<?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'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995</id><updated>2009-11-09T21:45:54.176Z</updated><title type='text'>PIANO</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>252</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-6121009968293964905</id><published>2009-11-09T21:31:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-11-09T21:44:23.282Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline; font-weight: bold;"&gt;a noite é matéria de delito .presença de todos os enigmas. textuantes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SviKXT-OK0I/AAAAAAAAGYo/zoycd2dq2RI/s1600-h/picture004125841.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 700px; height: 800px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SviKXT-OK0I/AAAAAAAAGYo/zoycd2dq2RI/s400/picture004125841.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402219886133783362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SviKPnclqwI/AAAAAAAAGYg/bPFWS-0UuAw/s1600-h/dc+gila-moon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 688px; height: 273px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SviKPnclqwI/AAAAAAAAGYg/bPFWS-0UuAw/s400/dc+gila-moon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402219753922472706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355033723597426995-6121009968293964905?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/6121009968293964905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/6121009968293964905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post_09.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SviKXT-OK0I/AAAAAAAAGYo/zoycd2dq2RI/s72-c/picture004125841.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-8678157595869605352</id><published>2009-11-09T09:17:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-11-09T09:42:17.882Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvfjqXvNTwI/AAAAAAAAGYY/JSzvvWOLc_Y/s1600-h/Techo_de_Altamira_%2528replica%2529-Museo_Arqueol%25C3%25B3gico_Nacional.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 800px; height: 768px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvfjqXvNTwI/AAAAAAAAGYY/JSzvvWOLc_Y/s400/Techo_de_Altamira_%2528replica%2529-Museo_Arqueol%25C3%25B3gico_Nacional.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402036595120230146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; falta um passo. apenas.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; um pequeno e árctico passo para soltar o incêndio&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; para que ardas no vento sacro e passo a passo sejas hemorrágico &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; oásis e terminal.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;a chegada é submissa palha candura e banquete de falcões.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;apenas falta um passo.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; febril. e que seja sempre tarde a dor aos pedaços.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;e nunca mais&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;a radiação vulcânica de um beijo à porta.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;_____________________________&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;fundo e primitivo és &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; o interior de uma constelação de promessas.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;é véspera do destino. é sítio de domínio. é veneno maduramente mapa do fogo.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;obsessiva desordem dos afectos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;um passo. apenas. e amplio-te.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvfjOgvclXI/AAAAAAAAGYQ/LWVILSUZ_fI/s1600-h/serrotes1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 700px; height: 800px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvfjOgvclXI/AAAAAAAAGYQ/LWVILSUZ_fI/s400/serrotes1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402036116500813170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355033723597426995-8678157595869605352?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/8678157595869605352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/8678157595869605352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/11/falta-um-passo.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvfjqXvNTwI/AAAAAAAAGYY/JSzvvWOLc_Y/s72-c/Techo_de_Altamira_%2528replica%2529-Museo_Arqueol%25C3%25B3gico_Nacional.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-7309821333612718132</id><published>2009-11-08T08:57:00.008Z</published><updated>2009-11-08T11:56:08.986Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvaIUXQnpsI/AAAAAAAAGYI/qhtI1WDo_Mc/s1600-h/caverna11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 1069px; display: block; height: 452px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401654686499972802" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvaIUXQnpsI/AAAAAAAAGYI/qhtI1WDo_Mc/s400/caverna11.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;vi a mão. a tua mão cosida de rumores. antigos. escarpadas e cupulares de números e sinais. cicatriz feminina da diferença. fenda. mínima. um diálogo em forma de lira. alucinogénio. aliciante. de vícios. alucinantes. e   vi a mão. a tua. dissolvente. a que empurra a morte como quem desfaz o sono e dele se cola às paredes em quartzo rupestre em doce miopia em tempo obstinadamente de chumbo. vi a tua mão. às vezes resistente. outras veludo. sempre velozes na quietude que é dispersão. vi. e esse solo instável onde instalei a viagem fez-se de sangue. __________________como é falso o fluir e o fulgor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;como é longa a travessia ao longo do teu corpo. toda a plenitude é reclamável. insólita maturidade dos acasos. na tua mão suada. sudário. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvaIN7u7nnI/AAAAAAAAGYA/g3i-Nifckag/s1600-h/DSC_0065.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 688px; display: block; height: 268px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401654576031702642" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvaIN7u7nnI/AAAAAAAAGYA/g3i-Nifckag/s400/DSC_0065.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355033723597426995-7309821333612718132?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/7309821333612718132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/7309821333612718132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/11/vi-mao.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvaIUXQnpsI/AAAAAAAAGYI/qhtI1WDo_Mc/s72-c/caverna11.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-6328326983313901934</id><published>2009-11-07T01:05:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-11-07T01:40:16.368Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ft. imf'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvTIEoT1jhI/AAAAAAAAGXw/2_u0pbFij2M/s1600-h/Image0046.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 549px; height: 700px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvTIEoT1jhI/AAAAAAAAGXw/2_u0pbFij2M/s400/Image0046.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401161834989719058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;cintilante o tecido oculto que abre o texto transfigurador. palavras soltas como se um herbário fosse ao mesmo tempo cândido e vocação de ar. apenas o mistério de um deus cansado se faz à substância . resta a música. a música de um corpo alheio ao celeste. e a tua mão. a ser essência do orvalho.______________________desamparadamente sem anverso nem reverso. tecido interior de todo o tumulto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355033723597426995-6328326983313901934?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/6328326983313901934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/6328326983313901934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/11/cintilante-o-tecido-oculto-que-abre-o.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvTIEoT1jhI/AAAAAAAAGXw/2_u0pbFij2M/s72-c/Image0046.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-3313622609936055162</id><published>2009-11-06T07:37:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-11-06T07:53:08.686Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fts.imf'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvPSYGUHtSI/AAAAAAAAGXY/AqLXWjahQSY/s1600-h/IMGP0455.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 533px; height: 681px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvPSYGUHtSI/AAAAAAAAGXY/AqLXWjahQSY/s400/IMGP0455.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400891689601053986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;os momentos angelinos surgem como labirintos. clássicos. de Safo a Keats de Rilke a Lorca de Torga a Pessoa. ortónimos do fogo. sombria realidade. a do corpo cego. peregrinação de todas as quedas._________________é tão escasso o milagre do ritmo e da luz em ascese. e da asa. quebrada.que os anjos. sim esses teus ombros de anjo. depuram pelo excesso e fazem da distância bastarda o eco irradiante.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvPSgMCTKgI/AAAAAAAAGXg/Ke24M3fTkBg/s1600-h/IMGP0407.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 464px; height: 648px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvPSgMCTKgI/AAAAAAAAGXg/Ke24M3fTkBg/s400/IMGP0407.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400891828575873538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;respiração do teu verbo a ser alimento de espadas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvPSgMCTKgI/AAAAAAAAGXg/Ke24M3fTkBg/s1600-h/IMGP0407.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355033723597426995-3313622609936055162?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/3313622609936055162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/3313622609936055162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/11/os-momentos-angelinos-surgem-como.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvPSYGUHtSI/AAAAAAAAGXY/AqLXWjahQSY/s72-c/IMGP0455.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-923330019622528640</id><published>2009-11-05T00:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-11-05T00:45:59.292Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fts de imf'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvHkDLfladI/AAAAAAAAGXE/Sn1UsIwCG1o/s1600-h/Image0204.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 570px; height: 752px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvHkDLfladI/AAAAAAAAGXE/Sn1UsIwCG1o/s400/Image0204.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400348171469941202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;u&gt;procurei a porta que desse para o lado de lá do mundo.______________o afora.&lt;br /&gt;como se fora a ideia e o seu profético destino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;u&gt;eléctrico.&lt;br /&gt;um momento que fosse deus e pássaro rendido ao fogo. redenção.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvHkJjqF8uI/AAAAAAAAGXM/8tDAkAcFUIE/s1600-h/Image0178.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 643px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvHkJjqF8uI/AAAAAAAAGXM/8tDAkAcFUIE/s400/Image0178.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400348281035682530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;u&gt;mas difícil é ser-se plano__________planície e jovem na rasura dos desertos onde a fonte é cal.ardente. metálica e oral . escala de ardências.&lt;br /&gt;nudez e  evidência. transições turvas de uma solidão próxima e lírica .&lt;br /&gt;albergue dos cardos e sombra da luz. eléctrica a demolição dos contrários.&lt;br /&gt;anarquia dos quatro cantos do mundo em cânticos de abutres que morrem. desossados. fascinante ciclo musical de uma realidade inrespirável.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;e a porta fechada.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;em declive nocturno do que apenas  é intuível.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvHj9KEjdeI/AAAAAAAAGW8/1lkBMg_Cd2w/s1600-h/Image0113.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 839px; height: 665px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvHj9KEjdeI/AAAAAAAAGW8/1lkBMg_Cd2w/s400/Image0113.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400348068008916450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;um momento que fosse porta____aberta. musculada e imponente.&lt;br /&gt;faro sangrante dos dias futuros. pulmão inchado de sol. opulento.&lt;br /&gt;&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/2355033723597426995-923330019622528640?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/923330019622528640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/923330019622528640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/11/procurei-porta-que-desse-para-o-lado-de.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvHkDLfladI/AAAAAAAAGXE/Sn1UsIwCG1o/s72-c/Image0204.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-7457559826750668100</id><published>2009-11-04T10:26:00.006Z</published><updated>2009-11-06T08:55:46.693Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='obrigada Graça....(Teatrices) e Ana Oliveira..(Paço das Artes)'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvPkOiwiWXI/AAAAAAAAGXo/jvM-R5CydWQ/s1600-h/21032008202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 671px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvPkOiwiWXI/AAAAAAAAGXo/jvM-R5CydWQ/s400/21032008202.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400911316647041394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;deixei de entender a desmesura da tua adolescência. excessiva. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;incógnita lin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ha de fibras coração de faúlhas. carta de marear sem mar nem porto de abrigo.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;brilhas no escuro de uma sala visionária onde te faço menino e cometa homem e autor de uma estrófe em desassossego. deixei de ser a vida inteira para te ser velocidade e metamorfose.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;onde me prendes ao renascimento. longuíssimamente sal e abismo. dos teus olhos excessivos.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;aves da penumbra. aves em fuga. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;côncavas as águas onde nos afundas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvF3ClQQn7I/AAAAAAAAGWs/oA8Xfg7JplI/s1600-h/Image2+vac.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 700px; height: 672px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvF3ClQQn7I/AAAAAAAAGWs/oA8Xfg7JplI/s400/Image2+vac.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400228314437689266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355033723597426995-7457559826750668100?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/7457559826750668100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/7457559826750668100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/11/deixei-de-entender-desmesura-da-tua.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvPkOiwiWXI/AAAAAAAAGXo/jvM-R5CydWQ/s72-c/21032008202.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-236811429119890039</id><published>2009-11-03T11:38:00.005Z</published><updated>2009-11-03T12:57:48.187Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvAWP8QcdyI/AAAAAAAAGV8/sEhKGhqENT0/s1600-h/901752_170460_00fdfb0b8c_p.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399840416346175266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 700px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 685px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvAWP8QcdyI/AAAAAAAAGV8/sEhKGhqENT0/s400/901752_170460_00fdfb0b8c_p.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;como um signo da via lacteal bem adentro das mãos. percorro-te o diante de nós como influxo. eco. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;convoco-te um cordeiro e uma flor. tudo muito pastoril. tudo muito ajoeirado no tempo. emergência do sagrado e gesto descalço. lá fora é só devoração.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;____________era uma vez o eco. antiquíssimo. passagem vertiginosa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;convoco-te. lenda e planalto. desígnio solidário. duas mãos e um abraço.&lt;br /&gt;&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/2355033723597426995-236811429119890039?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/236811429119890039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/236811429119890039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/11/como-um-signo-da-via-lacteal-bem.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SvAWP8QcdyI/AAAAAAAAGV8/sEhKGhqENT0/s72-c/901752_170460_00fdfb0b8c_p.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-6684467255495135973</id><published>2009-11-02T09:31:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-11-02T10:01:42.107Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Su6m_xVrzEI/AAAAAAAAGVs/DKVVwoQzeR8/s1600-h/Vit%C3%B3ria+de+Samotr%C3%A1cia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 369px; height: 800px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Su6m_xVrzEI/AAAAAAAAGVs/DKVVwoQzeR8/s400/Vit%C3%B3ria+de+Samotr%C3%A1cia.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399436617770060866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;suponho que nada é lugar. nem o chão. antes o deslumbre.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;antes a casa. interrogante.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;antes este assombro de fim de asas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;a subtileza pode ter a mobilidade da névoa.e ser&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;júbilo do límpido.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ao alto. de onde me és entranha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;inflorescente o recato das imagens. ouvintes atentos. biógrafos da música e do tempo que foi outro nunca sendo este onde te faço flor. e tronco.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;imaginoso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;só imaginável&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&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/2355033723597426995-6684467255495135973?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/6684467255495135973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/6684467255495135973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Su6m_xVrzEI/AAAAAAAAGVs/DKVVwoQzeR8/s72-c/Vit%C3%B3ria+de+Samotr%C3%A1cia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-4193577718642766105</id><published>2009-10-31T22:35:00.005Z</published><updated>2009-11-01T21:20:05.428Z</updated><title type='text'>suave implosão_____________</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;nem da memória preciso para te regressar_________sem drama nem vento.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-weight: bold;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Suy8KdnwHmI/AAAAAAAAGUc/SypUHJM9ugI/s1600-h/IMG_0064.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 424px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Suy8KdnwHmI/AAAAAAAAGUc/SypUHJM9ugI/s400/IMG_0064.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398896941246455394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dispiciendo o sal entre a cura dos beijos e o assalto inseparável dos lábios em curva. de recados.&lt;br /&gt;ociosa reprodução da fé nos crisântemos. oratória divina das lajes.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;somos carne e devir. ausência dormente . inconsoláveis  fetos ou cães abandonados.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;a carta que não escrevo é um encarte narrativo a devorar encontros e possibilidades.a morte em suspenso. suspensão do tempo. o teu ventre a ser terra. e o  texto é só poeira. onde estendo o que já foi competência da palavra.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;desobedeço-te em memória das lágrimas. desapossadamente. o teu destino foi seres  dor  serena&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;e confissão  resistência e fogo. tímida algema. e sepulcro.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;com destinatário certeiro sorvo-te a serena cegueira eficaz e voluntária. é um manto. de &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;renda. de cardos. é uma capa. é fraga e teoria disciplinada. arco e astenia__________afluentes radicais de uma falsa poética. fatia de poucos ais em metódico desalinho.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;é só a memória. inegável. e dia de secar todos os rios. e nó. que te desato. infinitamente laço. pergunta sem resposta. espaço. espaço.te . o que és em pensamento____________implosão sim. de ternura. suave. dedo impositivo. falo de ti. in.revelando-me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SuzB0LG_P1I/AAAAAAAAGUk/-3yLjc9HIrE/s1600-h/IMG_0065_2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 700px; height: 700px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SuzB0LG_P1I/AAAAAAAAGUk/-3yLjc9HIrE/s400/IMG_0065_2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398903155389841234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355033723597426995-4193577718642766105?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/4193577718642766105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/4193577718642766105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/10/suave-implosao.html' title='suave implosão_____________'/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Suy8KdnwHmI/AAAAAAAAGUc/SypUHJM9ugI/s72-c/IMG_0064.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-2538443736424477202</id><published>2009-10-28T08:22:00.006Z</published><updated>2009-10-29T11:30:48.278Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ftos de mjq'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Sul7srobZ1I/AAAAAAAAGUU/DaUjMCacyXo/s1600-h/P3090263....jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 667px; height: 411px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Sul7srobZ1I/AAAAAAAAGUU/DaUjMCacyXo/s400/P3090263....jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397981635937003346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Suf_rhTOAcI/AAAAAAAAGUM/M34xxLAUFC4/s1600-h/P3100848..jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 800px; height: 531px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Suf_rhTOAcI/AAAAAAAAGUM/M34xxLAUFC4/s400/P3100848..jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397563801565266370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Suf_S3Uyk2I/AAAAAAAAGUE/98EJ57XTZjE/s1600-h/PA180532.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 800px; height: 700px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Suf_S3Uyk2I/AAAAAAAAGUE/98EJ57XTZjE/s400/PA180532.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397563377980707682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ardente o destino de ler acima de um lugar inconcreto. são dias mansos como fundas são as águas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;um pé oscilante e um corpo mensageiro do sal.  o prumo e o relógio. relação pouco verbal  no ensaio a favor do tempo. são poucos os papéis que resistem à grafia dos detalhes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;resta a memória dos fragmentos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;idade e  fulgor recato e dissemelhança.&lt;br /&gt;___________aventura maior de ser ramo e fluxo constante._________jogo. jogo&lt;br /&gt;de palavras migratórias. e assim te.nos deslaço de um aparente rigor cumprida que foi a invocação dos elos mais breves. exílios e frutos. como pétalas a serem arvoredo.&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/2355033723597426995-2538443736424477202?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/2538443736424477202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/2538443736424477202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/10/ardente-o-destino-de-ler-acima-de-um.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Sul7srobZ1I/AAAAAAAAGUU/DaUjMCacyXo/s72-c/P3090263....jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-2594754899365199086</id><published>2009-10-27T08:31:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-10-27T09:03:11.893Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SuawS_4BrEI/AAAAAAAAGTk/mkPGlon0J50/s1600-h/procaccini2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 479px; height: 800px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SuawS_4BrEI/AAAAAAAAGTk/mkPGlon0J50/s400/procaccini2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397195043880676418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;se o contraste não é contradição nem a diversidade incoerência elejo a escrita.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;veemente silêncio que dialectiza o eu e a coisa. metáfora e não imagem.&lt;br /&gt;provocação. discurso da estética e confronto da alma.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;somos pois suaves e incessantes esforços . às vezes desistentes. do fulgor de in.secar a emoção.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ao outro dia voamos de novo. presas de um elenco que seja fonte.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;a liquidez do sentimento&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SuayaSewxsI/AAAAAAAAGTs/FIknQ4Gxdb4/s1600-h/rape_lucretia_hi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 480px; height: 600px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SuayaSewxsI/AAAAAAAAGTs/FIknQ4Gxdb4/s400/rape_lucretia_hi.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397197368157324994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;o perfume de um fogo brando a estalar  . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;como gesto enxuto a resguardar o sangue da traição.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ciclo imortal pérfido e álgido onde nunca nada é permanência mas sim erosão.  infiltrada no delírio de recriar a vida. esta que nos diferencia e mata. dentes de neve em vibrações de faca.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355033723597426995-2594754899365199086?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/2594754899365199086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/2594754899365199086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/10/se-o-contraste-nao-e-contradicao-nem.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SuawS_4BrEI/AAAAAAAAGTk/mkPGlon0J50/s72-c/procaccini2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-249584577415839516</id><published>2009-10-25T20:25:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-10-25T21:02:46.768Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SuS0ZCONexI/AAAAAAAAGTU/HJT1EhwG36M/s1600-h/11092009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 800px; height: 700px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SuS0ZCONexI/AAAAAAAAGTU/HJT1EhwG36M/s400/11092009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396636595682900754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;de tanta névoa. como desvanecidos momentos. se é constante no efémero. insuflada a alma inscreve-se alma entre os ramos que se partem e as ondas que regressam. como poeira sequencial de um desejo de eternidade. se pudesse converter em éter a respiração da memória&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;venceria enfim a planura de uma certa solidão. que sendo mais dilatada que o deserto é difusa e consciente.  investida de inexactos momentos vou e re.volto e traço e alargo o lugar que em nada acrescenta ao tempo. acrescentando-te sempre. de um modo quase incompreensível até para a névoa que tanto é texto do afecto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355033723597426995-249584577415839516?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/249584577415839516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/249584577415839516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/10/de-tanta-nevoa.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SuS0ZCONexI/AAAAAAAAGTU/HJT1EhwG36M/s72-c/11092009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-1295602232547140381</id><published>2009-10-24T06:33:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T11:28:54.681+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SuKRx-g1xcI/AAAAAAAAGS8/m69iRUTBgbE/s1600-h/red+apple+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 468px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SuKRx-g1xcI/AAAAAAAAGS8/m69iRUTBgbE/s400/red+apple+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396035591323633090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;já não se amanhece à sombra dos frutos ________tudo é refúgio e mutilante. como  as antíteses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;e os amargos as explosões e os trevos falsos.&lt;br /&gt;cartilagem polar dos ombros que um dia foram polpa e no outro sangria.______________________amanhecemos como alcateias à sombra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;mamífera de um pulmão andrógino. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;intriga-me esta ceia de leite e de sangue onde  o  extravagante é júbilo e o coração apenas pele.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;seca. áspera. já só osso e espinho._________________holograma perfurante.&lt;br /&gt;inconfidente sinónimo de arquejos flamejantes que se fosse ária seria precioso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;excesso de mortalhas. os frutos. os frutos refulgentes que nos furtam qualquer amanhecer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355033723597426995-1295602232547140381?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/1295602232547140381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/1295602232547140381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/10/ja-nao-se-amanhece-sombra-dos-frutos.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SuKRx-g1xcI/AAAAAAAAGS8/m69iRUTBgbE/s72-c/red+apple+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-2044698204453132586</id><published>2009-10-21T07:59:00.008+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T07:01:40.224+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/St6yTp0XPNI/AAAAAAAAGSk/QkA17p91Muw/s1600-h/INUTIL_flyer_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 284px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/St6yTp0XPNI/AAAAAAAAGSk/QkA17p91Muw/s400/INUTIL_flyer_1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394945454349171922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/St6x4DJ1JQI/AAAAAAAAGSc/PdgpZbA4FTI/s1600-h/colaboradores%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 399px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/St6x4DJ1JQI/AAAAAAAAGSc/PdgpZbA4FTI/s400/colaboradores%5B1%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394944980113761538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/St6xn2TDJPI/AAAAAAAAGSU/o1R3xMXhxEI/s1600-h/7IRA.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 639px; height: 287px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/St6xn2TDJPI/AAAAAAAAGSU/o1R3xMXhxEI/s400/7IRA.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394944701784859890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I NÚ T I L&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(útil o verbo do caos a sobrevoar o chão dos deuses em fragmentos desvelados.reveladores da névoa e &lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;dos enigmas. como sementes oficinais) será a Ira  um movimento apócrifo contra o tempo&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;inimplorável?&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;é a INÚTIL_________________verbo interpretativo de todos os contrários.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355033723597426995-2044698204453132586?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/2044698204453132586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/2044698204453132586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-nu-t-i-l.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/St6yTp0XPNI/AAAAAAAAGSk/QkA17p91Muw/s72-c/INUTIL_flyer_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-3718387204537274854</id><published>2009-10-19T09:05:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T15:37:50.169+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fts de Paulo Neto'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/StwhruZ2GQI/AAAAAAAAGSM/26tJUqDUiUk/s1600-h/clau.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 700px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 567px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394223488757537026" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/StwhruZ2GQI/AAAAAAAAGSM/26tJUqDUiUk/s400/clau.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;todo o afluente é um insepulto rumor. como se por dentro da música habitassem enigmáticos espelhos. eles próprios autores e actores da utopia. a vida inteira na provocante metáfora de um mar inseguro._________literal insolência de navegar acima das margens. dentro da voz. perto das sombras. ao lado do indecifrável. como carne de um poema de contrastes.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;retrato da mudez do &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;abandono. o poço e o eco. ____________rasura de um paraíso. todo o afluente é um pássaro virtual a caminho da morte.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Stwhei6w99I/AAAAAAAAGSE/w7vA8qqeWVg/s1600-h/tec.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 700px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 504px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394223262336088018" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Stwhei6w99I/AAAAAAAAGSE/w7vA8qqeWVg/s400/tec.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355033723597426995-3718387204537274854?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/3718387204537274854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/3718387204537274854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/10/todo-o-afluente-e-um-insepulto-rumor.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/StwhruZ2GQI/AAAAAAAAGSM/26tJUqDUiUk/s72-c/clau.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-7486572874308819254</id><published>2009-10-17T11:09:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T11:26:22.299+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/StmYHybWqYI/AAAAAAAAGRc/Q0REsQVr084/s1600-h/Deedee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 633px; height: 245px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/StmYHybWqYI/AAAAAAAAGRc/Q0REsQVr084/s400/Deedee.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393509288315890050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"cada palavra falada nos trai. A única comunicação tolerável é a palavra escrita, porque não é uma pedra em uma ponte entre almas, mas um raio de uma luz entre &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;astros." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Fernando Pessoa in o Livro do Desassossego.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/StmZddVYknI/AAAAAAAAGRk/zeIHL5DrtfY/s1600-h/Keiko+Guest.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 514px; height: 700px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/StmZddVYknI/AAAAAAAAGRk/zeIHL5DrtfY/s400/Keiko+Guest.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393510760122454642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;nada é então espelho. ou reconhecimento de um padrão original. repetem-se gestos. e tristes ficamos na  clausura de um anel constrangido de plumas artificiais. voar é um golpe de estrelas. imatéricas.  só não penso na ausência porque sou mais que ela.&lt;/span&gt;........................................................................................&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;.imf&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/StmZddVYknI/AAAAAAAAGRk/zeIHL5DrtfY/s1600-h/Keiko+Guest.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355033723597426995-7486572874308819254?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/7486572874308819254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/7486572874308819254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/10/cada-palavra-falada-nos-trai.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/StmYHybWqYI/AAAAAAAAGRc/Q0REsQVr084/s72-c/Deedee.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-8628506999993418704</id><published>2009-10-15T09:31:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T10:09:41.364+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/StbeVTpvtKI/AAAAAAAAGRE/B9Sc1GYgdZI/s1600-h/205.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392742061456733346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 522px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/StbeVTpvtKI/AAAAAAAAGRE/B9Sc1GYgdZI/s400/205.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; por exemplo o grande ritmo do olhar é uma mancha legível ou uma espécie de trevas. uma reflexão de retornos ou o desprendimento do corpo que envelhece na púrpura metamorfose do silêncio móvel. ser a restante realidade da mensagem em ajuste de contas com a contagem do tempo. fecundo o domínio que se exerce à sombra do medo absorvente. invasor. e na ironia dos afectos escravos descrevo-te a severa inatenção do precário.________sendo mais que um desfecho de luz. sendo o convívio do pensamento vidente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392751084206893714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 681px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 153px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/StbmigBBKpI/AAAAAAAAGRM/Uo9nfibIW_U/s400/205.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355033723597426995-8628506999993418704?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/8628506999993418704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/8628506999993418704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/10/por-exemplo-o-grande-ritmo-do-olhar-e.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/StbeVTpvtKI/AAAAAAAAGRE/B9Sc1GYgdZI/s72-c/205.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-5146775309830872935</id><published>2009-10-13T09:09:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T09:31:00.800+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ft de excertos do olhar....Mié....obrigada....e flor de Luisa Azevedo'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/StQ19tqEyTI/AAAAAAAAGQE/p7LhHJAjdPM/s1600-h/DSC01905aaab.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 759px; height: 800px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/StQ19tqEyTI/AAAAAAAAGQE/p7LhHJAjdPM/s400/DSC01905aaab.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391993988213688626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;__________________admito que o fogo é perda e a vida um elo vibrante. faço &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;do silêncio a tua acutilância e um errante deslumbre. como se tudo existisse e apenas fosse inclinação do afecto caligráfico. tempo de desnublar o alfabeto mátreo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/StWIXAmsQkI/AAAAAAAAGQc/btJ2Sf7JoA0/s1600-h/pin_artes36.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 757px; height: 679px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/StWIXAmsQkI/AAAAAAAAGQc/btJ2Sf7JoA0/s400/pin_artes36.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392366057726689858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;tempo de abrir o simbólico suave e dilacerante . exógeno mistério da leitura da consciência. porta de labirintos que somos importa mais o paradoxal que a indiferença de uma parte sem o todo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;por definição a lógica é uma identidade sem duplos . mas somos sempre o sentido múltiplo que em supremo desvelo imerecemos na palavra tumular. mais longe a escrita pode ser implacável e agonizar aos pés de uma porta. fechada.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;tempo de ficções. únicas e in.dialogantes no pânico de reabrir fronteiras.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355033723597426995-5146775309830872935?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/5146775309830872935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/5146775309830872935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/10/admito-que-o-fogo-e-perda-e-vida-um-elo.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/StQ19tqEyTI/AAAAAAAAGQE/p7LhHJAjdPM/s72-c/DSC01905aaab.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-7357829418634740917</id><published>2009-10-08T10:01:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T11:18:54.712+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ft de Paulo Neto'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Ss23Zz6lfzI/AAAAAAAAGPs/DVmfCbWEXR4/s1600-h/rendezvous.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 773px; height: 800px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Ss23Zz6lfzI/AAAAAAAAGPs/DVmfCbWEXR4/s400/rendezvous.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390165983092899634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SsIa5kdvGuI/AAAAAAAAGPM/cSIFKRKanz4/s1600-h/av9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 768px; height: 700px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SsIa5kdvGuI/AAAAAAAAGPM/cSIFKRKanz4/s400/av9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386897680631798498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SrEv3SZPmAI/AAAAAAAAGOs/f-5Q_rmJbkg/s1600-h/mailde+li.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;de antes veio o tecido do fim. como precioso vento vagueante.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;____________________________________________.como se fora a pele da des.comunicação rasgada que foi a fragrância da morte aparente. rebentação clássica dos destroços.  é uma vaga que incha e frequenta lugares sem musas nem artes exsudadas.  a exactidão das coisas é ambígua e desloca-se no texto líquido. resguardo de vísceras que a ninguém faz de lençol.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355033723597426995-7357829418634740917?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/7357829418634740917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/7357829418634740917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/09/de-antes-veio-o-tecido-do-fim.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Ss23Zz6lfzI/AAAAAAAAGPs/DVmfCbWEXR4/s72-c/rendezvous.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-1164635335641757163</id><published>2009-08-10T09:44:00.010+01:00</published><updated>2009-09-15T10:19:28.468+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='de Paulo Neto.'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Sn_eY21ztXI/AAAAAAAAGNs/dAMKHbF3dB0/s1600-h/fa1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368253799468348786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 700px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 648px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Sn_eY21ztXI/AAAAAAAAGNs/dAMKHbF3dB0/s400/fa1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;a rasar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;(_______o ofício do silêncio_______________________),&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;(_____combustível da luz______________________________).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368258106950948066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 380px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Sn_iTldsFOI/AAAAAAAAGN8/9h6nzza0QL0/s400/farcada1.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;(estavam as letras os fios os muros o círculo as mãos o espelho . os anjos as glicínias os lobos os demónios a tela a música a obra ao negro ao rubro . rubor de calcário . de estrada . luminoso . o raio . a espada . pedaço de terra . mágica . os cetáceos a vegetação a ravina do teu peito . suspenso . incompreensível deleite do desejo e do divino . estavam os verbos . as metáforas . e nenhum ponto final . na paisagem anfíbia do teu ventre redondo . de abandono .&lt;br /&gt;sinal aberto de vertigem .sinal de silêncio. de gato. a rasar este ofício) .&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;II.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;um compasso de voz frugal navega entre os espasmos que serão gesso e esquecimento.sabendo que nada é estanque invoco a renúncia das mãos. tudo é derrame e pouco sobra dos escombros. a vida é fogueira e casa de estátuas. errado o salto sobre o abismo em formato de névoa são os sentidos que isolam as pedras e as resumem a pó.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;III.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e deixo flores. que do deserto são luz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369380634218396914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 700px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 600px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SoPfPRZy_PI/AAAAAAAAGOM/R7dHzKZ2Tb0/s400/2005-06-19%25200061.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;. a voracidade dos ramos determina o caminho da excepção. e se a escrita pode ser profética que se alisem as sílabas no encontro dos significados. só quem se "avirtua" sem ácidos nem óxidos pode entender o lado brilhante do outro lado da montanha.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355033723597426995-1164635335641757163?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/1164635335641757163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/1164635335641757163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/08/blog-post_10.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Sn_eY21ztXI/AAAAAAAAGNs/dAMKHbF3dB0/s72-c/fa1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-8760518198746355743</id><published>2009-08-08T14:48:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T13:37:33.039+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ft.roubada do abrupto...'/><title type='text'>Raul Solnado_____do laboratório do hu(amor)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Sn7CGuj9QiI/AAAAAAAAGNU/pi78Ti930ok/s1600-h/iapetus3_cassini_big.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367941226706059810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 700px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 600px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Sn7CGuj9QiI/AAAAAAAAGNU/pi78Ti930ok/s400/iapetus3_cassini_big.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; no espaço largo e íngreme só não se afunda a memória.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Sn2CRUYrtVI/AAAAAAAAGMU/7iiBZlM5Ov4/s1600-h/080324_RAUL_SOLNADO.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367589564937123154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 500px; HEIGHT: 700px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Sn2CRUYrtVI/AAAAAAAAGMU/7iiBZlM5Ov4/s400/080324_RAUL_SOLNADO.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;as mãos que falavam dentro da voz o gesto que foi tempo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367589889656595698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Sn2CkOD1pPI/AAAAAAAAGMc/ZWH9Xock0-c/s400/6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e assim se foi "vavadiando". na incidência do génio. estrela com rastro de generosidade._________até sempre Raul.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;obrigada._______curvo-me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355033723597426995-8760518198746355743?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/8760518198746355743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/8760518198746355743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/08/raul-solnadodo-laboratorio-do-huamor.html' title='Raul Solnado_____do laboratório do hu(amor)'/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Sn7CGuj9QiI/AAAAAAAAGNU/pi78Ti930ok/s72-c/iapetus3_cassini_big.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-5837593102209235390</id><published>2009-08-06T11:36:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T18:09:54.395+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ft de Mié. e de Luisa Vale.(entrada de Paulo Neto)'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SnqzcE3-DUI/AAAAAAAAGME/x6Cx8YTUKOs/s1600-h/291163200000.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366799200891571522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 468px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 800px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SnqzcE3-DUI/AAAAAAAAGME/x6Cx8YTUKOs/s400/291163200000.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Snqyl9L0DII/AAAAAAAAGL8/O5WaYkqHKRA/s1600-h/1c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366798271114382466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 758px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 800px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Snqyl9L0DII/AAAAAAAAGL8/O5WaYkqHKRA/s400/1c.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;um dia a vida entra por um fio. e tudo o que era legítimo passa a síntese. in.concreta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;_____________.__________________.________&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;e no espaço íngreme onde nos prendemos resta o sorriso que fecha a matéria e abre o lírico. um dia a vida é um luxo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355033723597426995-5837593102209235390?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/5837593102209235390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/5837593102209235390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/08/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SnqzcE3-DUI/AAAAAAAAGME/x6Cx8YTUKOs/s72-c/291163200000.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-5830705379268835738</id><published>2009-08-05T18:26:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T19:29:18.274+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SnnA4GaQIZI/AAAAAAAAGL0/I-NX_lysNQ0/s1600-h/xico1_003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366532501014585746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 800px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 477px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SnnA4GaQIZI/AAAAAAAAGL0/I-NX_lysNQ0/s400/xico1_003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; do império do simbolismo: escorregam os dedos entre dourados sossegos. séculos de selva podem ser sonetos ao serviço de um olhar. que a linha é uma lenda entre o alecrim e a manjerona. viagem de coração descendente sempre tão perto do álgido e do silêncio. o resto do tempo é este movimento. lírico descanso e falsa nudez.___________à beira-tarde tudo se atarda e a vida vale o que foi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355033723597426995-5830705379268835738?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/5830705379268835738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/5830705379268835738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/08/do-imperio-do-simbolismo-escorregam-me.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SnnA4GaQIZI/AAAAAAAAGL0/I-NX_lysNQ0/s72-c/xico1_003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2355033723597426995.post-7889569710257530850</id><published>2009-08-02T18:27:00.015+01:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T10:11:36.759+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ft de mariab (espessahumanidade.blogspot.com)e de anjomarginal.blogspot.com'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;fractura esgotada de ceifas.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SnXNqt4T2SI/AAAAAAAAGKw/ZVVBbgiDXLc/s1600-h/IMG_2677mod.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365420664835791138" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; height: 276px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SnXNqt4T2SI/AAAAAAAAGKw/ZVVBbgiDXLc/s400/IMG_2677mod.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; interlúdio de um ouro simples.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SnXM4NkmizI/AAAAAAAAGKo/tQCuPi0uCfU/s1600-h/IMG_2677mod.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365419797169736498" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 800px; height: 376px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SnXM4NkmizI/AAAAAAAAGKo/tQCuPi0uCfU/s400/IMG_2677mod.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt; a área dos sentidos é toda ela líquida. simbólica. foice do mundo. cadente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365420931377514354" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 668px; height: 276px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SnXN6O0zx3I/AAAAAAAAGK4/rLz09NqiLdA/s400/IMG_2677mod.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;as imagens despojam-se. imparáveis e heterónimas. presença que se "interregna" como ponto final. ardência a consubstanciar a margem que acolhe todos os segredos. no parto belíssimo das águas que imitam a natureza. lá fora a matéria é fúlgida e estilhaça a palavra.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365793271396781138" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 566px; height: 800px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SncgjRfJTFI/AAAAAAAAGLY/ydWlW4vPpSk/s400/IMG_0059Bcopy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(aqui o tempo não é de temporais nem de horas ardidas. imprevista passagem sobre os opostos como focos ou aranhas. tempo de um renque de dentes a ser planície. tempo de águas mais perto dos contrários. aqui se expande a ilusão de um diálogo falsamente febril.)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Snc6LzzjylI/AAAAAAAAGLg/ABxkkQy9dSw/s1600-h/P6210429.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365821455594670674" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right; width: 400px; height: 300px;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/Snc6LzzjylI/AAAAAAAAGLg/ABxkkQy9dSw/s400/P6210429.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;[espelho de flor. semântica cintilante]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;o pós ou o póstumo?__________ou apenas códigos semióticos? a tradição é sempre o que nos rodeia. como água no ventre.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SnlDDeg_5SI/AAAAAAAAGLo/lFaWJUawJBw/s1600-h/collage6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 649px; height: 332px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SnlDDeg_5SI/AAAAAAAAGLo/lFaWJUawJBw/s400/collage6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366394157998794018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;.incomplacente aventura  do degelo sobre as águas . minúcia do recato que se pretende mais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;filho &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; das entranhas.refiro-me às pérolas que as páginas queimam. pescadores dos cabelos da ira subterrânea em vibráteis ondulações de espuma bárbara. explosão do silêncio. como ilha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2355033723597426995-7889569710257530850?l=mendesferreira.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/7889569710257530850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2355033723597426995/posts/default/7889569710257530850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mendesferreira.blogspot.com/2009/08/fractura-esgotada-de-ceifas.html' title=''/><author><name>isabel mendes ferreira</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13800902942614683031</uri><email>belafer2@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='05583612251882604175'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JhQ2-6IprkY/SnXNqt4T2SI/AAAAAAAAGKw/ZVVBbgiDXLc/s72-c/IMG_2677mod.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry></feed>