<?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-20498034</id><updated>2011-11-25T07:35:39.889-08:00</updated><title type='text'>antipoético</title><subtitle type='html'>um pouco patético, nem tanto poético. sobre dores, amores, anseios e confusões.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>158</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-342688611356667164</id><published>2011-10-30T14:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-30T14:20:26.474-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;Sou um corpo com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="color: #999999; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;duas almas e dois corações.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-342688611356667164?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/342688611356667164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=342688611356667164' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/342688611356667164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/342688611356667164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2011/10/sou-um-corpo-com-duas-almas-e-dois_30.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-8485634265847456016</id><published>2011-10-30T12:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-30T12:44:00.793-07:00</updated><title type='text'>chega de saudade</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: #999999;"&gt;Chega de saudade&lt;br /&gt;a realidade,&amp;nbsp;é que sem &lt;em&gt;ele&lt;/em&gt; não há paz,&lt;br /&gt;não há beleza&lt;br /&gt;É só tristeza e a melancolia&lt;br /&gt;Que não sai de mim, não sai de mim, não sai.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #999999;"&gt;Tom Jobim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-8485634265847456016?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/8485634265847456016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=8485634265847456016' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/8485634265847456016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/8485634265847456016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2011/10/sou-um-corpo-com-duas-almas-e-dois.html' title='chega de saudade'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-5014907359878079816</id><published>2011-05-18T14:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T14:45:09.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:WordDocument&gt;   &lt;w:View&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:Zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:HyphenationZone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:PunctuationKerning/&gt;   &lt;w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/&gt;   &lt;w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:Compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:BreakWrappedTables/&gt;    &lt;w:SnapToGridInCell/&gt;    &lt;w:WrapTextWithPunct/&gt;    &lt;w:UseAsianBreakRules/&gt;    &lt;w:DontGrowAutofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:BrowserLevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt; /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;}&lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #999999;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Tenho contado os dias, logo vou contar as horas. E quando acabar as horas e chegar o dia? Contarei as ondas, as estrelas, os coqueiros, os sorrisos, as flores, os novos amigos.&lt;span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;Contarei histórias.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&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/20498034-5014907359878079816?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/5014907359878079816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=5014907359878079816' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/5014907359878079816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/5014907359878079816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2011/05/normal-0-21-false-false-false.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-1191267270022513123</id><published>2010-12-12T02:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-12T02:57:56.897-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:WordDocument&gt;   &lt;w:View&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:Zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:HyphenationZone&gt;21&lt;/w:HyphenationZone&gt;   &lt;w:PunctuationKerning/&gt;   &lt;w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/&gt;   &lt;w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:Compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:BreakWrappedTables/&gt;    &lt;w:SnapToGridInCell/&gt;    &lt;w:WrapTextWithPunct/&gt;    &lt;w:UseAsianBreakRules/&gt;    &lt;w:DontGrowAutofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:BrowserLevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt; /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Tabela normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;}&lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Tudo que me obriga, me prende, me força, também me sufoca, incomoda e agonia. Eu tento, mas não sei ficar. Idealizei criar raízes, fincar os pés, mas confesso que gosto mesmo é de voar.&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/20498034-1191267270022513123?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/1191267270022513123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=1191267270022513123' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1191267270022513123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1191267270022513123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2010/12/normal-0-21-false-false-false.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-1699611590171887520</id><published>2010-12-08T01:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-08T01:31:31.140-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: #999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;a insônia é um demônio.&lt;/b&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/20498034-1699611590171887520?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/1699611590171887520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=1699611590171887520' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1699611590171887520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1699611590171887520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2010/12/insonia-e-um-demonio.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-8516752749399989803</id><published>2010-12-07T16:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-09T13:53:35.872-08:00</updated><title type='text'>amiga do tempo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O tempo voa e eu já nem me incomodo tanto com meus cabelos brancos. Não tenho usado maquiagem. Não tenho ido ao salão de beleza. Não perdi a vaidade, mas, é diferente. Ganhei outras coisas. Umas tais responsabilidades e aprendizados imensuráveis. Não corro, nem tenho pressa. Cada vez olho mais para dentro, de mim e das pessoas. Tenho mais consciência do meu corpo, funcionamento do meu organismo e da minha respiração. Envelhecer não é pesado, é leve. Pareço flutuar. Minha pele está com uma textura diferente e mais colorida, meus músculos mais flexíveis. O tempo voa e eu percebo seus efeitos no meu corpo, na minha alma e mais ainda no meu coração, que transborda de amor, mais e mais.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-8516752749399989803?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/8516752749399989803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=8516752749399989803' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/8516752749399989803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/8516752749399989803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2010/12/o-tempo-voa-e-eu-ja-nem-me-incomodo.html' title='amiga do tempo'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-2556158069689699678</id><published>2010-10-14T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-16T15:46:33.757-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #999999;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Andando pelas ruas... Catando lixo, Cantando mantras. Sorrindo para desconhecidos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;Não é todo lixo, quando me incomoda e dá, eu cato, seguro e jogo na próxima lixeira. E Recife tem tão poucas lixeiras nas ruas e tanta gente mal educada que joga lixo no chão.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-2556158069689699678?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/2556158069689699678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=2556158069689699678' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/2556158069689699678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/2556158069689699678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2010/10/normal-0-21-false-false-false.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-3133365544807541410</id><published>2010-09-28T15:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T10:58:22.304-07:00</updated><title type='text'>realizando sonhos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Não faz muitos dias li uma advertência fascinante: Cuidado com o que você pede, você pode conseguir. E eu complemento: Cuidado com que você imagina, você pode realizar. Tão forte quanto a prece, nosso pensamento tem uma força descomunal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tenho vontade de conhecer vários lugares no mundo, mas um, em especial, sempre me encantou em damasia e&amp;nbsp; ocupou por muitos anos o topo da minha lista. Mas, por ser um destino distante e por isso não ser barato, esse lugar foi ficando&amp;nbsp;mais na minha imaginação do que nos meus planos. Fiz algumas contas sim, mas imaginei muito mais do que planejei. Perdi as contas de quantas vezes viajei nos meus pensamentos e sonhei está lá. &lt;br /&gt;Desejei tão profundamente e com todo meu coração que acabo de realizar o comecinho desse sonho: Passagens compradas, sorriso sem tamanho no rosto e um friozinho na barriga.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&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/20498034-3133365544807541410?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/3133365544807541410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=3133365544807541410' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3133365544807541410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3133365544807541410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2010/09/realizando-sonhos.html' title='realizando sonhos'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-6507467273882960505</id><published>2010-09-10T16:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T05:10:49.437-07:00</updated><title type='text'>jogando contra</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666;"&gt;Semana passada Brisa matou um timbu. Brisa é minha cadela. Ela é da raça &lt;em&gt;rhodesian ridgeback, &lt;/em&gt;natural da África e conhecida lá por caçar leão. Os caçadores usavam matilhas desses cães para acuar e cansar os leões na antiga região da Rodésia, hoje Zimbabwe. Aqui o leão é símbolo do Sport Clube do Recife, principal adversário do time que eu torço desde criança: o Clube Náutico Capibaribe que tem como mascote o timbu. Vejam só que ironia, &lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;na falta de leão, ela caça timbu. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #666666;"&gt;Atualmente&amp;nbsp;o Náutico ocupa&amp;nbsp;o décimo lugar&amp;nbsp;na tabela do Brasileiro da série B,&amp;nbsp;vem caindo de produção e de posição a cada rodada. Já até perdi as contas de quantos jogos&amp;nbsp;meu time não ganha. Enquanto o Leão,&amp;nbsp;está em sexto e várias rodadas sem perder. É... o timbu está mesmo se dando mal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&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/20498034-6507467273882960505?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/6507467273882960505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=6507467273882960505' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6507467273882960505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6507467273882960505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2010/09/jogando-contra.html' title='jogando contra'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-3869789696436754035</id><published>2010-09-06T06:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-10T16:36:12.025-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ai ai</title><content type='html'>Só de imaginar o destino suspiro. Só em falar sinto meu estômago gelar. Fecho os olhos e consigo ver. Creio que daqui para lá não terei mais dedos, porque as unhas já foram todas roídas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-3869789696436754035?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/3869789696436754035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=3869789696436754035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3869789696436754035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3869789696436754035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2010/09/so-de-imaginar-o-destino-suspiro.html' title='ai ai'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-6640696403825126691</id><published>2010-09-04T14:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-10T16:36:59.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: #444444; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cortejo sempre a sanidade, mas na verdade há muito mais loucura em mim.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-6640696403825126691?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/6640696403825126691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=6640696403825126691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6640696403825126691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6640696403825126691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2010/09/cortejo-sempre-sanidade-mas-na-verdade.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-3169912597287298855</id><published>2010-08-03T15:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-05T10:33:20.672-07:00</updated><title type='text'>questão diplomática</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Nunca pensei que um ex-namorado meu um dia dormiria na minha casa. Não assim nessas circunstâncias: Eu casada e ele dormindo ali no quarto ao lado com sua namorada. Nunca pensei. Não por achar essa idéia absurda, mas por ser no mínimo uma situação inesperada e um tanto quanto bisonha para a maioria das pessoas, mas não para mim, não me sinto desconfortável na presença dele, nem dos meus outros exs, acredito eu. Somos todos, ou melhor, quase todos amigos. Inclusive nós três: eu, meu marido e meu ex. Eles dois desde a adolescência. Eu cheguei depois, mas antes de está casada era a melhor amiga do meu amado. Nossa amizade começou quando eu namorava um outro ex, isso a uns dez anos atrás, nessa época, eles estudavam juntos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tenho a impressão que meus exs foram sempre meus amigos, apenas bons amigos e só isso, nada mais. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Me parece que cada um deles, nenhum mais que outro, serviu de ponte para que eu chegasse ao amor da minha vida. Cada um deu sua contribuição. Todos, nenhum mais importante que o outro, passou pela minha história para que eu tivesse plena certeza de quem será sempre o dono do meu coração. E como estou feliz por isso ter acontecido, então, como não posso chamá-los de amigos?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;E viva a diplomacia, a maturidade e a amizade!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-3169912597287298855?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/3169912597287298855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=3169912597287298855' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3169912597287298855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3169912597287298855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2010/08/eu-nunca-pensei-que-um-ex-namorado-meu.html' title='questão diplomática'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-3688245283816248832</id><published>2010-07-30T04:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T06:37:54.998-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: #66cccc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No budismo uma flor de lótus azul significa a vitória do espírito sobre os sentidos.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #66cccc;"&gt;[Tatuei uma no ombro]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-3688245283816248832?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/3688245283816248832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=3688245283816248832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3688245283816248832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3688245283816248832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2010/07/no-budismo-uma-flor-de-lotus-azul.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-6957183894516576525</id><published>2010-07-08T14:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T16:03:36.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>solitude</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Sinto-me preencher todo o universo com minha presença. &lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Sinto-me plena de vida&lt;/span&gt;. Cheia. Inteira. Sinto-me à vontade comigo mesma e mesmo quando estou sozinha, mas na companhia dos meus vícios e virtudes, sinto-me feliz. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-6957183894516576525?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/6957183894516576525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=6957183894516576525' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6957183894516576525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6957183894516576525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2010/07/solitude.html' title='solitude'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-675858698903516021</id><published>2010-06-19T09:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-19T09:46:24.354-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#999999;"&gt;Nasceram cogumelos na minha cozinha!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-675858698903516021?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/675858698903516021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=675858698903516021' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/675858698903516021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/675858698903516021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2010/06/nasceram-cogumelos-na-minha-cozinha.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-8446632650832797626</id><published>2010-06-16T20:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-17T03:06:25.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Chá, chuva, fumaça e devaneios na madrugada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Pareço mais aquela de anos atrás.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Ainda há em mim um pouco dela.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Ainda há um pouco dela em todo lugar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-8446632650832797626?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/8446632650832797626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=8446632650832797626' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/8446632650832797626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/8446632650832797626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2010/06/cha-chuva-fumaca-e-devaneios-na.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-1993811310917141180</id><published>2010-06-01T07:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-19T09:48:12.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sentidos</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#999999;"&gt;Degustar paisagens, ouvir aromas, tocar sabores, sentir o cheiro das cores, vê o som. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Ir além...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-1993811310917141180?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/1993811310917141180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=1993811310917141180' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1993811310917141180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1993811310917141180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2010/06/sentidos.html' title='sentidos'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-6066048092411647185</id><published>2010-05-18T17:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T06:39:40.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"&lt;strong&gt;As mariposas são as guardiães da eternidade. Elas trazem nas asas, o pó do conhecimento [...] As mariposas têm sido amigas íntimas dos feiticeiros desde tempos imemoráveis&lt;/strong&gt;".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dom Juan de Matus. Porta para o infinito.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Ler isso foi de uma importância vital para mim. Foi emocionante, esclarecedor e especial. Eu sempre soube que elas me traziam algo.]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-6066048092411647185?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/6066048092411647185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=6066048092411647185' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6066048092411647185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6066048092411647185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2010/05/as-mariposas-sao-as-guardiaes-da.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-7025072885165631212</id><published>2010-05-13T05:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-05T10:35:09.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'>dias em branco</title><content type='html'>Você me diz que eu preciso de motivos para chorar. E eu te digo, meu bem, que desconheço tais. Mas, alguma coisa pesa aqui dentro. Me entala, engasga, não passa. Paralisa os sentidos e minhas vontades. Dói no peito e escorre pelos olhos.&lt;br /&gt;Minhas lágrimas perderam o sal, mas ainda despertam o amargo na boca. Não é só emocional, também é físico, agora. Incomóda.&lt;br /&gt;E você me diz o que eu já sei de cór. Não existem fórmulas. Você é só mais um que não sabe lidar com isso, e eu vou ser sempre a mesma: deprimida, oprimida e perdida nas horas dos dias em branco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16/04/2010&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-7025072885165631212?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/7025072885165631212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=7025072885165631212' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/7025072885165631212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/7025072885165631212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2010/05/dias-em-branco.html' title='dias em branco'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-1396053587359514526</id><published>2010-03-27T04:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-12T03:10:20.175-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;-É estranho saber que estou indo e não tenho nada para levar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cccccc;"&gt;(Fortaleza- CE)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-1396053587359514526?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/1396053587359514526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=1396053587359514526' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1396053587359514526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1396053587359514526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2010/03/e-estranho-saber-que-estou-indo-e-nao.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-3020946218170099715</id><published>2010-01-13T04:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T16:09:50.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a morte</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Não sei se ela virá branda ou devastadora. Não sei como será quando ela virá me levar. Não sei de sua imagem ou se tem cor, mas sinto quando ela se aproxima.&lt;br /&gt;Eu penso nela. Sem medo.&lt;br /&gt;Sei que ela está aqui, ali, por toda parte. Atenta.&lt;br /&gt;Não nos ameaça, nem nos cerca, não nos ronda, nem nos julga, mas está sempre presente.&lt;br /&gt;Acontece.&lt;br /&gt;E não importa como. É natural.&lt;br /&gt;Vai acontecer.&lt;br /&gt;E "em um segundo e tudo se acaba". Mas, o que acaba?&lt;br /&gt;O corpo é que morre.&lt;br /&gt;O invólucro, a pele, a carne, a forma. Apodrece.&lt;br /&gt;A alma é eterna. Se lança no espaço e faz uma longa viagem em outros planos, por outros mundos e outras vidas.&lt;br /&gt;Tudo faz parte do aprendizado que continua.&lt;br /&gt;O que fica e se transforma é maior e não se acaba nunca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Marina (Fulco), cure-se da dor e faça uma bela viagem!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-3020946218170099715?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/3020946218170099715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=3020946218170099715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3020946218170099715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3020946218170099715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2010/01/nao-sei-se-ela-vira-branda-ou.html' title='a morte'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-5989479418697628804</id><published>2009-11-20T08:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-06-16T20:31:11.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'>despedida</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span &gt;Já a alguns dias te vejo olhar pela janela. Um olhar fixo e vago. A paisagem nem é bela, mas você parece contemplar um céu laranja, lilás e cor de rosa mesmo quando ele não está lá. É... A gente só se despede do que gosta. O que não gostamos, deixamos para trás sem nem perceber que lá ficou. Mas, muitas vezes não conseguimos nos despedir. Porque não nos sentimos a vontade com o nó que a despedida nos dá na garganta, ou porque não gostamos do gosto travoso que a ela tem. Aí, paramos e contemplamos, apenas. Essa é uma boa maneira de dizermos adeus.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&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/20498034-5989479418697628804?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/5989479418697628804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=5989479418697628804' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/5989479418697628804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/5989479418697628804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2009/11/ja-alguns-dias-te-vejo-olhar-pela.html' title='despedida'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-6280553752160072969</id><published>2009-11-16T05:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-06-16T20:32:15.815-07:00</updated><title type='text'>re-nascendo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span &gt;Desculpe te deixar sem ar, mas eu terei que partir. Partirei em breve, para um lugar sem nome, que fica entre o aqui e agora, numa pausa profunda de todo silêncio do mundo. Tenho que ir lá, por uma questão vital, já que abandonei a floresta que plantei e reguei com minhas lágrimas, durante toda a vida.&lt;br /&gt;Preciso ir lá morrer, porque por muitas vezes necessito da morte. Enterrar os vícios e sepultar alguns sentimentos que fazem sombra no meu ser. Não quero mais a escuridão da minha floresta. Mesmo para morrer, quero está num lugar iluminado, não quero fechar os olhos. Quero ver.&lt;br /&gt;Então, logo estarei lá, calando o barulho interno, me integrando ao silêncio etério do mundo.&lt;br /&gt;Não sentirei saudade. A viagem é intensa, mas não é contada em tempo.&lt;br /&gt;Morrerei sim. Porque morrer é fundamental para quem precisa renascer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Sobre minha floresta:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2006_05_01_archive.html"&gt;http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2006_05_01_archive.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html"&gt;http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007_07_01_archive.html"&gt;http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007_07_01_archive.html&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007_07_01_archive.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-6280553752160072969?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/6280553752160072969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=6280553752160072969' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6280553752160072969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6280553752160072969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2009/11/desculpe-te-deixar-sem-ar-mas-eu-terei.html' title='re-nascendo'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-500038613226762673</id><published>2009-05-23T19:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T20:30:37.302-07:00</updated><title type='text'>quem vai arrombar a porta?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Olhando para dentro de si, procurava com certo desespero, um pouco de razão. Não era possível que não tivesse nem um pingo dela por ali, enquanto tudo estava imerso na sua oponente: a emoção.&lt;br /&gt;Aqui elas nunca agiram em equilíbrio, nunca tiveram uma sintonia. A razão nasceu surda e muda, enquanto a emoção cresceu fazendo barulho, gritando, ecoando de dentro para fora e em todos os cantos.&lt;br /&gt;Escavando as paredes da alma, desenrolando as cordas coração, bagunçado os sentimentos, desordenando as lembranças, então, percebeu que não podia mais encontrá-la, pois, em algum momento de sua vida, seguramente tomada pela barulhenta emoção, havia trancafiado toda e qualquer razão no porão do seu ser, perdendo a chave para sempre.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-500038613226762673?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/500038613226762673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=500038613226762673' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/500038613226762673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/500038613226762673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2009/05/quem-vai-arrombara-porta.html' title='quem vai arrombar a porta?'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-7496115332217567494</id><published>2009-05-23T18:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T18:37:31.647-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sonhos</title><content type='html'>Antes sofria com a ausência deles. Agora sofro por tê-los com urgência e em demasia.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-7496115332217567494?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/7496115332217567494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=7496115332217567494' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/7496115332217567494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/7496115332217567494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2009/05/sonhos.html' title='sonhos'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-2692815845291274354</id><published>2009-05-12T13:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T08:40:15.979-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Eu volto para teus braços para o azul colorir o céu novamente.&lt;br /&gt;Porque toda vez que nos deixamos, o céu cinza chora horas sem parar.&lt;br /&gt;E eu te amo como quem esquece tudo diante de um beijo: as inúmeras horas desbeijadas, os terríveis desabraços e os dolorosos desencaixes que meu corpo sofre longe do seu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-2692815845291274354?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/2692815845291274354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=2692815845291274354' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/2692815845291274354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/2692815845291274354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2009/05/eu-volto-para-teus-bracos-para-o-azul.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-6031023007985371609</id><published>2009-03-03T05:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T05:34:50.911-08:00</updated><title type='text'>evolução da mente</title><content type='html'>O homem deve primeiro libertar sua consciência das amarras da ordem social. Uma vez que a consciência estiver livre, um intento irá redirecioná-la para um novo caminho evolucionário.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dom Juan, A arte do sonhar, Castañeda.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-6031023007985371609?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/6031023007985371609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=6031023007985371609' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6031023007985371609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6031023007985371609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2009/03/evolucao-da-mente.html' title='evolução da mente'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-475904146906404448</id><published>2009-02-05T18:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T19:01:16.264-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"O poder e a sensação de ser especial são forças corruptoras imbatíveis"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dom Juan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(a arte do sonhar, castañeda)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-475904146906404448?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/475904146906404448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=475904146906404448' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/475904146906404448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/475904146906404448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2009/02/o-poder-e-sensacao-de-ser-especial-sao.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-5554907256946456762</id><published>2009-01-08T06:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T06:38:25.501-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Toda a nossa busca está iluminada pela luz do passado. Ela está sempre do nosso lado: do lado de dentro, olhando para fora"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uma vida iluminada.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-5554907256946456762?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/5554907256946456762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=5554907256946456762' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/5554907256946456762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/5554907256946456762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2009/01/toda-nossa-busca-est-iluminada-pela-luz.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-6086393880442575274</id><published>2009-01-08T06:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-06-13T06:41:24.720-07:00</updated><title type='text'>algodão doce azul</title><content type='html'>ele: -o que você vai fazer hoje, meu amor?&lt;br /&gt;ela: -hoje vou esperar o amanhã chegar e ver você chegar junto com ele.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-6086393880442575274?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/6086393880442575274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=6086393880442575274' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6086393880442575274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6086393880442575274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2009/01/ele-o-que-voc-vai-fazer-hoje-meu-amor.html' title='algodão doce azul'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-1241997751013113667</id><published>2008-10-31T08:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T06:44:54.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sangue e água benta</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;a cidade tem  mil e uma coisas boas de se ver, de se ter, de sentir, de comprar, de vender. porque a cidade tem vida mais nunca ousou te dizer: -você não vive na cidade ela que vive em você!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;afirmação da vida, shawlin.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-1241997751013113667?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/1241997751013113667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=1241997751013113667' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1241997751013113667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1241997751013113667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/10/sangue-e-gua-benta.html' title='sangue e água benta'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-791828232475353614</id><published>2008-10-30T18:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T10:02:22.695-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O clima por aqui não tem mais aquela leveza. O ar está impuro e o tempo nublado.&lt;br /&gt;As pessoas fingem o que são e o que sentem, o tempo todo. Esquecem de viver as suas vidas e vivem a vida dos outros. Na verdade, não vivem, elas jogam. Jogos de trapaça, cheios de rancor e mentiras. Perdem tempo e alimentam mágoas. Cultivam mau sentimentos em si, nos outros e simplesmente não se importam.&lt;br /&gt;Há uma guerra de egos lá fora. Onde ninguém mais quer ser &lt;em&gt;humano&lt;/em&gt;. Está fora de moda ser bonzinho. As ruas estão cheias de semi-deuses mascarados exalando o cheiro podre da arrogância.&lt;br /&gt;E eu ainda me abalo e me entristeço com os fatos, mas continuo serena, apesar da náusea que me persegue.&lt;br /&gt;Prefiro ficar aqui dentro nadando em sonhos coloridos, poetizando meu interior. E quero, enfim, acordar em um novo mundo onde o sol brilhe forte, as pessoas apenas vivam e o ar seja mais fácil de respirar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-791828232475353614?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/791828232475353614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=791828232475353614' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/791828232475353614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/791828232475353614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/10/o-clima-por-aqui-no-tem-mais-aquela.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-275593807440249427</id><published>2008-10-30T05:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T19:08:55.709-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>eu continuo acreditando, que no final das contas, o bem vence o mal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-275593807440249427?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/275593807440249427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=275593807440249427' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/275593807440249427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/275593807440249427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/10/eu-continuo-acreditando-que-no-final.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-1285173405971971551</id><published>2008-10-08T05:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T06:05:02.621-07:00</updated><title type='text'>infinito</title><content type='html'>ele: -E você acha que eu te amo de agora?&lt;br /&gt;ela: -Não, eu sei que já faz tempo.&lt;br /&gt;ele: -Muito tempo.&lt;br /&gt;ela sorri.&lt;br /&gt;ele: -Eu te amo desde de outras vidas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;amor-mágico que vem de outras vidas, outros tempos e vai além dos mundos, além de tudo até o infinito.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-1285173405971971551?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/1285173405971971551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=1285173405971971551' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1285173405971971551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1285173405971971551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/10/infinito.html' title='infinito'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-5820731838437970931</id><published>2008-10-02T15:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T06:11:09.178-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mania de sorrir</title><content type='html'>Você sorrir para pessoas que não conhece na rua?&lt;br /&gt;Eu tenho essa mania e não faço distinção. Sorrio para velhos, adultos, crianças, cachorros, homens e mulheres. De todos os tipos, todas as cores, formas e idade.&lt;br /&gt;Uns me olham com timidez e desconfiança, nem todos sorriem.&lt;br /&gt;Prefiro sorri para as crianças, elas sempre me retribuem com um sorriso puroe sincero e bem maior que o meu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-5820731838437970931?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/5820731838437970931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=5820731838437970931' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/5820731838437970931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/5820731838437970931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/10/voc-sorrir-para-as-pessoas-na-rua.html' title='mania de sorrir'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-345451899014150555</id><published>2008-09-25T04:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T18:04:00.078-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>- Minha situação atual supera qualquer coisa do passado.&lt;br /&gt;- Mas nunca se sabe o que o passado vai vir a ser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[não estou lá]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-345451899014150555?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/345451899014150555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=345451899014150555' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/345451899014150555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/345451899014150555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/09/minha-situao-atual-supera-qualquer.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-3290168221597028281</id><published>2008-08-27T04:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T04:57:05.981-07:00</updated><title type='text'>que...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Que de vez em quando eu tenha essa vontade doida de partir, sem maiores explicações, sem saber para onde, para que, assim, antes de ir, sinta mais que nunca a sua falta, descobrindo que, partir, talvez seja uma grande bobagem.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Que eu possa encostar-me, à noite, e sentir sua presença, mesmo não estando você aqui. E que eu continue tendo algumas noites solitárias para não esquecer a quem pertence um lado da minha cama.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;E que alguns telefonemas que não serão atendidos porque você já dorme me dêem, pelo menos, a chance de te ter bem perto em sonho.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Embora seja claro para mim o meu desejo, que seja ele claro também para você.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Que eu tenha sabedoria de perceber a hora certa de conter minha emoção para não mais te fazer perder a paciência, mas, que toda vez que isso aconteça o amor possa encontrá-la para você.&lt;br /&gt;Que eu entenda suas renúncias e que você entenda as minhas. Mas, que eu saiba inclusive renunciar ao entendimento quando ele não for possível, pois na maior parte das vezes não é. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-3290168221597028281?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/3290168221597028281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=3290168221597028281' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3290168221597028281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3290168221597028281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/08/que_27.html' title='que...'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-6780444225339828417</id><published>2008-08-26T08:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T08:49:50.167-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>O problema é que eu deixo me contaminar: eu engulo, guardo, entalo, tusso, suporto e engasgo, antes de cuspir, de vomitar e me livrar de todo o mal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-6780444225339828417?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/6780444225339828417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=6780444225339828417' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6780444225339828417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6780444225339828417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/08/o-problema-que-eu-deixo-me-contaminar.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-1217271137310839850</id><published>2008-08-16T18:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T08:02:16.504-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Uns querem amor, mas se conformam com o costume, com o bem-querer e só. Bem-querer é tão pouco e costume pode durar, mas não permanece. Muitas vezes, até percebem o desamor, o desinteresse e um monte de outros ‘des’, no entanto, estão lá grudados, agarrados numa coisa qualquer que pensam ser um grande sentimento, mas, normalmente não é. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Nem respiram, nem deixam respirar...&lt;br /&gt;Um grande sentimento tem que brilhar e não só está lá, existir.&lt;br /&gt;Se contentar com subejos de sentimentos nunca foi para mim. Eu prefiro ter nada a ter pouco.&lt;br /&gt;Eu quero ser a mais amada. Criar no outro um sentimento inefável, ser para sempre. E assim tem sido.&lt;br /&gt;Tenho pena dos que se contentam com pouco, mas acho que não deveria... Se, se contentam, se conformam e talvez não sofram. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Tenho então por eles certo desdém... Pela falta de amor-próprio, pela anulação.&lt;br /&gt;Essas pessoas passam, e nem notam. Pensam que estão lá e continuam presas a uma realidade fajuta, forçando fatos e acreditando em coisas que não existem.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-1217271137310839850?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/1217271137310839850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=1217271137310839850' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1217271137310839850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1217271137310839850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/08/uns-querem-amor-mas-se-conformam-com-o.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-5838033836981363122</id><published>2008-08-07T07:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T09:55:20.227-07:00</updated><title type='text'>excessiva(mente)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Eu sinto meu coração batendo forte dentro do peito. Eu vejo fora do peito meu coração batendo, pela pele, pela roupa. Descompassado e forte.&lt;br /&gt;As minhas mãos gélidas tremulam e minha voz embarga sem nenhum efeito.&lt;br /&gt;Não consigo lidar com o medo. Porque sei que amor e medo não ocupam o mesmo espaço.&lt;br /&gt;Minha emoção não sabe falar baixo e eu sempre acabo tropeçando nos fatos.&lt;br /&gt;Auto-controle, eu preciso de auto-controle: Ouvir com sentimento e agir com razão.&lt;br /&gt;Sou emocionalmente tola e só pela emoção escuto e faço.&lt;br /&gt;Tempos atrás achava tão poético não ser racional.&lt;br /&gt;Hoje eu queria perder a poesia. Criar uma casca grossa e fria, para não mais sofrer de emoção.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-5838033836981363122?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/5838033836981363122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=5838033836981363122' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/5838033836981363122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/5838033836981363122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/08/eu-sinto-meu-corao-batendo-forte-dentro.html' title='excessiva(mente)'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-3443990565933558761</id><published>2008-07-30T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T19:11:59.272-07:00</updated><title type='text'>saudade</title><content type='html'>Saudade é coisa ruim que rói dentro do peito.&lt;br /&gt;É um aperto apertado. É nó bem dado na garganta.&lt;br /&gt;É um vazio, um abismo, um buraco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saudade é coisa esquisita de se ter e de sentir.&lt;br /&gt;Saudade engasga e escorre pelos olhos.&lt;br /&gt;É ausência e urgência. É falta e vontade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[saudade só passa quando estou nos teus braços]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-3443990565933558761?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/3443990565933558761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=3443990565933558761' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3443990565933558761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3443990565933558761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/07/saudade.html' title='saudade'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-6719692539966658457</id><published>2008-07-29T19:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T19:15:46.149-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>deus protege os loucos de bom coração.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-6719692539966658457?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/6719692539966658457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=6719692539966658457' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6719692539966658457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6719692539966658457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/07/deus-protege-os-loucos-de-bom-corao.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-5764070417721007958</id><published>2008-06-10T19:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T19:13:01.648-07:00</updated><title type='text'>chá da tarde</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;“Parece extremamente improvável que a humanidade, de um modo geral, jamais seja capaz de passar sem &lt;strong&gt;Paraísos Artificiais&lt;/strong&gt;. A maioria dos homens e mulheres leva uma vida tão sofredora em seus pontos baixos e tão monótona em suas eminências, tão pobre e limitada, que os desejos de fuga, os anseios para superar-se, ainda por uns breves momentos, estão e têm estado sempre entre os principais apetites da alma.” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Aldous Huxley.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-5764070417721007958?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/5764070417721007958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=5764070417721007958' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/5764070417721007958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/5764070417721007958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/06/ch-da-tarde.html' title='chá da tarde'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-7610855918176790940</id><published>2008-06-06T18:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T18:29:54.753-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mais dois</title><content type='html'>Meus cabelos brancos crescem em proporção acelerada se comparados aos meus outros fios.&lt;br /&gt;E sabe aquele lance que dizem que para cada fio branco que você arranca nasce mais dois??&lt;br /&gt;Acho que é verdade...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-7610855918176790940?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/7610855918176790940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=7610855918176790940' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/7610855918176790940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/7610855918176790940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/06/mais-dois.html' title='mais dois'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-8083968347827650766</id><published>2008-05-22T13:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T14:15:41.855-07:00</updated><title type='text'>desencanto e desencontros</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;E de novo me aparece assim na hora errada. Porque nascemos com nosso ‘time’ desencontrado. A minha vida e a sua têm diferentes fuso-horários. E sempre foi assim. E vai ser sempre desse jeito. E hoje o que pulsa no meu peito tem outro nome. E o teu nome já não causa o mesmo efeito. A minha boca clama por outro homem e são dele todos os meus beijos. E é nele que penso ao acordar e quando me deito. Não perdesse para mim o sentido. Foi o que eu sentia que se esvaeceu. Ficou démodé com o tempo. Cansou, acabou, morreu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-8083968347827650766?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/8083968347827650766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=8083968347827650766' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/8083968347827650766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/8083968347827650766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/05/desencanto-e-desencontros.html' title='desencanto e desencontros'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-7077986721595044668</id><published>2008-05-09T14:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T13:41:40.542-07:00</updated><title type='text'>indigestão</title><content type='html'>O prato principal do dia de hoje é a intolerância. Acompanhada de muito preconceito e uma pitada generosa de ignorância.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E nada de fumar unzinho para ajudar na digestão desse bolor amargo de julgamentos e distorções.&lt;br /&gt;Ele está proibido!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-7077986721595044668?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/7077986721595044668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=7077986721595044668' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/7077986721595044668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/7077986721595044668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/05/prato-do-dia.html' title='indigestão'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-8239952383922283771</id><published>2008-05-07T12:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T12:44:27.174-07:00</updated><title type='text'>07/05/2008</title><content type='html'>Hoje vi as horas passarem. Uma a uma. As horas e os seus minutos. Devagar.&lt;br /&gt;Vagaram meus pensamentos por todo o dia.&lt;br /&gt;E se hoje o dia é meu quero está comigo e só comigo.&lt;br /&gt;Hoje quis ser uma coisa que eu nunca fui.&lt;br /&gt;Quis pensar só em mim e no que eu sou.&lt;br /&gt;Quis esquecer o sentido das coisas, dos dias e dos anos que passam.&lt;br /&gt;Eu também estou passando.&lt;br /&gt;Comemorei sim, mas não externamente. Minha alma e meu coração fizeram festa dentro de mim e celebraram a vida: a minha vida.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-8239952383922283771?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/8239952383922283771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=8239952383922283771' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/8239952383922283771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/8239952383922283771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/05/07052008.html' title='07/05/2008'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-1578684826267321238</id><published>2008-05-06T19:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T19:54:19.532-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bolo de canela</title><content type='html'>Aquele mesmo bolo de canela que você ia trazer para mim?&lt;br /&gt;Então não traga mais. Não quero dividir nada com ela.&lt;br /&gt;Nem seus pensamentos, nem o bolo de canela.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-1578684826267321238?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/1578684826267321238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=1578684826267321238' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1578684826267321238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1578684826267321238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/05/bolo-de-canela.html' title='bolo de canela'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-1741645500154737381</id><published>2008-04-29T05:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T14:28:08.778-07:00</updated><title type='text'>para sempre</title><content type='html'>ela: -amor, você quer água?&lt;br /&gt;ele: -não. quero você. para sempre.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-1741645500154737381?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/1741645500154737381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=1741645500154737381' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1741645500154737381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1741645500154737381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/04/ela-amor-voc-quer-gua-ele-no.html' title='para sempre'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-4219443585161017994</id><published>2008-03-26T06:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T14:16:01.831-07:00</updated><title type='text'>cotidiano</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Gosto de ser tua e se me queres nua, ando sem pudores pelo teu mundo.&lt;br /&gt;Transbordo os meus mais profundos desejos e vou deixando-os um a um em cada canto da casa, como uma peça de roupa usada.&lt;br /&gt;Me visto com teus beijos, me cubro com teu amor e adormeço nos braços da confiança.&lt;br /&gt;E o som da tua voz me acorda no meio da noite com um suave EU TE AMO.&lt;br /&gt;Amanheço serena na melhor companhia e te faço poemas enquanto colores meu dia com cores vibrantes de alegria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosto de ser tua intimamente, imensamente. E se me queres por perto me farei presente.&lt;br /&gt;E quando não estiver junto, estarei dentro. Estarei num pensamento, num detalhe, numa canção.&lt;br /&gt;Te entrego junto com meu coração, a minha mais prematura saudade.&lt;br /&gt;Me visto de ansiedade, sofro com nossos corpos em desencaixe e espero por teus beijos.&lt;br /&gt;Logo te tenho em mim de novo. Repouso, então, nos teus braços e tua voz me acorda com um bom dia em cores, amanheço amores, outra vez.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-4219443585161017994?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/4219443585161017994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=4219443585161017994' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/4219443585161017994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/4219443585161017994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/03/cotidiano.html' title='cotidiano'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-2072943344750627528</id><published>2008-03-20T08:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-17T03:14:31.416-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Sem você, a emoção de hoje seria pele morta da emoção do passado"&lt;br /&gt;Hipólito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O Fabuloso destino de Amélie Poulan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-2072943344750627528?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/2072943344750627528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=2072943344750627528' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/2072943344750627528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/2072943344750627528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/03/sem-voc-emoo-de-hoje-seria-pele-morta.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-6864585724404051410</id><published>2008-03-12T20:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T20:43:27.345-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>As cores sem você perdem a graça. E os lugares, meu bem, são apenas lugares.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-6864585724404051410?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/6864585724404051410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=6864585724404051410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6864585724404051410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6864585724404051410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/03/as-cores-sem-voc-perdem-graa.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-9017116593027885987</id><published>2008-02-12T04:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T09:53:23.671-08:00</updated><title type='text'>chuva com amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="justify"&gt;Ela não queria fugir da chuva. Queria esperar a chuva chegar, sentir a chuva até a chuva passar. Ela que anos antes não gostava dos dias cinzas havia aprendido que um dia de chuva podia ser tão belo quanto um dia de sol, cada um a sua maneira, então resolveu esperar. Esperou e viu achuva se aproximar. O céu cada vez mais escuro e o mar cada vez mais revolto. Ele não parecia confortável, mas ela não quis se esconder. Ele era sua melhor proteção e os braços dele o melhor amparo para sentir a chuva. Sentiu. Sentiram. E a chuva ficou cada vez mais forte, tão forte que eles precisaram procurar abrigo, bem perto dali já estavam abrigados e continuavam a contemplar a chuva. Ela dançou para ele e dançou com ele para se esquentarem. Sorriram e trocaram tantos beijos e carícias, quase se amaram ali mesmo, quase. A chuva passou e abençoou o amor que tanto esperaram para viver. Na volta para casa ainda admiraram de mãos dadas um belo arco-íris que se exibia completo no horizonte.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-9017116593027885987?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/9017116593027885987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=9017116593027885987' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/9017116593027885987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/9017116593027885987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/02/chuva-com-amor.html' title='chuva com amor'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-2086822454805708323</id><published>2008-01-16T08:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T09:07:42.999-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Vivia perdida entre suas dúvidas e reclamava por não ter nenhuma certeza. Hoje ela tem uma certeza. Apenas uma. Mas, se encontrou e é feliz, porque sua certeza é maior que tudo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-2086822454805708323?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/2086822454805708323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=2086822454805708323' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/2086822454805708323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/2086822454805708323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2008/01/vivia-perdida-nas-dvidas-e-reclamava.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-144455533340376397</id><published>2007-12-16T18:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T14:28:34.681-07:00</updated><title type='text'>náusea</title><content type='html'>A náusea não está em mim: sinto-a ali na parede, por todo o lado ao redor de mim. Ela forma um todo com o café: sou eu que estou nela.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sartre.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-144455533340376397?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/144455533340376397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=144455533340376397' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/144455533340376397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/144455533340376397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/12/nusea-no-est-em-mim-sinto-ali-na-parede.html' title='náusea'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-1867978748268676819</id><published>2007-11-26T10:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T10:11:22.487-08:00</updated><title type='text'>amor perdido</title><content type='html'>Devolve-me todo amor agora.&lt;br /&gt;Tentei, tentei, mas já não consigo.&lt;br /&gt;Cospe para fora tudo isso que te dei um dia.&lt;br /&gt;Vomita todo sentimento. Eu quero de volta poder sentir.&lt;br /&gt;Porque todo amor que eu tinha não era pouco.&lt;br /&gt;Porque todo amor que te dei ficou ai.&lt;br /&gt;E eu, hoje louca e sem amor o que faço?&lt;br /&gt;Eu não sabia que era assim... Dei-te todo amor do mundo e nunca mais fui feliz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-1867978748268676819?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/1867978748268676819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=1867978748268676819' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1867978748268676819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1867978748268676819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/11/amor-perdido.html' title='amor perdido'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-5533267944607245734</id><published>2007-11-07T08:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T08:39:19.703-08:00</updated><title type='text'>dia de chuva</title><content type='html'>Para que eu possa sair na rua chorando sem ninguém perceber.&lt;br /&gt;Para que minhas lágrimas se confundam com as gotas da chuva.&lt;br /&gt;Porque na minha alma também chove.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-5533267944607245734?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/5533267944607245734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=5533267944607245734' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/5533267944607245734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/5533267944607245734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/11/dia-de-chuva.html' title='dia de chuva'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-442150278390661781</id><published>2007-11-05T13:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T13:58:45.449-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>É por não querer fazer sofrer que eu mais sofro.&lt;br /&gt;E por cuidar tanto assim dos outros que me esqueço.&lt;br /&gt;É um peso no peito que me sufoca agora.&lt;br /&gt;E um bolor nas idéias que me incomoda.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-442150278390661781?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/442150278390661781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=442150278390661781' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/442150278390661781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/442150278390661781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/11/por-no-querer-fazer-sofrer-que-eu-mais.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-4235364484789181663</id><published>2007-10-11T10:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-11T10:22:09.322-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Primeiro foi a mente, depois o corpo que adoeceu.&lt;br /&gt;E eu, pobre coitada, não agüento mais idas e vindas a hospitais.&lt;br /&gt;Remédios e agulhas.&lt;br /&gt;-Pra achar uma veia que não foi furada tem que procurar.&lt;br /&gt;Me sobra sono, mas eu mal durmo.&lt;br /&gt;Me falta ar, mas me resta agonia.&lt;br /&gt;Tosses em todos os tons.&lt;br /&gt;Escarros de todas as cores.&lt;br /&gt;Nem bem, nem mal, eu estou cansada.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-4235364484789181663?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/4235364484789181663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=4235364484789181663' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/4235364484789181663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/4235364484789181663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/10/primeiro-foi-mente-depois-o-corpo-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-3573830551013052126</id><published>2007-09-20T08:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T09:01:35.941-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Arre, estou farto de semideuses!&lt;br /&gt;Onde é que há gente no mundo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cada vez suporto menos aqueles que pensam que são mais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.insite.com.br/art/pessoa/ficcoes/acampos/538.html"&gt;http://www.insite.com.br/art/pessoa/ficcoes/acampos/538.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-3573830551013052126?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/3573830551013052126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=3573830551013052126' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3573830551013052126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3573830551013052126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/09/arre-estou-farto-de-semideuses-onde-que.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-1823789269201023811</id><published>2007-09-14T16:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-05T10:51:55.279-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu tenho mesmo essa mania de ser mais solidária na dor do que na alegria.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-1823789269201023811?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/1823789269201023811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=1823789269201023811' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1823789269201023811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1823789269201023811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/09/eu-tenho-mesmo-essa-mania-de-ser-mais.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-7578185398021011893</id><published>2007-09-11T10:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T06:56:14.665-07:00</updated><title type='text'>lembranças</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/RvZwXmQ-NiI/AAAAAAAAAB0/jbjeb7ld-zA/s1600-h/pitanga.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113397977636812322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/RvZwXmQ-NiI/AAAAAAAAAB0/jbjeb7ld-zA/s320/pitanga.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;                                                                        minha infância tem gosto de pitanga!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-7578185398021011893?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/7578185398021011893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=7578185398021011893' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/7578185398021011893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/7578185398021011893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/09/lembranas.html' title='lembranças'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/RvZwXmQ-NiI/AAAAAAAAAB0/jbjeb7ld-zA/s72-c/pitanga.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-4192694361251157272</id><published>2007-09-04T18:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T18:57:24.277-07:00</updated><title type='text'>desejando ilusões</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Quando desejamos ilusões, não atingimos a verdade de nossos próprios desejos.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-4192694361251157272?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/4192694361251157272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=4192694361251157272' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/4192694361251157272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/4192694361251157272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/09/desejando-iluses.html' title='desejando ilusões'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-9050555564809929822</id><published>2007-09-03T17:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T17:18:32.521-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;saudade&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1.&lt;/strong&gt; lembrança nostálgica e, ao mesmo tempo, suave, de pessoa ou coisa distante ou extinta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2.&lt;/strong&gt; pesar pela ausência de alguém que nos é querido.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-9050555564809929822?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/9050555564809929822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=9050555564809929822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/9050555564809929822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/9050555564809929822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/09/2.html' title='2'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-4012135951186727808</id><published>2007-08-28T08:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T08:22:33.829-07:00</updated><title type='text'>o podre da minha essência</title><content type='html'>As vezes me transformo eu algo que eu não sou, mas me lembro bem porque já fui.&lt;br /&gt;E num surto, por um minuto ou um pouco mais, volto a ser quem eu condeno e me enveneno de ira e histeria.&lt;br /&gt;Exercito a paciência, procurando meu equilíbrio, cortejo minha demência.&lt;br /&gt;Esse meu temperamento arredio não combina mais comigo.&lt;br /&gt;Evitar está sendo cada vez mais difícil. Há uma certa constância nesse tormento.&lt;br /&gt;Algo em mim, aqui, lá dentro, estranhamente, tema em resgatar sem confiança o mais podre da minha essência.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-4012135951186727808?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/4012135951186727808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=4012135951186727808' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/4012135951186727808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/4012135951186727808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/08/o-podre-da-minha-essncia.html' title='o podre da minha essência'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-4403522003147090056</id><published>2007-08-27T06:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T12:13:19.730-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mundo dos sentidos</title><content type='html'>Nunca podemos chegar a conhecer verdadeiramente algo que se transforma. Sobre as coisas do &lt;em&gt;mundo dos sentidos&lt;/em&gt;, podemos ter,&lt;br /&gt;apenas, opiniões incertas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Platão]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-4403522003147090056?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/4403522003147090056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=4403522003147090056' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/4403522003147090056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/4403522003147090056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/08/deixa-que-eu-chuto.html' title='mundo dos sentidos'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-5062255407432136226</id><published>2007-08-20T10:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T10:52:20.041-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mais um encontro</title><content type='html'>Se você sonha com algo tão real que não parece sonho. Como saber se não estava sonhando quando acordar?&lt;br /&gt;Ou, como saber se não estava acordado quando sonhar?&lt;br /&gt;Acordado em outro tempo, em outro plano ou dimensão.&lt;br /&gt;Essa noite, eu estive acordada enquanto sonhava. Eu estive com ela.&lt;br /&gt;Procurei algum motivo que explicasse nosso encontro. E achei.&lt;br /&gt;Hoje é dia 20. 20 de agosto. O dia em que ela se despediu do mundo e passou a viver apenas nos meus sonhos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-5062255407432136226?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/5062255407432136226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=5062255407432136226' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/5062255407432136226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/5062255407432136226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/08/mais-um-encontro.html' title='mais um encontro'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-3636811810809430553</id><published>2007-08-17T09:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T09:26:03.201-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>experimentando novos sabores.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-3636811810809430553?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/3636811810809430553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=3636811810809430553' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3636811810809430553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3636811810809430553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/08/experimentando-novos-sabores.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-2787393319794488426</id><published>2007-08-14T07:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-14T07:26:18.651-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a muito tempo atrás</title><content type='html'>Eu precisava de um pouco mais que um abraço. Eu precisava de te ter em meus braços e te dizer o quanto eu esperei. O quanto esperei pra te ver de novo, te olhar nos olhos e reparar você. Ver se seu cabelo cresceu, se você engordou, se seu sorriso mudou ou se envelheceu.&lt;br /&gt;Eu queria mais que uma conversa. Eu queria a tua verdade descrita em palavras. Eu queria juras e declarações de amor. Queria poemas e poesias da sua autoria e feitos para mim. Ver se seu amor não morreu e se você não se esqueceu o que prometeu, enfim.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-2787393319794488426?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/2787393319794488426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=2787393319794488426' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/2787393319794488426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/2787393319794488426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/08/muito-tempo-atrs.html' title='a muito tempo atrás'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-203534146322505992</id><published>2007-07-29T16:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T07:10:26.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>na vertente da piração underground.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-203534146322505992?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/203534146322505992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=203534146322505992' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/203534146322505992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/203534146322505992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/07/na-vertente-da-pirao-underground.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-2337282021884688604</id><published>2007-07-27T06:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T07:09:58.403-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>morreu?&lt;br /&gt;morreu.&lt;br /&gt;morreu de que?&lt;br /&gt;de ostra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(nunca mais eu como ostra)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-2337282021884688604?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/2337282021884688604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=2337282021884688604' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/2337282021884688604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/2337282021884688604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/07/nunca-mais-eu-como-ostra.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-1235694952568467872</id><published>2007-07-26T09:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-26T09:10:55.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'>floresta do sofrer III</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;E lá estava ela mais uma vez. A moça pálida de olhos tristes trazia nas mãos suas sementes. Segurando firme para não perdê-las enquanto caminhava na escuridão.&lt;br /&gt;Salivava o tão conhecido gosto amargo da tristeza e cuspia diversas vezes na tentativa de se livrar do que aquele gosto ruim significava.&lt;br /&gt;Entre soluços e lágrimas caminhava procurando um bom lugar para plantar suas sementes. Entre seus maus sentimentos, dessa vez, existia a raiva. Uma raiva desmedida de si mesma. E ela nem sabia porque sentia.&lt;br /&gt;Não achava ruim ter que voltar ali, enfim, já tinha se acostumado e voltar na sua floresta era preciso. Mas, sempre se espantava com a quantidade de árvores plantadas por ela mesma. Apesar de tudo se sentia segura naquele lugar que era só seu.&lt;br /&gt;Então fez o que tinha de fazer: Enterrou as sementes. Chorou muito, o suficiente para deixar úmido todo chão da floresta. regou suas plantas. Conteve as lágrimas. Controlou a raiva que sentia de si. Já era dia. Virou as costas e caminhou de volta para casa, sabendo que logo voltaria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se quer entender mais, precisa ler também:&lt;br /&gt;http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2006_05_01_archive.html&lt;br /&gt;http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2006_11_01_archive.html&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-1235694952568467872?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/1235694952568467872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=1235694952568467872' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1235694952568467872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1235694952568467872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/07/floresta-do-sofrer-iii.html' title='floresta do sofrer III'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-6661562790099035768</id><published>2007-07-25T11:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T07:14:40.528-07:00</updated><title type='text'>amor e disputa</title><content type='html'>Na natureza atuam duas forças.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Amor e disputa&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;O que une as coisas é o amor. O que separa é a disputa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Empédocles, filósofo pré-socrático)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-6661562790099035768?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/6661562790099035768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=6661562790099035768' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6661562790099035768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6661562790099035768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/07/empdocles-filsofo-grego-dizia-que-na.html' title='amor e disputa'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-1341991683612535828</id><published>2007-07-24T07:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-24T07:55:20.708-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;'quem somos é sempre uma decisão nossa'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;waking life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;descobri que se eu não sou nada, então posso ser o que eu quiser.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-1341991683612535828?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/1341991683612535828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=1341991683612535828' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1341991683612535828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1341991683612535828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/07/quem-somos-sempre-uma-deciso-nossa_24.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-6051708154808564815</id><published>2007-07-23T08:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T14:29:44.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>é imoral, ilegal ou engorda&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-6051708154808564815?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/6051708154808564815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=6051708154808564815' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6051708154808564815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6051708154808564815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/07/quem-somos-sempre-uma-deciso-nossa.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-6582706627232316902</id><published>2007-07-19T08:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T08:37:06.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>pode ser falta de vitamina B12&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-6582706627232316902?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/6582706627232316902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=6582706627232316902' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6582706627232316902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/6582706627232316902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/07/pode-ser-falta-de-vitamina-b12.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-8400428427903876382</id><published>2007-07-18T13:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T07:11:25.570-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mamão, coco e saudade</title><content type='html'>doce de mamão com coco tem gosto de saudade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-8400428427903876382?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/8400428427903876382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=8400428427903876382' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/8400428427903876382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/8400428427903876382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/07/mamo-coco-e-saudade.html' title='mamão, coco e saudade'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-4687230601517792475</id><published>2007-07-18T12:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T07:15:47.045-07:00</updated><title type='text'>lá</title><content type='html'>um lugar mágico, com pessoas incríveis e carrapato de verdade.&lt;br /&gt;Cachoeira Alta Dance Festival 2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quanta saudade tenho sentido de lá e das pessoas que lá conheci.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-4687230601517792475?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/4687230601517792475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=4687230601517792475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/4687230601517792475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/4687230601517792475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/07/l.html' title='lá'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-5719005753899407598</id><published>2007-07-08T14:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T14:30:13.799-07:00</updated><title type='text'>corpo x mente</title><content type='html'>as vezes se estabelece os próprios limites sem perguntar se o corpo aguenta.&lt;br /&gt;e o corpo sempre aguenta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e a mente? a minha precisa de descanso.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-5719005753899407598?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/5719005753899407598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=5719005753899407598' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/5719005753899407598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/5719005753899407598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/07/as-vezes-se-estabelece-os-prprios.html' title='corpo x mente'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-7804833938392286667</id><published>2007-07-04T07:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-04T08:34:40.937-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Se considerarmos todas as possibilidades de que ocorram coisas inesperadas em cada segundo da nossa frágil vida, podemos considerar cada dia como um lindo milagre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[estive pensando muito nisso nesses últimos dias]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-7804833938392286667?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/7804833938392286667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=7804833938392286667' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/7804833938392286667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/7804833938392286667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/07/se-considerarmos-todas-as.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-3406732900542828680</id><published>2007-06-25T07:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-25T08:14:30.985-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;'seriamos bem melhores se não quiséssemos ser tão bons'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;explica freud&lt;br /&gt;mas, será?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-3406732900542828680?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/3406732900542828680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=3406732900542828680' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3406732900542828680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3406732900542828680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/06/seriamos-bem-melhores-se-nao-quisssemos.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-9214745552475853426</id><published>2007-06-24T10:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T07:18:14.801-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span &gt;é tempo de pensar na vida sem esperar que a vida te apresente os porquês.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-9214745552475853426?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/9214745552475853426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=9214745552475853426' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/9214745552475853426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/9214745552475853426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/06/tempo-de-pensar-sem-esperar-que-vida-te.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-7313853768702393174</id><published>2007-06-15T06:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T07:18:59.539-07:00</updated><title type='text'>confusão</title><content type='html'>&lt;span &gt;São umas coisas engasgadas, que não sei se devem ser contadas, cuspidas ou guardadas.&lt;br /&gt;São uns sentimentos estranhos, mas tão sem tamanho que não sei bem o que são.&lt;br /&gt;São uns medos e certezas, estranhezas e franquezas que por aqui, em mim, estão.&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/20498034-7313853768702393174?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/7313853768702393174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=7313853768702393174' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/7313853768702393174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/7313853768702393174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/06/confuso.html' title='confusão'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-7973016525292360611</id><published>2007-05-23T06:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T09:28:41.166-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2 vidas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"Temos todos duas vidas: uma sonhada, outra vivida" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;[quase dois irmãos]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Temos, todos que vivemos, uma vida que é vivida e outra que é pensada. E a única vida que temos; Essa é dividida entre a verdadeira &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;e a errada"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;[fernando pessoa]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-7973016525292360611?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/7973016525292360611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=7973016525292360611' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/7973016525292360611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/7973016525292360611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/05/temos-todos-duas-vidas-uma-sonhada.html' title='2 vidas'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-2307836747187221778</id><published>2007-05-23T06:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T06:57:13.826-07:00</updated><title type='text'>meu espelho</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Negros olhos transparentes.&lt;br /&gt;Olhos vivos e eloqüentes.&lt;br /&gt;Olhos de luz e poesia.&lt;br /&gt;Os mais belos olhos!&lt;br /&gt;Olhos que brilham. Olhos que gosto.&lt;br /&gt;Olhos que dizem o que teu coração sente.&lt;br /&gt;Teus olhos não sabem mentir.&lt;br /&gt;Ah! Teus belos olhos!&lt;br /&gt;Olhos que me cuidam e me desejam.&lt;br /&gt;Olhos em que me vejo.&lt;br /&gt;Para onde eu fujo e onde me perco.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-2307836747187221778?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/2307836747187221778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=2307836747187221778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/2307836747187221778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/2307836747187221778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/05/meu-espelho.html' title='meu espelho'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-4346627804357922766</id><published>2007-05-15T13:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T17:00:09.125-07:00</updated><title type='text'>lá vem ela</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Por aqui já se contam os dias.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Serão dias de alegria os que estão por vir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dias multicoloridos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Dias de loucas teorias.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Dias para matar a saudade e morrer de rir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-4346627804357922766?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/4346627804357922766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=4346627804357922766' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/4346627804357922766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/4346627804357922766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/05/l-vem-ela.html' title='lá vem ela'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-1523957928404058911</id><published>2007-05-10T07:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T10:05:40.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>aniversário</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Mais um ano se passou e lá estava aquele dia. Nesse ano ela comemorou, não na data exata, mas, comemorou.  Como quem não sabe o que comemora lá estava ela entre tantos queridos e isso parecia lhe bastar. Não se fez perguntas difíceis e sem respostas, não se cobrou nada. Não dessa vez. Sorria, apenas sorria. Lembrou de todos os seus verdadeiros amigos; Os que não estão mais aqui porque foram levados para um mundo distante e os que por qualquer motivo não estavam ali, imaginou todos bem perto sorrindo junto com ela e então aprendeu naquele momento que independente da data ou da razão, está &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;entre&lt;/span&gt; amigos é o que mais importa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-1523957928404058911?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/1523957928404058911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=1523957928404058911' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1523957928404058911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1523957928404058911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/05/aniversrio.html' title='aniversário'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-3597034733993592017</id><published>2007-04-26T10:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T10:32:27.698-07:00</updated><title type='text'>olhos de poesia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Luz. Os teus olhos têm uma luz que nenhum olhar mais tem.&lt;br /&gt;Luz que me encanta e ilumina meus dias.&lt;br /&gt;Olhos de poesia que olham para mim e para mais ninguém.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-3597034733993592017?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/3597034733993592017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=3597034733993592017' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3597034733993592017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3597034733993592017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/04/olhos-de-poesia.html' title='olhos de poesia'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-2112236081317891770</id><published>2007-04-19T08:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-22T17:16:53.016-07:00</updated><title type='text'>inativa</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Eu queria escrever, mas, algo me cala. Deve ser a chegada daquela data incomoda. E eu fico assim... Sem graça. Esquisita, mais do que o normal. Não consigo interpretar meus pensamentos que não param, nem consigo organizar as minhas idéias ingratas. E as mesmas perguntas sem respostas de todos os anos, como sempre, me encurralam. Eu queria escrever, mas ando com pressa e sem criatividade. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Ando farta de meias verdades e das tantas cobranças que eu mesma me faço.&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/20498034-2112236081317891770?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/2112236081317891770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=2112236081317891770' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/2112236081317891770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/2112236081317891770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/04/inativa.html' title='inativa'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-5986937997758388493</id><published>2007-04-14T17:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T18:24:26.332-07:00</updated><title type='text'>o eu profundo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Tenho pensamentos que, se pudesse revelá-los e fazê-los viver, acrescentariam nova luminosidade às estrelas, nova beleza ao &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;mundo e maior amor ao coração dos homens."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fernando Pessoa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-5986937997758388493?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/5986937997758388493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=5986937997758388493' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/5986937997758388493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/5986937997758388493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/04/o-eu-profundo.html' title='o eu profundo'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-5548930249616180541</id><published>2007-04-03T16:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T14:35:30.373-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fim</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Todo fim é triste. Mesmo estando ele anunciado. Mesmo estando cada dia um pouco acabado. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Quando de fato acontece é triste, ainda mais se vimos&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;o começo de tudo, se vivenciamos o meio e de alguma forma, e em algum momento, tentamos impedir o seu fim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-5548930249616180541?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/5548930249616180541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=5548930249616180541' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/5548930249616180541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/5548930249616180541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/04/todo-fim-triste.html' title='fim'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-3910129577625114028</id><published>2007-03-25T12:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T15:14:31.681-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sim!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;ao dizermos sim, sem reservas, voamos livres no espaço e paralisamos o tempo. somos um para o outro, como porta e chave para o universo e aceitamoos ser condutores daquele elemento que une os átomos e faz girar galáxias.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-3910129577625114028?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/3910129577625114028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=3910129577625114028' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3910129577625114028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3910129577625114028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/03/sim.html' title='sim!'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-3919162686681604183</id><published>2007-03-21T18:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T07:22:30.287-07:00</updated><title type='text'>saudade</title><content type='html'>"saudade é a memória do coração".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;happy tree friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-3919162686681604183?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/3919162686681604183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=3919162686681604183' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3919162686681604183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3919162686681604183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/03/saudade-memria-do-corao.html' title='saudade'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-415355223231494014</id><published>2007-03-16T07:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T07:27:06.738-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;jornalistas mortos não mentem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;(Mundo livre S/A)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-415355223231494014?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/415355223231494014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=415355223231494014' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/415355223231494014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/415355223231494014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/03/jornalistas-mortos-no-mentem-mundo.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-1375446165122734243</id><published>2007-03-14T17:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-14T18:27:27.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;'... muitas vezes corremos para o lado errado. mas, agora sei que se eu correr para qualquer lado e você estiver de mãos dadas comigo estarei correndo para o lado certo...'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cracatoa.com.br"&gt;www.cracatoa.com.br&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-1375446165122734243?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/1375446165122734243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=1375446165122734243' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1375446165122734243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/1375446165122734243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/03/blog-post_14.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-8521658382189932432</id><published>2007-03-07T05:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T07:28:48.756-07:00</updated><title type='text'>tempo de planos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span &gt;Estranho e impreciso eu faço planos sem saber se vou cumprí-los. Eu te incluo e nem sei se vai está comigo. Eu me incluo e nem sei o que será de mim nesse tempo. Esse tempo que anda cada vez mais rápido, cada vez mais denso, me levando amores, me deixando dores: Amores de festim, dores reais. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span &gt;O tempo passa e com ele tudo vai passando. E por aqui tudo passa, é pouco o que vai ficando. Estou farta de adeus e falsos amores. De rasgar as cartas, apagar as fotos, queimar o resto. Construir para depois derrubar.&lt;br /&gt;Quero ir contra o tempo ou nele parar. Quero que dessa vez seja ‘para sempre’. E não apenas acreditar que será. Eternizar os momentos, viver os planos. Realizar! Sonhar sem precisar acordar.&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/20498034-8521658382189932432?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/8521658382189932432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=8521658382189932432' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/8521658382189932432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/8521658382189932432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/03/medo-do-tempo.html' title='tempo de planos'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-4892347337748870755</id><published>2007-03-06T04:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T07:29:25.876-07:00</updated><title type='text'>prematura saudade</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span &gt;Que terça-feira sem graça, já começa abstrata e um pouco esquisita.&lt;br /&gt;Eu não acordei em teus braços e sem teus abraços vou passar o dia...&lt;br /&gt;Me acostumei com a tua presença diária. Minha casa calada está tão vazia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que terça-feira ingrata, a tua ausência meu corpo maltrata e me traz melancolia.&lt;br /&gt;Eu não descanso no teu peito e sem teus carinhos hoje vou ter que ficar.&lt;br /&gt;Me acostumei em te ter noite e dia. Minha cama mais fria agora tem que esperar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&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/20498034-4892347337748870755?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/4892347337748870755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=4892347337748870755' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/4892347337748870755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/4892347337748870755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/03/prematura-saudade.html' title='prematura saudade'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-3897404230449818798</id><published>2007-03-01T15:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T07:31:52.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A mão que afaga é a mesma que apedreja.&lt;br /&gt;(Versos Íntimos, Augusto dos Anjos)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sábio 'dos Anjos', hoje sei bem o que ele quis dizer com isso.&lt;br /&gt;Como são podres os homens...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-3897404230449818798?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/3897404230449818798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=3897404230449818798' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3897404230449818798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3897404230449818798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/03/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-4081525267236344529</id><published>2007-02-11T17:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-11T17:22:00.328-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Eu não quero ter que 'limpar o amor das expectativas'. Não quero!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/20498034-4081525267236344529?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/4081525267236344529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=4081525267236344529' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/4081525267236344529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/4081525267236344529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/02/eu-no-quero-ter-que-limpar-o-amor-das.html' title=''/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20498034.post-3686345219123258952</id><published>2007-02-11T17:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-09T15:34:01.510-08:00</updated><title type='text'>nosso lugar II</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Eu estive lá, mas dessa vez você não estava.&lt;br /&gt;Nem estavam lá a alegria e o desejo,&lt;br /&gt;Dessa vez quem me acompanhou foi a agonia.&lt;br /&gt;Eu não senti o cheiro de camomila, mas também não senti o cheiro azedo de despedida.&lt;br /&gt;Senti uma falta da vida...&lt;br /&gt;Eu estive lá e lá você não estava.&lt;br /&gt;Mas o amor, ele ainda estava lá.&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/20498034-3686345219123258952?l=antipoetico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/feeds/3686345219123258952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=20498034&amp;postID=3686345219123258952' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3686345219123258952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/20498034/posts/default/3686345219123258952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://antipoetico.blogspot.com/2007/02/nosso-lugar-ii.html' title='nosso lugar II'/><author><name>Giovanna Campos</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rRFLMzfOEJU/SNuHRondefI/AAAAAAAAAEo/qn_1_hjIito/S220/DSC04827.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
