /&gt;Que te conto, ventania&lt;br /&gt;Mora no silencio&lt;br /&gt;Aquele dia, poesia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olhar agudo escuro&lt;br /&gt;Pedra, asfalto, noite bruta&lt;br /&gt;Veio distrair as dores do mundo&lt;br /&gt;Mas no fundo, anuncia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem com alma de criança&lt;br /&gt;Ve em frente seu futuro&lt;br /&gt;Trás devolta a esperança&lt;br /&gt;De um mar azul profundo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dica: www.myspace.com/sabonetes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-4232216976805970444?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/4232216976805970444/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=4232216976805970444' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/4232216976805970444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/4232216976805970444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2008/09/azul-profundo.html' title='Azul Profundo'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-6366310229052255355</id><published>2008-09-15T23:53:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T23:55:38.651-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Belas Artes</title><content type='html'>Clareia o dia cheio de ilusão&lt;br /&gt;E agradável é o aroma&lt;br /&gt;No jardim de Belas Artes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pinta o sol em tinta óleo&lt;br /&gt;Quadros leva afim do mar&lt;br /&gt;Joga brisa nessa tela&lt;br /&gt;Emoldura vista bela&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Verdes campos, tinta guache&lt;br /&gt;Em rabiscos, surge matas&lt;br /&gt;A enchente, pinta fora&lt;br /&gt;Dos limites dessas linhas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nos prazeres, cores quente&lt;br /&gt;Nas tristezas, cores frias&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Com pincel, a noite chega&lt;br /&gt;A janela, o portão&lt;br /&gt;Finda noite, fim do tempo&lt;br /&gt;Vem buscar essa alegria&lt;br /&gt;Que repousa em tua mão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now playing: &lt;a href="http://www.foxytunes.com/artist/seychelles/track/seychelles+-+goza+a+qualquer+preco" title="'Seychelles - Goza A Qualquer Preco' - open on FoxyTunes Planet"&gt;Seychelles - Goza A Qualquer Preço&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153); font-style: italic; font-size: 10px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-6366310229052255355?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/6366310229052255355/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=6366310229052255355' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/6366310229052255355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/6366310229052255355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2008/09/belas-artes.html' title='Belas Artes'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-8702519029670852484</id><published>2008-09-14T23:11:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T23:11:54.021-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Até Onde?</title><content type='html'>Quem de tanta beleza traz nos braços&lt;br /&gt;O calor amigavel dos afagos&lt;br /&gt;Da insegura verdade do viver?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por que de tão longe?&lt;br /&gt;Por que assim tão breve?&lt;br /&gt;Como poderei desfrutar deste céu estrelado&lt;br /&gt;Sabendo que o abismo dos metros e metros nos separa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esperamos que tudo o que tiver que vir, venha&lt;br /&gt;De uma só vez, em uma só entoada&lt;br /&gt;Quando doces noticias o vento trouxer&lt;br /&gt;Em uma só palavra transmitira minha mais preciosa jóia...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;............................Saudade.............................&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-8702519029670852484?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/8702519029670852484/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=8702519029670852484' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/8702519029670852484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/8702519029670852484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2008/09/at-onde.html' title='Até Onde?'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-254456203920176259</id><published>2008-09-13T12:33:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T12:35:01.012-03:00</updated><title type='text'>A Praia e o Mar</title><content type='html'>Percorrer os dias que se entrelaçam por nossos dedos&lt;br /&gt;E na rua, as buzinas a expressar&lt;br /&gt;A amargura da distância de nossas peles plácidas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um cântico lirico costumavamos declamar&lt;br /&gt;No dia em que perdemos a dádiva de sucumbir&lt;br /&gt;A tentação de nosso singelo olhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Descobrimos o erro profundo de acreditar&lt;br /&gt;Que por nos acharmos a perfeição&lt;br /&gt;Junto aos deuses poderimos animar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas o ânimo, de nossa própria loucura vã, se torna&lt;br /&gt;Que tanto buscando o infeliz desfecho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Percebo que um erro profundo cometemos&lt;br /&gt;O de nos amar profunda e ternamente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que o sorriso no teu rosto não me faz lembrar&lt;br /&gt;Que feliz contigo o caminho do erro insisto em trilhar&lt;br /&gt;Pois no fundo queria apenas o sossêgo&lt;br /&gt;Da praia vazia, longe do teu mar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouvindo: Nada&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-254456203920176259?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/254456203920176259/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=254456203920176259' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/254456203920176259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/254456203920176259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2008/09/praia-e-o-mar.html' title='A Praia e o Mar'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-1877860405307887589</id><published>2008-09-12T13:16:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T13:18:00.657-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sabrina</title><content type='html'>ah que saudade me da&lt;br /&gt;ver renascer o dia sem você&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vem pros meus braços&lt;br /&gt;teus abraços fogem dos meus&lt;br /&gt;quero ver como andas assim&lt;br /&gt;sem saber dos labios meus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sei que ainda no fundo&lt;br /&gt;te despedes daquilo que foi&lt;br /&gt;na certeza de que o amanhã&lt;br /&gt;levara consigo o amor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vejo em teus olhos fulguras&lt;br /&gt;das belezas do sol que enobrece&lt;br /&gt;a crescente tristeza enferma&lt;br /&gt;que a cada dia em mim envelhece&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vem pros meus braços&lt;br /&gt;ainda pode ser diferente&lt;br /&gt;que esta dor ainda latente&lt;br /&gt;não me deixa chegar no depois&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;não te esqueço jamais&lt;br /&gt;nem quando o reverso do dia&lt;br /&gt;boas novas me trás&lt;br /&gt;mesmo assim meus olhos vidrados&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;deixa em chamas as pontes&lt;br /&gt;que me levam a teu olhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouvindo: Heartbeat&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-1877860405307887589?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/1877860405307887589/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=1877860405307887589' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/1877860405307887589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/1877860405307887589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2008/09/sabrina.html' title='Sabrina'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-2813528162934595993</id><published>2008-09-11T12:01:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T12:02:36.915-03:00</updated><title type='text'>A Dama do Tempo</title><content type='html'>Deixa-me ver tua face enrubescida&lt;br /&gt;Tomada por um sentimento de vergonha&lt;br /&gt;Sente prazer correndo em tuas veias&lt;br /&gt;Fecha-te em teu mundo e emerge como um anjo de luz e trevas&lt;br /&gt;Quem te quer ao lado não sabe do perigo&lt;br /&gt;Quem te busca não conhece teu ente divino&lt;br /&gt;Olham para ti como para a qualquer&lt;br /&gt;E não veêm que a nuvem de fumaça sobe por tuas pernas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuas asas te fecham e do meio dessas ilusões surge aquela chama encandescente de luz branca...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me cega os olhos porque daqui de onde te vejo sei que estás em constante luta&lt;br /&gt;Briga por aqueles que te despiram e te tomara a carne&lt;br /&gt;Por aqueles que admiram teu rosto e&lt;br /&gt;Por aqueles que nunca te viram ou te ouviram&lt;br /&gt;Sabe que do teu amago brota a pura energia e a força para acabar com todo o mal&lt;br /&gt;Mas o mal é uma constante e o bem também é, assim como essa luta interminável&lt;br /&gt;Consegue andar entre dois caminhos&lt;br /&gt;Consegue o equilíbrio eterno&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem dera eu fosse como tu, ó bela...&lt;br /&gt;E exaltasse a alegria que é perseguir o infinito...&lt;br /&gt;Pudesse para sempre andar entre os grandes poderes do mundo&lt;br /&gt;Andar entre o que desconcerta e o que agrupa&lt;br /&gt;Entre o que constrói e destrói&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Entre o bem e o mal....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouvindo: Omar Rodriguez Lopez - Please Heat this Eventually&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-2813528162934595993?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/2813528162934595993/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=2813528162934595993' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/2813528162934595993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/2813528162934595993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2008/09/dama-do-tempo.html' title='A Dama do Tempo'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-6664527892400446174</id><published>2008-09-10T11:24:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T11:24:56.548-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Adeus</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"quem te viu passar assim tão bela&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;não soube descrever o momento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;as horas pulsando no relógio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;o atraso do encontro de minh'alma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;vem ver o que restou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;das cinzas do fogo eterno&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;até parece aritmado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;mas no fim simplesmente nego&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;o ardor dos olhos poentes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;a escada que leva pra baixo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;o momento sublime do fim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;o inicio novamente inesperado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;aquelas que viram quando passou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;não souberam descrever o momento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;intensa agonia, dura e fria&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;daquele teu olhar sem sentimento&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;de frente encaro o desespero&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;do tão breve adeus, sereno&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;sigo apenas as batidas fracas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;das horas que pulsaram naquele momento"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;se prefere acreditar nas coisas vagas da vida, então tornemos vã nossa existência.&lt;br /&gt;se acreditar em quem se ama se resume a real beleza, então deixemos feia a realidade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;se nunca me quis como sempre falou, porque então justo comigo, que te cobicei tanto, te amei tanto, te quis tanto?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;prefiro mil vezes seguir minha vida na solidão do meu momento, botando palavras pra cá e palavras pra lá do que simplesmente encarar o fato de que foste embora sem nem mesmo dar a chance a minha loucura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;escrevo em lingua xula, lingua plena da loucura, sou feito de barro e não de agua pura, mas quando entoo um canto, é apenas pra quem merece, mas como palavras escritas não tem tom, então nunca se pode saber quando realmente se canta por amor ou por simples exposição.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;se escrevo é porque gosto, e se me odeia por escrever e levar ao palco minhas palavras, então é porque odeia quem eu sou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mas sempre, que as palavras são escritas, elas são feitas para alguém, talvez entregues pra quem serviu de inspiração, talvez pra quem possa julgar melhor, ou talvez pra milhões de pessoas, mas a cabeça permanece em quem serviu de inspiração.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;não existe como definir o que é sentir, e por isso não existe como demonstrar em signos, apenas em olhares, abraços, ternuras. PALAVRAS são PALAVRAS, misturadas podem formar qualquer coisa. Dadaista até pensei em ser um dia, mas dai já não falarei com o coração, mesmo que ele já não esteja em minhas mãos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se te prestares a ler tudo, vai entender esse final.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu nunca joguei, mas se pensa que sim, então pode creditar o dinheiro e encerrar as fichas, pois, o cassino fechou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É a última vez que posto, se quiser acredita senão não, simplesmente não tenho como te provar no papel. Eu nunca faria nada pra te perder, nada intencional, nunca tentaria te trair, porque tu bem sabe, seria capaz de mudar todos os conceitos pra estar ao teu lado. Pararia de fumar, de beber, de tocar, de escrever, de ter amigos, casaria, teria filhos, porque tu seria minha redenção.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas nunca, nunca mesmo joga comigo. Me olhe com olhar de desprezo e nojo, pelo menos fica mais fácil de aceitar a dor, que não é pequena. Eu te amei, e eu te amo de verdade e digam o que disserem de mim, veja o que vier de meus dedos, de meu lápis ou de minhas canetas, todas elas são fruto de apenas uma inspiração, um desejo, uma vontade sublime de poder estar ao lado de quem eu realmente amo...de ti...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E se for pra ser...Adeus...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20 de janeiro de 2008 - 6:32 da manhã&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouvindo: Tim Maia - Me Dê Motivos&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-6664527892400446174?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/6664527892400446174/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=6664527892400446174' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/6664527892400446174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/6664527892400446174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2008/09/adeus.html' title='Adeus'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-1034777350975016428</id><published>2008-09-09T20:22:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T20:23:40.134-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Envelope</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sábias palavras percorrem&lt;br /&gt;Por meu ouvidos plácidos&lt;br /&gt;Atentos, quase em chamas&lt;br /&gt;Ouço teu suspirar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem de tão longe, eu&lt;br /&gt;Aqui sentado, poderia esperar?&lt;br /&gt;A simbiose de tantos&lt;br /&gt;Uma mistura de muitos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um leve sorriso&lt;br /&gt;O carisma volta ao lar&lt;br /&gt;E com os olhos fechados&lt;br /&gt;Toca a face com palavras&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forte e tão frágil&lt;br /&gt;Um envelope fechado&lt;br /&gt;Quase nunca tocado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Podes abrir, tens que mostrar&lt;br /&gt;A formosura escrita&lt;br /&gt;Que guardas em ti&lt;br /&gt;Carta sem remetente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now playing: &lt;a href="http://www.foxytunes.com/artist/sigur+r%c3%b3s/track/untitled+6" title="'Sigur Rós - Untitled 6' - open on FoxyTunes Planet"&gt;Sigur Rós - Untitled 6&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-1034777350975016428?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/1034777350975016428/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=1034777350975016428' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/1034777350975016428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/1034777350975016428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2008/09/envelope.html' title='Envelope'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-7974218056507389969</id><published>2008-09-08T15:57:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T16:00:07.150-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Alegria</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Vejo em verdade o mais belo&lt;br /&gt;De todos os negros olhos&lt;br /&gt;Desbotando as verdades das águas&lt;br /&gt;Verdes que me perseguiam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quando de tantas alegrias&lt;br /&gt;Poderia ver desmascarar minha tristeza&lt;br /&gt;E num impeto de sorriso&lt;br /&gt;Fazer quebrar todos meus infinitos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brilha as mil estrelas&lt;br /&gt;Que sobre nossas cabeças&lt;br /&gt;Me passam sem perceber&lt;br /&gt;Porque o brilho maior&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;[é de todo feito teu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fazendo aguar o sangue&lt;br /&gt;Duro que corria em mim&lt;br /&gt;E pulsar aquela fria&lt;br /&gt;Alegria que meu rosto transparecia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tens todos méritos da vontade&lt;br /&gt;Da beleza e da caricia&lt;br /&gt;Os ingênuos olhos&lt;br /&gt;Que me fizeram temer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;         [o sorriso que sem aviso chegou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não deixa esta alegria perecer&lt;br /&gt;Não deixa este momento passar&lt;br /&gt;Sê de todas a mais forte&lt;br /&gt;Aquela que me aprisionou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;         [nos meus devaneio, e no meu querer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depois da tristeza de uma despedida vem a alegria de um novo começo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="metadata"&gt; &lt;div class="metadata-music"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current Music:&lt;/span&gt; Mars Volta - Asilos Magdalena&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/2497270724479182380-7974218056507389969?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/7974218056507389969/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=7974218056507389969' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/7974218056507389969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/7974218056507389969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2008/09/alegria.html' title='Alegria'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497270724479182380.post-8083589541442594262</id><published>2008-09-08T03:13:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T03:16:11.087-03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='desejo'/><title type='text'>Desejo</title><content type='html'>"&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Desejo, pedaço de min'alma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deixa em paz este perturbado&lt;br /&gt;Solitário de mil vontades&lt;br /&gt;Em busca do sempre esperado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Desejo, pecador infiel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nas lamúrias me perdi&lt;br /&gt;Por mil lágrimas que derramei&lt;br /&gt;Teu olhar que me sorri&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Desejo, distúrbio original&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As loucuras mil que me acomodam&lt;br /&gt;O sentimento de inércia&lt;br /&gt;Que em teu braços se acordam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Desejo, fim último&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me deixa encontrar um canto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Para ter a paz merecida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Longe do teu eterno pranto&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Rodrigo C.®&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------&lt;br /&gt;Now playing: &lt;a href="http://www.foxytunes.com/artist/sigur+r%c3%b3s/track/untitled+5" title="'Sigur Rós - Untitled 5' - open on FoxyTunes Planet"&gt;Sigur Rós - Untitled 5&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153); font-style: italic; font-size: 10px;"&gt;via &lt;a style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);" href="http://www.foxytunes.com/signatunes/" title="FoxyTunes - Web of music at your fingertips"&gt;FoxyTunes&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2497270724479182380-8083589541442594262?l=rodrigopacote.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/feeds/8083589541442594262/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2497270724479182380&amp;postID=8083589541442594262' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/8083589541442594262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2497270724479182380/posts/default/8083589541442594262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rodrigopacote.blogspot.com/2008/09/desejo.html' title='Desejo'/><author><name>Rodrigo C.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14383540135421123836</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_R9T0sAHNuPQ/Sjm1ngwX8II/AAAAAAAAAEY/zC4riWrXflI/S220/Grito+(35).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
