<?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-7337992970873723208</id><updated>2011-11-27T16:29:23.182-08:00</updated><title type='text'>POETA DO SUBÚRBIO</title><subtitle type='html'>destinado a todos aqueles que gostam de um boa literatura e principalmente de poemas</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-1039994110830273174</id><published>2010-04-10T02:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-10T02:49:17.338-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Ferida</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A Ferida &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A ferida que abrimos no mundo está necrosando!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E nós, seres pensantes somos a cada dia somos mais vermes sociais,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Somos cada dia mais o que buscamos nos tonar deuses de um vazio!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nessa galáxia perdida acho que nós e que somos os alienígenas,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Os simplesmente cosmos em evolução,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mas nossa evolução apodrece junto com a ferida que necrosa.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Talvez, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Se o amor que temos não fosse dado como lavagem aos porcos,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Beberíamos mais vezes o vinho da vida &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E entenderíamos o sentido da sabedoria.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Para os que sofrem o mundo é uma tragédia, para os que penam é uma grande comédia"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eriberto Henrique 22/01/2010 &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337992970873723208-1039994110830273174?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/1039994110830273174/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2010/04/ferida.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/1039994110830273174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/1039994110830273174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2010/04/ferida.html' title='A Ferida'/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-3301343502316982468</id><published>2010-02-09T12:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T12:22:59.764-08:00</updated><title type='text'>TRECHO DO LIVRO GRANDES HOMENS CONSTREM SEU DESTINO QUE FALA DE MINHA VIDA COMO MILITAR</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Longe de casa eu ficava flutuando em pensamentos, levando por diversas vezes pela imaginação, que na situação que me encontrava parecia mais sagaz. Nuvens negras infetavam os céus do Haiti, a saudade de minha mãe e de todos que amava só fazia aumentar, o meu desabafo era em poemas, já os dos meus companheiros eram em todos os tipos de roedeiras, lágrimas diante de retratos (fotografias), latas de cerveja, músicas bregas e românticas, jogos eletrônicos e o vício da internet, que parecia nos consumir ou nos distanciar da realidade. Perdidos em um universo onde a fraqueza humana era decoração de abismo profundo, sentíamos sede de sangue e fome carniça.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Calma meus leitores o Haiti não é o pior lugar do mundo, mas está bem perto disso. Uma terra esquecida pela verdade, um ponto do mundo onde o sorriso de uma criança é mais belo que em qualquer lugar, pois diante da miséria se torna raro. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337992970873723208-3301343502316982468?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/3301343502316982468/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2010/02/trecho-do-livro-grandes-homens-constrem.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/3301343502316982468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/3301343502316982468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2010/02/trecho-do-livro-grandes-homens-constrem.html' title='TRECHO DO LIVRO GRANDES HOMENS CONSTREM SEU DESTINO QUE FALA DE MINHA VIDA COMO MILITAR'/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-4830863672458406940</id><published>2010-02-09T11:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T11:48:20.294-08:00</updated><title type='text'>TRECHO DO LIVRINHO  CORAÇÃO INFLAMADO</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Carmem era como um anjo, desses que Deus coloca em nosso caminho, com a mais doce sabedoria! Uma jovem bela e inteligente, que sabe encontrar nobreza nas pessoas; amante da vida cultivava uma esperança majestosa, que às vezes era esquecida, por injustiças que infelizmente muitos tendem a sofrer. Carmem diferente de Fernando via o amor de uma maneira fria, não se deixava levar por paixões, sendo enérgica com seus sentimentos, que faziam questão de deixá-los reprimidos, talvez por receio de amar ou medo de sofrer. Por ter uma beleza natural e singela, se sentia às vezes não vista pelos homens, que na maioria das vezes, buscam a beleza mecanizada, idolatrada pela mídia e pela televisão.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Eriberto Henrique &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337992970873723208-4830863672458406940?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/4830863672458406940/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2010/02/trecho-do-livrinho-coracao-inflamado.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/4830863672458406940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/4830863672458406940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2010/02/trecho-do-livrinho-coracao-inflamado.html' title='TRECHO DO LIVRINHO  CORAÇÃO INFLAMADO'/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-6753827665510954189</id><published>2010-02-09T11:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T11:42:27.058-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Trecho do meu livrinho Lembranças De Um Carnaval</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;O sol raiou ao som dos clarins naquela manhã! Ruas enfeitadas e muitas pessoas esbanjando fantasias, mostrando que a criatividade pernambucana era magnífica, na radio as músicas de Capiba, Duda, Nelson Ferreira e muitos outros compositores tocavam sem parar; e a vinheta da rádio dizia “Pernambuco falando para o mundo”. Já eu que nem me importava com o carnaval, que para mim era um dia comum; vi no olhar de uma jovem, uma razão para sorrir. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;O dia seguia o mesmo ritmo de dias anteriores, e eu não conseguia deixar de pensar em outra coisa a não ser na deusa que tinha visto. Queria saber de onde ela era e o que estava fazendo ali; minha curiosidade era dona dos meus pensamentos e me fazia voar em possibilidades. A tarde anunciou-se preguiçosa, após o almoço fui ao quintal desenhar, e lá estava ela, ainda mais radiante, como uma flor na primavera que a cada raio de sol ganha uma tonalidade diferente. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337992970873723208-6753827665510954189?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/6753827665510954189/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2010/02/trecho-do-meu-livrinho-lembrancas-de-um.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/6753827665510954189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/6753827665510954189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2010/02/trecho-do-meu-livrinho-lembrancas-de-um.html' title='Trecho do meu livrinho Lembranças De Um Carnaval'/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-2486900403637855616</id><published>2009-11-22T08:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T08:29:50.827-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Delirando&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trancado em uma laje escura &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sem ver sua triste figura,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um homem convive com a morte!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abandonado pela sua alegria,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fugindo de uma tal melancolia,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Busca o apoio da sorte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Sem ter mais o que pensar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Passa os dias a delirar,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Sonhando com o fim desse terror!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Biritando uma amarga tristeza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Banhada de sangue com frieza,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Ele chora de saudades do amor!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Dedicado A Maria Selma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Eriberto Henrique 18/08/2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/Swlm2nv3ZPI/AAAAAAAAAIc/_XsZMNICbUc/s1600/OgAAAMdf9HZDCUJBTWifaSuhP9T91hJCL0_qTMoqdx1YjGL7semfQejpUbs75xTXZU0c7GPJfEbKvjAUdok14U6EXGgAm1T1UD7IUhz3nZlHkIoGegho-yIgSdRV.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/Swlm2nv3ZPI/AAAAAAAAAIc/_XsZMNICbUc/s320/OgAAAMdf9HZDCUJBTWifaSuhP9T91hJCL0_qTMoqdx1YjGL7semfQejpUbs75xTXZU0c7GPJfEbKvjAUdok14U6EXGgAm1T1UD7IUhz3nZlHkIoGegho-yIgSdRV.jpg" yr="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/7337992970873723208-2486900403637855616?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/2486900403637855616/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/11/delirando-trancado-em-uma-laje-escura.html#comment-form' title='3 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/2486900403637855616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/2486900403637855616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/11/delirando-trancado-em-uma-laje-escura.html' title=''/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/Swlm2nv3ZPI/AAAAAAAAAIc/_XsZMNICbUc/s72-c/OgAAAMdf9HZDCUJBTWifaSuhP9T91hJCL0_qTMoqdx1YjGL7semfQejpUbs75xTXZU0c7GPJfEbKvjAUdok14U6EXGgAm1T1UD7IUhz3nZlHkIoGegho-yIgSdRV.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-3524127960439521543</id><published>2009-11-22T08:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T12:25:33.434-08:00</updated><title type='text'>È VERDADE</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;É &lt;em&gt;verdade &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SwllJqDgp5I/AAAAAAAAAIU/lmPrCmVcJQI/s1600/Z19iego6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SwllJqDgp5I/AAAAAAAAAIU/lmPrCmVcJQI/s320/Z19iego6.jpg" yr="true" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;As pessoas amanhecem quase sempre entediadas,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Alimentam-se de ganância caminhando nas calçadas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;E correm loucas pelas ruas sem parar pra pensar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Assim vão se tornando criaturas mal amadas,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Totalmente tortas quase sempre agitadas,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Vivem sempre se perdendo e não sabem se amar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Agora me pergunto meramente nesse instante,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Com palavras que pra mim se tornaram relevantes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Expressadas por um negro que não cansa de falar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;As mazelas desse mundo terão seu final &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Ou serão tratadas como coisa normal?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Eu não sei a reposta, mas não vou me abalar!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Eriberto Henrique 16/09/2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337992970873723208-3524127960439521543?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/3524127960439521543/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/11/e-verdade-as-pessoas-amanhecem-quase.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/3524127960439521543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/3524127960439521543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/11/e-verdade-as-pessoas-amanhecem-quase.html' title='È VERDADE'/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SwllJqDgp5I/AAAAAAAAAIU/lmPrCmVcJQI/s72-c/Z19iego6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-1158660072986525109</id><published>2009-10-04T06:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T12:26:46.174-08:00</updated><title type='text'>UMA DECLARAÇÃO IMPORTANTE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SsikdSCoGDI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/0Ywbn8pTsnw/s1600-h/mulher+na+sombra.bmp"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388737777114814514" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SsikdSCoGDI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/0Ywbn8pTsnw/s200/mulher+na+sombra.bmp" style="cursor: hand; float: right; height: 200px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 150px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Uma Declaração Importante&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Oi!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Meu nome é tristeza!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Vivo sempre pelos cantos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Minha melhor amiga é a felicidade;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Andamos sempre juntas,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Uma não vive sem a outra.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Às vezes tenho vontade de ser feliz,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Mas lembro-me que sou triste;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Às vezes quero sorrir,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Mas só sei chorar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;ERIBERTO HENRIQUE &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337992970873723208-1158660072986525109?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/1158660072986525109/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/10/uma-declaracao-importante-oi-meu-nome-e.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/1158660072986525109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/1158660072986525109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/10/uma-declaracao-importante-oi-meu-nome-e.html' title='UMA DECLARAÇÃO IMPORTANTE'/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SsikdSCoGDI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/0Ywbn8pTsnw/s72-c/mulher+na+sombra.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-4051372918887301378</id><published>2009-09-23T07:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T12:28:07.654-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ONDAS DA PRAIA</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SrouXfnhSiI/AAAAAAAAAHA/asHr0SAiL30/s1600-h/mar+sobrio.bmp"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384667285633976866" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SrouXfnhSiI/AAAAAAAAAHA/asHr0SAiL30/s200/mar+sobrio.bmp" style="cursor: hand; float: right; height: 94px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 141px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;Ondas da Praia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje caminhei muito no desconhecido,&lt;br /&gt;O calor aumentava a sede e fadigava o corpo.&lt;br /&gt;O objetivo parecia cada vez mais distante,&lt;br /&gt;Porém às vezes tão perto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perdi minha ultima batalha!&lt;br /&gt;Lutei com todas as forças,&lt;br /&gt;Mas devo ter lutado errado.&lt;br /&gt;Estou em uma nova batalha!&lt;br /&gt;Diante dos meus olhos está o mar,&lt;br /&gt;Imenso na sua plenitude,&lt;br /&gt;Com águas mornas coloridas pelo reflexo do céu.&lt;br /&gt;Não sei o que será de mim&lt;br /&gt;Daqui algumas horas;&lt;br /&gt;Só sei do meu agora&lt;br /&gt;Que parece as ondas que vejo na praia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eriberto Henrique 17/09/2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&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/7337992970873723208-4051372918887301378?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/4051372918887301378/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/09/ondas-da-praia-hoje-caminhei-muito-no.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/4051372918887301378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/4051372918887301378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/09/ondas-da-praia-hoje-caminhei-muito-no.html' title='ONDAS DA PRAIA'/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SrouXfnhSiI/AAAAAAAAAHA/asHr0SAiL30/s72-c/mar+sobrio.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-4323045205402173910</id><published>2009-08-19T20:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T07:39:43.948-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MUNDO LIVRE</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SsilTEoQ8II/AAAAAAAAAHY/i_UsgE7Eiuw/s1600-h/OgAAAKeuV-3BMbEb9GgbK5aeA7-ThFZv3FKjIpreLvDNcLWZE7B4QpVj5hplHAgweeVv4W42VoAQ9EAhiXZrm6XV0O4Am1T1UA4mnT2orVwcFOq8KCDKGbt4md1k.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388738701227520130" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SsilTEoQ8II/AAAAAAAAAHY/i_UsgE7Eiuw/s200/OgAAAKeuV-3BMbEb9GgbK5aeA7-ThFZv3FKjIpreLvDNcLWZE7B4QpVj5hplHAgweeVv4W42VoAQ9EAhiXZrm6XV0O4Am1T1UA4mnT2orVwcFOq8KCDKGbt4md1k.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: right; height: 150px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 200px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SozDl6dC_CI/AAAAAAAAAGw/uPqHZBf-eZk/s1600-h/OgAAAJStlqbk9H_9kpcKF-1Vka49h7NgY4gWAFgrTyz7awov2a5bl0ako2Ee77mfRDINsV-6A-I2ejG6bFm3GGDun7AAm1T1UD2YrOexCfxqWz18-LKqyYlflu9j.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mundo livre&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou o Fred!&lt;br /&gt;Tenho 25 anos de mundo livre S/A;&lt;br /&gt;Com 10 anos de garagem&lt;br /&gt;Pra um disco vim lançar,&lt;br /&gt;Despontando no estado&lt;br /&gt;E no cenário nacional.&lt;br /&gt;A mundo livre&lt;br /&gt;Fez o seu trabalho totalmente independente,&lt;br /&gt;Mostrando a cultura de uma forma diferente,&lt;br /&gt;Criando seu estilo&lt;br /&gt;Totalmente original.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foi muito louco,&lt;br /&gt;Chegamos à gravadora,&lt;br /&gt;Com fome de canibais;&lt;br /&gt;Diminuíram nossas músicas,&lt;br /&gt;Pois achavam grandes demais;&lt;br /&gt;Disseram que pra rádio tinha que fazer um hit.&lt;br /&gt;Mas foi beleza,&lt;br /&gt;Assinamos o contrato e gravamos o CD,&lt;br /&gt;E junto com a Nação nós botamos pra fuder,&lt;br /&gt;Levando para o mundo o movimento mangue beat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Assim surgimos,&lt;br /&gt;Dos becos de Candeias,&lt;br /&gt;Pra passar nosso recado,&lt;br /&gt;E hoje em um poema fomos homenageados,&lt;br /&gt;Por um cara que tem orgulho de ser&lt;br /&gt;Negro, humilde&lt;br /&gt;Poeta e favelado!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eriberto Henrique&lt;br /&gt;Uma homenagem a Fred 04 e a Banda Mundo Livre s/a&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&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/7337992970873723208-4323045205402173910?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/4323045205402173910/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/08/mundo-livre-eu-sou-o-fred-tenho-25-anos.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/4323045205402173910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/4323045205402173910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/08/mundo-livre-eu-sou-o-fred-tenho-25-anos.html' title='MUNDO LIVRE'/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SsilTEoQ8II/AAAAAAAAAHY/i_UsgE7Eiuw/s72-c/OgAAAKeuV-3BMbEb9GgbK5aeA7-ThFZv3FKjIpreLvDNcLWZE7B4QpVj5hplHAgweeVv4W42VoAQ9EAhiXZrm6XV0O4Am1T1UA4mnT2orVwcFOq8KCDKGbt4md1k.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-8538400649122494823</id><published>2009-08-06T04:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T07:41:01.182-07:00</updated><title type='text'>COISAS E CRIATURAS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SnrFgFtc-JI/AAAAAAAAAGg/e4zFZp5Ow1w/s1600-h/191197.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366819061044672658" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SnrFgFtc-JI/AAAAAAAAAGg/e4zFZp5Ow1w/s200/191197.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: right; height: 134px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 200px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Coisas e Criaturas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eles brincam com o nosso Brasil!&lt;br /&gt;Discutem seus interesses no senado,&lt;br /&gt;E se lixam para a opinião publica.&lt;br /&gt;Encontram prazer com nosso dinheiro,&lt;br /&gt;E fazem de nossas vidas piadas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fazem de mim e de você&lt;br /&gt;Mais um bobo da corte!&lt;br /&gt;Somos marionetes!&lt;br /&gt;Manipuladas por sistemas que nem conhecemos.&lt;br /&gt;Páginas de uma constituição que não foi feita pra nós.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já nascemos programados,&lt;br /&gt;Destinados a ceder&lt;br /&gt;E nunca a ganhar.&lt;br /&gt;Fazem de nossos documentos a razão sua gloria!&lt;br /&gt;Fazem de nós,&lt;br /&gt;O fruto de engano&lt;br /&gt;Ou um verso pernambucano&lt;br /&gt;Escrito sem pensar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eriberto Henrique 04/08/2009&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&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/7337992970873723208-8538400649122494823?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/8538400649122494823/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/08/coisas-e-criaturas-eles-brincam-com-o.html#comment-form' title='2 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/8538400649122494823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/8538400649122494823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/08/coisas-e-criaturas-eles-brincam-com-o.html' title='COISAS E CRIATURAS'/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SnrFgFtc-JI/AAAAAAAAAGg/e4zFZp5Ow1w/s72-c/191197.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-3548500213398006633</id><published>2009-07-17T11:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T07:42:12.230-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O SUBÚRBIO</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SmDKxWJtlQI/AAAAAAAAAGY/sRohJdqgilI/s1600-h/49043.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359506505679607042" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SmDKxWJtlQI/AAAAAAAAAGY/sRohJdqgilI/s200/49043.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: right; height: 146px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 200px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 130%;"&gt;O Subúrbio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que vejo?&lt;br /&gt;Casas&lt;br /&gt;Mal acabadas,&lt;br /&gt;Mal construídas,&lt;br /&gt;Mal formuladas!&lt;br /&gt;Retratos de pessoas,&lt;br /&gt;De seres&lt;br /&gt;Modelados pelo capitalismo.&lt;br /&gt;O subúrbio continua o mesmo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;É assim!&lt;br /&gt;Um sonho&lt;br /&gt;Não planejado!&lt;br /&gt;Nas invasões&lt;br /&gt;Surgem as famílias,&lt;br /&gt;Criadas no acaso&lt;br /&gt;Da falta&lt;br /&gt;De prevenção.&lt;br /&gt;O subúrbio continua o mesmo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quase&lt;br /&gt;Sempre descalços,&lt;br /&gt;Os negros caminham nas ruas;&lt;br /&gt;Muitas vezes sem camisa&lt;br /&gt;Com uma gaiola&lt;br /&gt;De pássaros na mão.&lt;br /&gt;O subúrbio continua o mesmo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As calçadas&lt;br /&gt;São invadidas,&lt;br /&gt;Como todos os terrenos&lt;br /&gt;Ainda possíveis&lt;br /&gt;São invadidos.&lt;br /&gt;Não resta mais nada!&lt;br /&gt;Os bêbados&lt;br /&gt;Nas ruas,&lt;br /&gt;Tornam-se poetas!&lt;br /&gt;Cansados do tédio da vida,&lt;br /&gt;Poetizam&lt;br /&gt;Em uma garrafa de cana.&lt;br /&gt;O subúrbio continua o mesmo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aqui&lt;br /&gt;Nas ladeiras,&lt;br /&gt;Aprendem-se tudo,&lt;br /&gt;Vendo tudo!&lt;br /&gt;O medo&lt;br /&gt;É servido no café da manhã,&lt;br /&gt;E as lágrimas&lt;br /&gt;São usadas para fazer o suco.&lt;br /&gt;O subúrbio continua o mesmo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os cães latem a madrugada inteira!&lt;br /&gt;Reviram o lixo,&lt;br /&gt;Cruzam no cio,&lt;br /&gt;Defecam em nossas portas&lt;br /&gt;E dormem pelos becos.&lt;br /&gt;Que coisa não!&lt;br /&gt;O subúrbio continua o mesmo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esgotos sempre estourados,&lt;br /&gt;Ruas esburacadas,&lt;br /&gt;Cenário de louco,&lt;br /&gt;De vidas um tanto perdidas.&lt;br /&gt;É!&lt;br /&gt;O subúrbio continua o mesmo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drogas vendidas nas esquinas;&lt;br /&gt;Assaltos,&lt;br /&gt;Violência ao pudor&lt;br /&gt;E homicídios.&lt;br /&gt;Diante de todas as coisas&lt;br /&gt;O subúrbio continua o mesmo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os ciclos passam;&lt;br /&gt;Governo e governantes,&lt;br /&gt;Os sonhos também.&lt;br /&gt;Algumas coisas são feitas;&lt;br /&gt;Poucas coisas são feitas!&lt;br /&gt;O subúrbio continua o mesmo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Já é tarde!&lt;br /&gt;Bem tarde!&lt;br /&gt;Mas nunca tarde demais.&lt;br /&gt;Mas sabemos,&lt;br /&gt;É!&lt;br /&gt;E como sabemos!&lt;br /&gt;Fingimos que não sabemos,&lt;br /&gt;Mas sabemos!&lt;br /&gt;Nós suburbanos sempre sabemos,&lt;br /&gt;Que o subúrbio continua o mesmo!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eriberto Henrique 14/07/2009 &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&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/7337992970873723208-3548500213398006633?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/3548500213398006633/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/07/o-suburbio-o-que-vejo-casas-mal.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/3548500213398006633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/3548500213398006633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/07/o-suburbio-o-que-vejo-casas-mal.html' title='O SUBÚRBIO'/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SmDKxWJtlQI/AAAAAAAAAGY/sRohJdqgilI/s72-c/49043.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-3896208175467990358</id><published>2009-07-03T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T07:43:32.931-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SABES QUE SABES!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/Sk5AIU91YiI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/9YuOARHqxOA/s1600-h/OgAAALfoxYhXaRMR6d9esnbwykubmSrbBO69kpVEJDG0gpoVQkJr7dP4VzpqEUPx0BMxjlk1QIzX5_CdPK_JLY-ivrwAm1T1UNpWvcI0BsQgYLZ3VF78Ig78TyU-.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354287518801289762" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/Sk5AIU91YiI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/9YuOARHqxOA/s200/OgAAALfoxYhXaRMR6d9esnbwykubmSrbBO69kpVEJDG0gpoVQkJr7dP4VzpqEUPx0BMxjlk1QIzX5_CdPK_JLY-ivrwAm1T1UNpWvcI0BsQgYLZ3VF78Ig78TyU-.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: right; height: 150px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 200px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sabes que Sabes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que nós somos?&lt;br /&gt;Seres destinados&lt;br /&gt;A saber, e não saber,&lt;br /&gt;Às vezes reclamamos&lt;br /&gt;Do que temos que fazer,&lt;br /&gt;E nunca reclamamos&lt;br /&gt;Desse mundo desigual.&lt;br /&gt;Sorrimos!&lt;br /&gt;Em meio aos lamentos&lt;br /&gt;De uma triste multidão,&lt;br /&gt;E nunca percebemos&lt;br /&gt;O poder em nossas mãos,&lt;br /&gt;Vendo a miséria&lt;br /&gt;Como coisa natural.&lt;br /&gt;O que seremos?&lt;br /&gt;Talvez até saibamos&lt;br /&gt;Do destino do destino,&lt;br /&gt;E vemos que o homem&lt;br /&gt;Sempre vai evoluindo,&lt;br /&gt;Nunca o lado homem,&lt;br /&gt;Mas lado irracional!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No fim de tudo&lt;br /&gt;Talvez encontrem&lt;br /&gt;Nossa triste ilusão,&lt;br /&gt;Nos escombros da pureza&lt;br /&gt;Reprimida sem razão,&lt;br /&gt;Esquecida e perdida&lt;br /&gt;Pela tal humanidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eriberto Henrique 02/07/2009 &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&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/7337992970873723208-3896208175467990358?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/3896208175467990358/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/07/sabes-que-sabes-o-que-nos-somos-seres.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/3896208175467990358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/3896208175467990358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/07/sabes-que-sabes-o-que-nos-somos-seres.html' title='SABES QUE SABES!'/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/Sk5AIU91YiI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/9YuOARHqxOA/s72-c/OgAAALfoxYhXaRMR6d9esnbwykubmSrbBO69kpVEJDG0gpoVQkJr7dP4VzpqEUPx0BMxjlk1QIzX5_CdPK_JLY-ivrwAm1T1UNpWvcI0BsQgYLZ3VF78Ig78TyU-.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-947901643996525023</id><published>2009-06-30T18:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T07:44:23.324-07:00</updated><title type='text'>AOS TRANCOS E BARRANCOS</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SkrBMwIawxI/AAAAAAAAAGA/S82848tUn0I/s1600-h/192138.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353303531906056978" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SkrBMwIawxI/AAAAAAAAAGA/S82848tUn0I/s200/192138.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: right; height: 134px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 200px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Aos trancos e barrancos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fudeu!&lt;br /&gt;Mais um negro morreu,&lt;br /&gt;Ou um branco viveu!&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém se importa!&lt;br /&gt;O mundo é um mundo de tolos,&lt;br /&gt;E a cada momento se fecha uma porta.&lt;br /&gt;Perdido,&lt;br /&gt;Fudido,&lt;br /&gt;Vivendo desempregado.&lt;br /&gt;Buscando uma oportunidade,&lt;br /&gt;Batendo na porta&lt;br /&gt;E voltando pra casa cansado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A vida,&lt;br /&gt;Bandida,&lt;br /&gt;Só faz jogar com você!&lt;br /&gt;Mostra-te a verdade no erro,&lt;br /&gt;Mas depois do erro,&lt;br /&gt;Tu que a verdade pra quê?&lt;br /&gt;Não desiste,&lt;br /&gt;Segue em frente.&lt;br /&gt;Mostra que tu és fiel!&lt;br /&gt;Fiel ao teu sentimento&lt;br /&gt;Banhado de sangue&lt;br /&gt;Com lágrima e fel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tão louco,&lt;br /&gt;Sonhando!&lt;br /&gt;Cansado de raciocinar!&lt;br /&gt;Esquece a merda do sonho,&lt;br /&gt;Pois no jogo da vida&lt;br /&gt;Só é jogador&lt;br /&gt;Quem não sabe jogar!&lt;br /&gt;Meu Deus,&lt;br /&gt;É duro,&lt;br /&gt;Um ser caminhar sobre a dor,&lt;br /&gt;E ver na TV mais um negro,&lt;br /&gt;Pagando pelos erros&lt;br /&gt;Que nunca errou!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sei,&lt;br /&gt;E sei!&lt;br /&gt;Que não adianta falar,&lt;br /&gt;O mundo se encontra tão louco,&lt;br /&gt;Que daqui a pouco vai acabar.&lt;br /&gt;Morte,&lt;br /&gt;Tristeza,&lt;br /&gt;Pobreza&lt;br /&gt;E corrupção;&lt;br /&gt;A pena e ver que mais um,&lt;br /&gt;Morreu simplesmente&lt;br /&gt;Por ser cidadão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eriberto Henrique 14/03/2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&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/7337992970873723208-947901643996525023?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/947901643996525023/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/06/aos-trancos-e-barrancos-fudeu-mais-um.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/947901643996525023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/947901643996525023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/06/aos-trancos-e-barrancos-fudeu-mais-um.html' title='AOS TRANCOS E BARRANCOS'/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SkrBMwIawxI/AAAAAAAAAGA/S82848tUn0I/s72-c/192138.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-9080594921423992711</id><published>2009-06-29T20:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T07:45:37.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'>COMO É FÁCIL COMPRAR VOTO EM UMA DEMOCRACIA</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Como é fácil comprar voto em uma democracia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há anos atrás brasileiros saíram às ruas para lutar pelos seus ideais! Jovens patriotas que sonhavam com a ordem e o progresso sonhavam com uma democracia valorosa onde o povo teria o poder de escolher o governo. Assim surgiram as diretas já! Uma nação unida para mudar a cara do Brasil. De bandeiras nas mãos queriam o voto direto e, tornar o titulo eleitoral um documento valioso.&lt;br /&gt;Os esforços foram validos e, tivemos nosso primeiro voto direto. Mas o povo, não fez a sua parte, esqueceu que elegendo seu candidato também teria a obrigação de fazer política, assessorando os políticos no desenvolvimento da nação; buscando melhorias, com brando dos governantes que tais melhorias sejam colocadas em prática.&lt;br /&gt;Mas os patriotas por algum motivo casaram, ou simplesmente desistiram de lutar; talvez descobrisse que fazer a parte deles era tão difícil quanto reclamar, e as novas gerações surgiram acomodas, cobrando apenas dos políticos e nunca fazendo o seu papel. Os políticos se aproveitando disso cruzaram os braços faz tempo, deixando o povo se enforcar, e os que tentaram fazer alguma coisa, se viram impotentes diante da oposição e do próprio povo que ficou cada vez mais mal educado, enchendo o Brasil de lixo, destruindo o que devia ser valores e jogando na lama a nobre cidadania.&lt;br /&gt;O governo atual tem criado projetos até interessantes como a bolsa escola, mas os pais de uma maneira absurda e digamos irracional, usam o dinheiro que era pra ser investido na criança, na compra de livros para desenvolver a literatura, para cursos básicos como computação e outros; mas é usado para benefícios dos pais, um absurdo para uma nação que antes lutou pelo progresso. Hoje em dia, políticos espertalhões aproveitam-se da fragilidade do povo, que passa a noite assistindo novelas recheadas de marketing e histórias vazias; compram voto facilmente, pagando o povo para fazer suas campanhas e recebendo o voto em troca. O povo que ele sabe que não vai fazer nada e muito menos ele.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337992970873723208-9080594921423992711?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/9080594921423992711/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/06/como-e-facil-comprar-voto-em-uma.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/9080594921423992711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/9080594921423992711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/06/como-e-facil-comprar-voto-em-uma.html' title='COMO É FÁCIL COMPRAR VOTO EM UMA DEMOCRACIA'/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-5917194710776822700</id><published>2009-06-29T20:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T07:46:48.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'>UMA POPULAÇÃO QUE CRESCE SEM CONTROLE</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Uma população que cresce sem controle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vivemos em um país sem estrutura e temos uma população sem consciência! É um absurdo na atualidade em que estamos famílias pobres continuarem tendo filhos de uma maneira desenfreada; mesmo com preservativos e outros métodos anticoncepcionais sendo distribuídos de graça nos postos de saúde e hospitais, e também em campanhas externas.&lt;br /&gt;Parece que as pessoas perderam a noção, colocam filhos no mundo sem ter estrutura para educá-los e até sustentá-los; responsabilizando assim o governo pelas mazelas que suas famílias tendem a sofrer. Muitas famílias crescem sem ter onde morar! E aonde encontrar um lar para cinco ou seis crianças, é difícil. Os supostos chefes familiares invadem terrenos ou áreas impróprias, e constroem casas barracos até em calçadas que em alguns bairros já nem existem mais. Os prefeitos de uma cidade agora alem de ser responsável pela saúde, educação, saneamento básico, empregabilidade infra- estrutura, turismo e etc. Também devem dar moradia, salário e alimentação a famílias que surgem do acaso, sem ser planejadas por meros irresponsáveis que acham que os outros e que são os culpados pela conseqüência de suas atitudes nada conscientes e nem um pouco racional.&lt;br /&gt;Sabemos que em alguns países desenvolvidos é lei famílias terem apenas um ou dois filhos. Quem sabe não é a única solução para o Brasil, que vê sua população crescer cada vez mais sem estrutura; e o dinheiro que devia ser investido no progresso do país, deixe de ser usado para dar base e esses pais, que fazem cinco ou seis filhos sem se preocupar se podem sustentá-los que dirá educá-los.&lt;br /&gt;Eu às vezes me pergunto se todas essas coisas que não eram para acontecer, vão deixar de acontecer. Na verdade tudo parece uma utopia, porque é muito difícil ajudar uma nação que não que evoluir, alimentando uma tola esperança de que um dia vai dar tudo certo, mas esquecendo que nós é que temos que fazer dar certo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eriberto Henrique&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337992970873723208-5917194710776822700?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/5917194710776822700/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/06/uma-populacao-que-cresce-sem-controle.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/5917194710776822700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/5917194710776822700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/06/uma-populacao-que-cresce-sem-controle.html' title='UMA POPULAÇÃO QUE CRESCE SEM CONTROLE'/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-1222412684527952134</id><published>2009-05-02T16:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T08:37:14.637-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DE NORTE A SUL</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/Sfzc8nwQAJI/AAAAAAAAAFo/FpcvP9IAUI8/s1600-h/residencias+sinistras+fotos+13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331378992921444498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 421px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 237px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/Sfzc8nwQAJI/AAAAAAAAAFo/FpcvP9IAUI8/s200/residencias+sinistras+fotos+13.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;VOU ZUANDO POR AI&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331379340781216402" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 152px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfzdQ3oe4pI/AAAAAAAAAFw/8Y8oHtEAA3U/s200/Zolwo2d.jpg" border="0" /&gt;SEM SABER ONDE CHEGAR,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;SEM TER HORA PRA PARAR,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;TER COM O QUE ME PREUCUPAR?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;LIXO, MORTE, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;CORRUPIÇÕES!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;PESSOAS SOFREDORAS&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;RODEADAS DE LADRÕES.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;DE CIDADE EM CIDADE&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;BUSCANDO A FELICIDADE;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;ACHO QUE NÃO SOU PERFEITO,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;SOU HUMANO PODE CRER!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;SEI QUE SOU MUITO FORTE,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;MAS AS VEZES SOU UM FRACO,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;MAS SOU HOMEM NÃO UM RATO,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;POIS NÃO VIVO A ME ESCONDER.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;ERIBERTO HENRIQUE&lt;/em&gt;&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/7337992970873723208-1222412684527952134?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/1222412684527952134/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/05/de-norte-sul.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/1222412684527952134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/1222412684527952134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/05/de-norte-sul.html' title='DE NORTE A SUL'/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/Sfzc8nwQAJI/AAAAAAAAAFo/FpcvP9IAUI8/s72-c/residencias+sinistras+fotos+13.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-7148580477419004804</id><published>2009-05-02T16:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T08:37:37.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'>OBJETOS E DESEJOS!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfzaVu79xaI/AAAAAAAAAFY/lXIk3NQG5kM/s1600-h/residencias+sinistras+fotos+16.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331376125811475874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 621px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfzaVu79xaI/AAAAAAAAAFY/lXIk3NQG5kM/s200/residencias+sinistras+fotos+16.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfzbN5RNrtI/AAAAAAAAAFg/972S3RLHEB4/s1600-h/ATcAAACVn5XBAw4cGGOK-6Hc3e86UNQjKf9Fv3ZYPBje6Bg0CZX-nfH-gfuz9hXAWCYH6RvoTX4VdX2oaNfJAmUO0YHXAJtU9VD-3wA_CzkbtqjVjzCKfBzgRc7Tag.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331377090657627858" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfzbN5RNrtI/AAAAAAAAAFg/972S3RLHEB4/s200/ATcAAACVn5XBAw4cGGOK-6Hc3e86UNQjKf9Fv3ZYPBje6Bg0CZX-nfH-gfuz9hXAWCYH6RvoTX4VdX2oaNfJAmUO0YHXAJtU9VD-3wA_CzkbtqjVjzCKfBzgRc7Tag.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;DOCES ENROLADOS,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;DESEJOS MALTRATADOS,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;VIDROS JÁ QUEBRADOS,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;BEIJO SEM SABOR.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;PASSÁRO SEM NINHO,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;ABRAÇO SEM CARINHO,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;ROSA SEM ESPINHO,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;ROMANCE SEM AMOR.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;TÁ TUDO ERRADO,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;O VERBO FOI TROCADO,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;DO POEMA INACABADO,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;ESCRITO SEM PRAZER.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A LUA ME CHAMANDO,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A MÚSICA TOCANDO,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;LEMBRANÇAS VÃO PASSANDO,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E EU SEM VOCÊ! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;ERIBERTO HENRIQUE&lt;/em&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/7337992970873723208-7148580477419004804?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/7148580477419004804/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/05/objetos-e-desejos.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/7148580477419004804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/7148580477419004804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/05/objetos-e-desejos.html' title='OBJETOS E DESEJOS!'/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfzaVu79xaI/AAAAAAAAAFY/lXIk3NQG5kM/s72-c/residencias+sinistras+fotos+16.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-1913602325653059889</id><published>2009-04-30T14:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T07:48:46.851-07:00</updated><title type='text'>POETA  DO SUBÚRBIO</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SkrB3DURCGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/qBRBEAaX0CM/s1600-h/DSC00648(2).JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353304258610530402" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SkrB3DURCGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/qBRBEAaX0CM/s200/DSC00648(2).JPG" style="cursor: hand; float: right; height: 148px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 200px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/Sfoo0Pr1gnI/AAAAAAAAADw/ssNAFZ0Q6Xs/s1600-h/DSC01217.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330617986975105650" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/Sfoo0Pr1gnI/AAAAAAAAADw/ssNAFZ0Q6Xs/s400/DSC01217.JPG" style="cursor: hand; float: right; height: 300px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 679px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;É hora de expressar&lt;br /&gt;O meu recado, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfzXigTfQmI/AAAAAAAAAFI/O_R1dk8AioU/s1600-h/DSC01539.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Filho de sofridos,&lt;br /&gt;Cresci como um coitado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas como um guerreiro&lt;br /&gt;Nunca deixei de lutar,&lt;br /&gt;Aprendi, venci,&lt;br /&gt;E fui tentando me encontar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caindo e levantando&lt;br /&gt;Enganei o meu destino;&lt;br /&gt;Fui homem de verdade&lt;br /&gt;Na grandeza de um menino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Criado no subúrbio&lt;br /&gt;Com a pobreza do meu lado!&lt;br /&gt;Preto, pobre,&lt;br /&gt;Poeta e favelado!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sempre acreditando&lt;br /&gt;Busquei minha verdade,&lt;br /&gt;E nos becos do subúrbio&lt;br /&gt;Adiquiri maturidade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cada erro&lt;br /&gt;Um novo aprendizado,&lt;br /&gt;Vivendo e aprendendo&lt;br /&gt;Mesmo sendo humilhado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cada cicatriz&lt;br /&gt;Uma medalha escancarada,&lt;br /&gt;Fazendo das mazelas&lt;br /&gt;Uma piada a ser contada!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje tenho orgulho&lt;br /&gt;Dos caminhos já andados;&lt;br /&gt;Sou preto, pobre,&lt;br /&gt;Poeta e favelado!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eriberto Henrique&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Poeta do Subúrbio&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/7337992970873723208-1913602325653059889?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/1913602325653059889/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/04/poeta-do-suburbio.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/1913602325653059889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/1913602325653059889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/04/poeta-do-suburbio.html' title='POETA  DO SUBÚRBIO'/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SkrB3DURCGI/AAAAAAAAAGI/qBRBEAaX0CM/s72-c/DSC00648(2).JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-5590978612888316552</id><published>2009-01-26T06:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T08:43:29.397-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DEDICATÓRIA</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfpToWN74SI/AAAAAAAAAE4/hfn4C9R15Hg/s1600-h/BXK20759_os-amantes800.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330665061570306338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfpToWN74SI/AAAAAAAAAE4/hfn4C9R15Hg/s400/BXK20759_os-amantes800.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/Sfoq9RIYrTI/AAAAAAAAAEA/YSXFhDkPtzM/s1600-h/ATcAAAB1MK2zhfqmFw2pHBOJ_6Tp1oQY9f6NhhetTOLnD3hNe_2OyXkC8qLireT-fJE83sQNx_rcM29sZj3PtDcrbL7bAJtU9VCptuKeBPmBjSuZlgPsE9kWK6zR3A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330620341005364530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 183px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 164px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/Sfoq9RIYrTI/AAAAAAAAAEA/YSXFhDkPtzM/s400/ATcAAAB1MK2zhfqmFw2pHBOJ_6Tp1oQY9f6NhhetTOLnD3hNe_2OyXkC8qLireT-fJE83sQNx_rcM29sZj3PtDcrbL7bAJtU9VCptuKeBPmBjSuZlgPsE9kWK6zR3A.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;As vezes quando estou sozinho, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fico sentado bem quietinho,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Encarrando a solidão.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E no meu livro de páginas marcadas,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Releio as frazes sublinhadas&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E choro sem razão!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Eu passo as noites no meu universo,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Com dores arrancadas dos versos,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Escritos em uma noite chuvosa! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Vivendo essa vida sofrida,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Relembrando a ilusão perdida,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Na poesia chorosa.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E como ave já cansada,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Não me resta mais nada,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A não ser escrever.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Queria dedicar a alguém,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mas como não tenho ninguém&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Eu dedico a você!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Eriberto Henrique &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&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/7337992970873723208-5590978612888316552?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/5590978612888316552/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/01/dedicatria.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/5590978612888316552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/5590978612888316552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2009/01/dedicatria.html' title='DEDICATÓRIA'/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfpToWN74SI/AAAAAAAAAE4/hfn4C9R15Hg/s72-c/BXK20759_os-amantes800.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-1928676968118833886</id><published>2008-12-26T03:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T08:45:33.198-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfpPWsia1AI/AAAAAAAAAEI/RMl3YdrGap8/s1600-h/BXK21139_eu-pessoa800.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330660360277644290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 452px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfpPWsia1AI/AAAAAAAAAEI/RMl3YdrGap8/s400/BXK21139_eu-pessoa800.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;UMIDADE MORTA &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Perdido em outro mundo, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Com jeito de moribundo,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Eu passo o dia a escrever!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Com umidade triste no olhar, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Calma como a água do mar,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Em versos quero morrer...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A solidão é minha companheira!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Escuta as minhas asneiras&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;E, passa as tardes caladas.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A morte é meu destino!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;O silêncio tornou-se um hino, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;De minha noite passada.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cansado desse mundo deserto,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Malandro e um pouco esperto, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Eu deixo o tempo passar;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Escrevendo na escuridão,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Com melodrama e emoção,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;eu vou pra qualquer lugar!...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Eriberto Henrique &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&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/7337992970873723208-1928676968118833886?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/1928676968118833886/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2008/12/umidade-morta-perdido-em-outro-mundo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/1928676968118833886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/1928676968118833886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2008/12/umidade-morta-perdido-em-outro-mundo.html' title=''/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfpPWsia1AI/AAAAAAAAAEI/RMl3YdrGap8/s72-c/BXK21139_eu-pessoa800.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-1154789151814299189</id><published>2008-12-26T03:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T08:46:19.431-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfpPpn3bi6I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/GRmiYh5UrUc/s1600-h/737588-38593-1280.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330660685441108898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 548px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 329px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfpPpn3bi6I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/GRmiYh5UrUc/s400/737588-38593-1280.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307884480071792530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/Salkz-9895I/AAAAAAAAACY/RO4pj4X_gX0/s200/214615-6259-1280.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;FLOR DOS CAMPOS MORTOS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoje o sol não sorriu!&lt;br /&gt;O dia permaneceu nublado,&lt;br /&gt;O tempo ficou parado&lt;br /&gt;E, o meu amor partiu!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lágrimas impiedosas&lt;br /&gt;Brotaram do meu tormento,&lt;br /&gt;Lágrimas de sofrimento,&lt;br /&gt;Sangrentas e dolorosas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Triste flor dos campos mortos!&lt;br /&gt;Deixo meus sinceros votos&lt;br /&gt;A tua morte já velada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senhora do meu jardim,&lt;br /&gt;Eterno sonho que não tem fim,&lt;br /&gt;Serás pra sempre minha amada!...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eriberto Henrique 15-06-2004&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&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/7337992970873723208-1154789151814299189?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/1154789151814299189/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2008/12/flor-dos-campos-mortos-hoje-o-sol-no.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/1154789151814299189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/1154789151814299189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2008/12/flor-dos-campos-mortos-hoje-o-sol-no.html' title=''/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfpPpn3bi6I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/GRmiYh5UrUc/s72-c/737588-38593-1280.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-5300600327987025276</id><published>2008-12-24T07:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T08:47:10.961-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfpULKsrY3I/AAAAAAAAAFA/i7CB83dOqM0/s1600-h/BXK15424_descortinando_uma_natureza_paralela800.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330665659773444978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 439px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfpULKsrY3I/AAAAAAAAAFA/i7CB83dOqM0/s400/BXK15424_descortinando_uma_natureza_paralela800.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;DESABROCHAR DA LOUCURA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NO MEIO DO DESABROCHAR DA LOUCURA,&lt;br /&gt;BANHADO DE PENSAMENTOS DE LUXÚRIA,&lt;br /&gt;EU DURMO COM O SONHO DE SONHAR!&lt;br /&gt;CANSADO DE NÃO TER O QUE FAZER,&lt;br /&gt;VENDO MAIS UM DIA FALECER,&lt;br /&gt;EU VENHO ESSES VERSOS ESBOÇAR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ROLANDO DE UM LADO PARA O OUTRO,&lt;br /&gt;ENTRE LENÇÓIS EU PENSO QUE ESTOU LOUCO,&lt;br /&gt;E EM VERSOS SOFRO DE SAUDADE!&lt;br /&gt;SAUDADE DO AMOR QUE FICOU PRA TRAZ,&lt;br /&gt;UMA LINDA FLOR DE LÁBIOS LILÁS,&lt;br /&gt;QUE ME MOSTROU A FELICIADE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dedicado a Maria Selma de Araujo Silva&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ERIBERTO HENRIQUE&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7337992970873723208-5300600327987025276?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/5300600327987025276/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2008/12/desabrochar-da-loucura-no-meio-do.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/5300600327987025276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/5300600327987025276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2008/12/desabrochar-da-loucura-no-meio-do.html' title=''/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfpULKsrY3I/AAAAAAAAAFA/i7CB83dOqM0/s72-c/BXK15424_descortinando_uma_natureza_paralela800.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-7287992858949514151</id><published>2008-12-24T06:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T08:47:54.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330661417824152994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 562px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 316px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfpQUQNJ7aI/AAAAAAAAAEg/DmwnJCLkL3U/s400/22052-44449-1280.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;O MELHOR CANTOR DO BRASIL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RENATO ERA UM CARA BACANA,&lt;br /&gt;DESDE MULEQUE QUERIA TER UMA BANDA,&lt;br /&gt;ESCREVER VERSOS E TOCAR VIOLÃO!&lt;br /&gt;TEVE UMA VIDA CONTURBADA,&lt;br /&gt;UM TANTO QUANTO AGITADA,&lt;br /&gt;COMO AS LETRAS DE CADA CANÇÃO.&lt;br /&gt;BAIXO ELE COMEÇOU A TOCAR,&lt;br /&gt;UMA BANDA CHAMADA ABORTO ELÉTRICO ELE QUIS DIVULGAR,&lt;br /&gt;MAS MUITO LONGE NÃO FOI NÃO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RENATO NUNCA DESISTIU&lt;br /&gt;E, NAS ESQUINAS DA CAPITAL DO BRASIL,&lt;br /&gt;ELE FUNDOU A LEGIÃO!&lt;br /&gt;EM COMPANHIA DE DADO E BONFÁ,&lt;br /&gt;RENATO SAIU PRA VER O MAR&lt;br /&gt;E, FORMAR A NOVA GERAÇÃO!&lt;br /&gt;UMA GERAÇÃO CHAMADA DE COCA-COLA,&lt;br /&gt;FORMADA PELA RAPAZIADA DA ESCOLA,&lt;br /&gt;DE CARA PINTADA E TÍTULO NA MÃO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O MAIOR POETA MUSICAL DO PAÍS,&lt;br /&gt;COMPOSITOR DE MUSICAS, COMO SERÁ E GIZ,&lt;br /&gt;NO DIA 11 DE OUTUBRO DE 1996 MORREU!&lt;br /&gt;E NESTA NOITE QUE NÃO TEM LUAR,&lt;br /&gt;EU VENHO EM VERSOS HOMENAGEAR,&lt;br /&gt;UM GRANDE ARTISTA QUE A HISTÓRIA PERDEU!&lt;br /&gt;FOI-SE O HOMEM, MAS A OBRA FICOU!&lt;br /&gt;UMA OBRA DE PAZ, POLÍTICA E AMOR,&lt;br /&gt;SEM NENHUMA RESTRINÇÃO.&lt;br /&gt;DEIXOU UM LEGADO IMENSO!&lt;br /&gt;E POR ISSO QUE PENSO,&lt;br /&gt;QUE ELE CUMPRIU SUA MISSÃO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ERIBERTO HENRIQUE&lt;/em&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/7337992970873723208-7287992858949514151?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/7287992858949514151/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2008/12/o-melhor-cantor-do-brasil-renato-era-um.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/7287992858949514151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/7287992858949514151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2008/12/o-melhor-cantor-do-brasil-renato-era-um.html' title=''/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfpQUQNJ7aI/AAAAAAAAAEg/DmwnJCLkL3U/s72-c/22052-44449-1280.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-4552935344566896593</id><published>2008-12-24T05:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T08:48:21.103-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330661842089406242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 415px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 375px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfpQs8t37yI/AAAAAAAAAEo/wwAxHNCRnDQ/s400/BXK20759_noturno800.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;MADRUGADA FRIA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andei na chuva pela madrugada,&lt;br /&gt;Da cidade cheia de tristeza!&lt;br /&gt;Nas ruas luzes semi apagadas&lt;br /&gt;E, cães ladrando em plena frieza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sentimentos mortos andaram comigo,&lt;br /&gt;Na rua das minhas ilusões;&lt;br /&gt;Diante dos meus olhos um fudido,&lt;br /&gt;Repleto de sombras e assombrações.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Antigos amores vagando na rua,&lt;br /&gt;Como almas penadas diante da lua,&lt;br /&gt;Na neblina fria da madrugada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isto é um sonho que estou a sonhar!&lt;br /&gt;Pois numa noite de chuva não se vê o luar,&lt;br /&gt;Muito menos os amores da vida passada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ERIBERTO HENRIQUE&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&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/7337992970873723208-4552935344566896593?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/4552935344566896593/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2008/12/madrugada-fria-andei-na-chuva-pela.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/4552935344566896593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/4552935344566896593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2008/12/madrugada-fria-andei-na-chuva-pela.html' title=''/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfpQs8t37yI/AAAAAAAAAEo/wwAxHNCRnDQ/s72-c/BXK20759_noturno800.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7337992970873723208.post-6102011035842765472</id><published>2008-12-24T05:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T08:49:06.998-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330663288774322466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 538px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfpSBKCb6SI/AAAAAAAAAEw/A-Oyb4tRBUw/s400/BXK32456_lagrima800.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;ASSIM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Agora me vejo a escrever,&lt;br /&gt;Versos que talvez ninguém se atreva a ler,&lt;br /&gt;Por complicados e chatos que são!&lt;br /&gt;A vida parece tão calma,&lt;br /&gt;Que chega a enganar a alma,&lt;br /&gt;Tão triste caída no chão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encostado em poste escrevendo na rua,&lt;br /&gt;Eu olho pro céu procurando a lua,&lt;br /&gt;Que esta noite me abandonou;&lt;br /&gt;Deixando sozinho esse pobre coitado,&lt;br /&gt;Que tem nos seus versos os lamentos passados&lt;br /&gt;E, a lembrança dos beijos que nunca beijou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ERIBERTO HENRIQUE&lt;/em&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/7337992970873723208-6102011035842765472?l=pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/6102011035842765472/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2008/12/assim-agora-me-vevo-escrever-versos-que.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/6102011035842765472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7337992970873723208/posts/default/6102011035842765472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pretopobrepoeta.blogspot.com/2008/12/assim-agora-me-vevo-escrever-versos-que.html' title=''/><author><name>poetanegro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11839692147187574744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SVErObpqTMI/AAAAAAAAAAM/gxsVSqikOto/S220/DSC00002.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QCMmwqqNjKg/SfpSBKCb6SI/AAAAAAAAAEw/A-Oyb4tRBUw/s72-c/BXK32456_lagrima800.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
