tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76600567344580276782012-01-28T17:12:11.237-02:00O Caminho MeuPoesia e fotografiaLuis Limahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16490339788294933073noreply@blogger.comBlogger131100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660056734458027678.post-72386371567752249512012-01-26T18:45:00.000-02:002012-01-27T02:47:47.296-02:00Meu coração<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QbC45mojWLE/TyG62vatwYI/AAAAAAAAAQw/V9IQc2g6qAA/s1600/243892_174494855940752_100001407153829_430973_1974539_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QbC45mojWLE/TyG62vatwYI/AAAAAAAAAQw/V9IQc2g6qAA/s320/243892_174494855940752_100001407153829_430973_1974539_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal">meu coração<br />bate sem saber<br />que meu peito é uma porta<br />que ninguém vai atender<br /><br />quem sente<br />agora está ausente<br />quem chora<br />agora está por fora<br />quem ama<br />agora está na cama<br />doente<br />só corre e nunca chega na frente<br />se chega é pra dizer: vou embora<br />sorriso não me deixa contente<br /><br />e todas as pessoas que falam<br />pra me consolar<br />parecem um bocado de bocas<br />se abrindo e fechando<br />sem ninguém pra dublar<br />eu já disse adeus<br />antes mesmo de alguém me chamar<br />não sirvo pra quem dá conselho<br />quebrei o espelho<br />torci o joelho<br />não vou mais jogar<br /><br />meu coração<br />bate sem saber<br />que meu peito é uma porta<br />que ninguém vai atender<br /><br /><br />(Arnaldo Antunes / Ortinho)<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Foto por <a href="http://www.impressoesvirtuais.blogspot.com/">Lu Gastão</a></span></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #76a5af;">Bem, como prometido, estou de volta com o blog. E com um visual novo!!!</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #76a5af;">Faltam alguns detalhes, mas eu já estou botando "O Caminho Meu" em ordem. Tentarei postar uma vez por semana. E depois veremos onde isso vai dar.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #76a5af;">E pra recomeçar, uma música do <a href="http://www.arnaldoantunes.com.br/">Arnaldo Antunes</a> (eu adoro essa letra). Eu estava ouvindo ela ontem e me deu uma vontade imensa de colocar ela aqui. O que acabou virando um start para eu voltar com o blog.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #76a5af;">Sejam bem vindos! E apreciem sem moderação. </span></b><br /><b><span style="color: #76a5af;">Prometo que em breve uma poesia fresquinha estará enfeitando essa página.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7660056734458027678-7238637156775224951?l=ocaminhomeu.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Luis Limahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16490339788294933073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660056734458027678.post-35493275774442405752010-05-15T16:41:00.006-03:002012-01-02T19:57:33.751-02:00Outono<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/S-75EnSbIvI/AAAAAAAAAOg/QXKfJ13mZjM/s1600/japao.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471584454962782962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/S-75EnSbIvI/AAAAAAAAAOg/QXKfJ13mZjM/s320/japao.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Hoje só</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Distante do mundo</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">De todos</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Perdido na inconsequência</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Mal que me leva e não me traz</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Hoje só</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Lamento de tudo</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Por todos</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Perdido, sou a incompetência</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Que me toma e me desfaz</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Hoje me perco só</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Sem rabisco</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Sem fotografia</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Sem minha pobre poesia</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Sem esperança, nem vida</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">Vou me encolher em minha insignificância</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">E abraçar o frio que nem esse dia de sol consegue aquecer</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"><br /></span><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;">Luis Lima</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;">15,maio,2010</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;">Mal de outono - Itatiaia -RJ</span> </div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7660056734458027678-3549327577444240575?l=ocaminhomeu.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Luis Limahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16490339788294933073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660056734458027678.post-446285007838964912009-08-27T19:04:00.007-03:002012-01-28T17:12:11.246-02:00Beijo<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/SpcJ2MesblI/AAAAAAAAANg/mco86gof4sc/s1600-h/album.lindona.1+061.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374775506957528658" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/SpcJ2MesblI/AAAAAAAAANg/mco86gof4sc/s320/album.lindona.1+061.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /></a> <br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">E de teus lábios,</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">assim que os meus puderem tocá-los,</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">verás que até o racional</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">torna-se relativo.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">E terás, como eu,</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">a impressão de que o corpo volita </span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">em um mundo estático,</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">onde o impulso é estimulado pela imensa troca de energia.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">E ainda de olhos fechados</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">desejarás não abri-los,</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">recusando o desfecho,</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">por saber que nesse momemto,</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">logo após tua boca desencontrar a minha,</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">tudo voltará a sua normalidade racional.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span">Luis Lima</span></i></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span">Itatiaia, 07 de setembro de 2003</span></i></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7660056734458027678-44628500783896491?l=ocaminhomeu.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Luis Limahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16490339788294933073noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660056734458027678.post-76081852032819617482009-08-11T11:14:00.011-03:002012-01-28T16:59:08.685-02:00Marcella<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/SoGGKGyjpII/AAAAAAAAAMo/UMzNJNG3-5Q/s1600-h/lindona.pb.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368719738981819522" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/SoGGKGyjpII/AAAAAAAAAMo/UMzNJNG3-5Q/s320/lindona.pb.JPG" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0000ee;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #99ffff;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">para Marcella Dias</span></span></span></i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Parei assim que avistei</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Seus olhos a me escoltar</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Nela a mais do que sei</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mais que ternura</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">É uma beleza explícita</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">De emudecer o olhar</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Há mais que palavras nela</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mais que música</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Eu sei, irá rodar o mundo</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Deixará seu cheiro no ar, em tudo</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Voltará pra achar tudo um absurdo</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">E tomar o seu lugar</span><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;">Luis Lima</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;">depois publico a data</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;">Saudosismo caseiro - Itatiaia - RJ</span></i><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span"><i>*Canção</i></span></span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span"><i>Foto por Marcella Dias</i></span></span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7660056734458027678-7608185203281961748?l=ocaminhomeu.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Luis Limahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16490339788294933073noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660056734458027678.post-83256896094761735902009-08-11T10:52:00.002-03:002012-01-28T17:01:12.272-02:00Tarde<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/SoF38KDZcpI/AAAAAAAAAL4/ZctvyIOJfE4/s1600-h/matutu+2009+by+japao+%28355%29.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368704106176803474" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/SoF38KDZcpI/AAAAAAAAAL4/ZctvyIOJfE4/s320/matutu+2009+by+japao+%28355%29.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A melhor coisa que já me aconteceu</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Faz tempo</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Num parque</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Os sons nas mãos</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">E a música em seu olhar</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Era a tarde do início</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mas com o velho fascínio</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">O nosso bom e eterno jeito de amar.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">O melhor dia que já me aconteceu</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Passou o tempo</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Faz parte</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Dançávamos sãos</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sem previsão de dispersar</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Era o começo, explícito</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Por todos era visto</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Esse nosso bom e sincero jeito de amar.</span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;">Luis Lima</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;">10, agosto, 2009</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;">Nostálgica tarde - Penedo - Iatatiaia - RJ</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: 100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><span style="font-size: 13px;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><i>Foto por mim</i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7660056734458027678-8325689609476173590?l=ocaminhomeu.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Luis Limahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16490339788294933073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660056734458027678.post-3212197555121613862009-07-28T11:49:00.002-03:002012-01-28T17:02:49.470-02:00Passa Tempo<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/Sm8QNmx5GBI/AAAAAAAAALw/1diBxykKSg4/s1600-h/matutu+2009+by+japao+%2837%29.light.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363523507155703826" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/Sm8QNmx5GBI/AAAAAAAAALw/1diBxykKSg4/s320/matutu+2009+by+japao+%2837%29.light.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Eita tempo que passa sem parar!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Eita...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A gente passa</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sem perceber</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A gente muda</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sem notar</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A gente briga</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sem ver</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A gente beija</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Se beija.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">E o tempo passa</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mesmo quando deveria parar</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Quando não deveria existir</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">(quando estou com você)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ah, nessa hora eu queria ser o Dono do Tempo</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Senhor das Horas</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ou qualquer outra coisa que fizesse os minutos</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">(que estou ao seu lado)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Serem eternos.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">E a passar, continua o tempo</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Até mesmo quando você não me dá atenção</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">E é nesse momento que eu queria que ele</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">(o tempo)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Voasse</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Acelerasse</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Tão rápido que...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Quando for embora</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Vou querer que o tempo morra</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Junto com meu coração</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Minha alma</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Minha inspiração</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">E que eu possa renascer</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">(no tempo certo)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Do amor</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">De todo amor que sinto por você.</span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;">Luis Lima</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;">depois publico a data</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;">Itatiaia-RJ</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;"><i>Foto por Luis Lima</i></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7660056734458027678-321219755512161386?l=ocaminhomeu.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Luis Limahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16490339788294933073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660056734458027678.post-5392353577997155212009-07-28T11:34:00.001-03:002012-01-28T17:03:23.527-02:00Interrupção (Linda)<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/Sm8OuwzMfTI/AAAAAAAAALo/MqZv6K-kBZM/s1600-h/album.lindona.1+076.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363521877757951282" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/Sm8OuwzMfTI/AAAAAAAAALo/MqZv6K-kBZM/s320/album.lindona.1+076.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a> <br /><div style="text-align: center;">Foi em quem não lhe teve <br /><div>Que eu vi a mãe</div><div>A esposa</div><div>Na infinitude do que seríamos nós</div><div><br /></div><div>Sou quem não se obteve</div><div>Que choraminga "são"</div><div>A escolha</div><div>Na infinitude de que seríamos nós</div><div><br /></div><div>Se eu não sonhasse</div><div>Talvez seria normal</div><div>Se eu não sentisse</div><div>Caso, não veria o caos</div><div></div><div>Linda, e se você viesse?</div><div>Acho que eu não estaria mal</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;">Luis Lima</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;">22 e 28, julho, 2009</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;">Penedo - Itatiaia - RJ</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><i><br /></i></span><br /><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><i>Foto por Marcella Dias</i></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7660056734458027678-539235357799715521?l=ocaminhomeu.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Luis Limahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16490339788294933073noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660056734458027678.post-76397317210359264642009-07-28T10:42:00.003-03:002012-01-28T17:05:11.676-02:00Vazio<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/Sm8AwgF6OZI/AAAAAAAAALg/UE1z9dHKJBQ/s1600-h/SDC10624.pb.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363506514469992850" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/Sm8AwgF6OZI/AAAAAAAAALg/UE1z9dHKJBQ/s320/SDC10624.pb.JPG" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 238px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Quero saber quanto tempo falta pra te esquecer</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Quero saber quanto tempo falta pra te esquecer</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Pra preencher de vez esse vazio</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Por outro de não querer mais você</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Por um novo sentido</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Um motivo</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Pra levantar às seis</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ou se deitar às dez</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ou se matar às três.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';">*Canção</span></i></span></b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';">Foto por Marcelo Dertonio</span></i></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Letra: Lu Lopes e Angelo Tramezzino</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Música: Alexandre Pereira e Luis Lima</span></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #76a5af; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Em um dia, que já nem me lembro qual, resolvemos compor... </b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #76a5af; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Éramos quatro poetas embriagados de inspiração... e deixamos a melancolia transbordar na euforia da composição.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #76a5af; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Uma triste canção nasceu. Triste e bela.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #76a5af; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Espero poder, logo, colocá-la aqui em áudio.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #76a5af; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>E apesar de ser um pouco suicida, demos boas risadas compondo essa canção.</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7660056734458027678-7639731721035926464?l=ocaminhomeu.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Luis Limahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16490339788294933073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660056734458027678.post-15607826342611105372009-07-21T15:42:00.001-03:002012-01-28T17:07:54.246-02:00A Fúria da Beleza<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/SmYMKetsvAI/AAAAAAAAALY/dZWf51HomDA/s1600-h/ATcAAACmkBTxs6AIHDmBYddsHG2TV57cZMVOqSc1GcWPB9OMn3lgumqbv4pICBJF7kQN_nSWI4lVXYayt-QQODLZKcgwAJtU9VBrxJpQ9lUbLBYj_YABZ3Zj4u62Zw.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360985780614118402" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/SmYMKetsvAI/AAAAAAAAALY/dZWf51HomDA/s320/ATcAAACmkBTxs6AIHDmBYddsHG2TV57cZMVOqSc1GcWPB9OMn3lgumqbv4pICBJF7kQN_nSWI4lVXYayt-QQODLZKcgwAJtU9VBrxJpQ9lUbLBYj_YABZ3Zj4u62Zw.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Vou cantar pra você a minha dor</div><div style="text-align: center;">Você sabe, eu sei, mas está tão diferente amor</div><div style="text-align: center;">A Beleza se foi, me deixou o rancor</div><div style="text-align: center;">Confesso, me tornei coisa sem valor</div><div style="text-align: center;">E sem perdão estou.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Vou contar pra você por onde vou</div><div style="text-align: center;">Sinto-me falecer a cada segundo que aqui sou</div><div style="text-align: center;">Cama sem você, o sentido acabou</div><div style="text-align: center;">Entendo, mas não sei se viver eu vou</div><div style="text-align: center;">Sem você amor.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';">Luis Lima</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';">26, junho, 2009</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';">Itatiaia - RJ</span></i></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;"><i>*Canção</i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;"><i>Foto por Marcella Dias</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black; font-family: 'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #76a5af; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>O título desta canção é em homenagem a Elisa Lucinda.</b></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #76a5af; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Esse é o título de uma poesia sua (que também dá nome ao livro).</b></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #76a5af; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>Adorei a frase! Acho que traz infinitas possibilidades.</b></span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #76a5af; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>"A Fúria da Beleza" pode ser algo bom ou ruim,feliz ou triste... mas nunca deixará de ser bela.</b></span></div></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7660056734458027678-1560782634261110537?l=ocaminhomeu.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Luis Limahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16490339788294933073noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660056734458027678.post-22513804248257280652009-07-21T15:36:00.003-03:002012-01-28T17:08:37.622-02:00Despedida<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/SmYK920rQLI/AAAAAAAAALQ/v8owSzOr69g/s1600-h/matutu+2009+by+japao+%2873%29.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360984464235905202" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/SmYK920rQLI/AAAAAAAAALQ/v8owSzOr69g/s320/matutu+2009+by+japao+%2873%29.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A Beleza foi embora e, com ela, tudo se foi... </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A alegria do canto, o acalanto </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">E o espanto de ser tão feliz ao despertar</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Se foi a cor daquele beijo </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Se foi a paz e todo almejo</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">E a escolta daquele olhar </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Não, não haverá mais música </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Não haverá mais a dança</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Nem haverá mais carnaval</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A lembrança passa a ser dura</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Corta a carne, desfigura</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">E transforma tudo o que foi bom em mal</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">A Beleza se foi</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">E, com ela, tudo de bom em mim também.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"><br /></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"><br /></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;">Luis Lima</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;">Inverno em meu peito, 25, junho, 2009</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;">Penedo, Itatiaia - RJ</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;"><i>Foto por mim</i></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7660056734458027678-2251380424825728065?l=ocaminhomeu.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Luis Limahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16490339788294933073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660056734458027678.post-16506234728621590302009-07-17T05:23:00.001-03:002012-01-27T02:16:39.331-02:00Minha Casa<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/SmA28sg_mLI/AAAAAAAAALI/D4MeZptErSA/s1600-h/matutu+2009+by+japao+(244).jpg"><span style="color: black;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359343972940486834" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/SmA28sg_mLI/AAAAAAAAALI/D4MeZptErSA/s320/matutu+2009+by+japao+(244).jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></span></a><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman'; font-size: x-small;"></span><br /><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">é mais fácil cultuar os mortos que os vivos</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">mais fácil viver de sombras que de sóis</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">é mais fácil mimeografar o passado</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">que imprimir o futuro</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">não quero ser triste</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">como o poeta que envelhece</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">lendo maiakóvski na loja de conveniência</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">não quero ser alegre</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">como o cão que sai a passear com o seu dono alegre</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">sob o sol de domingo</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">nem quero ser estanque</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">como quem constrói estradas e não anda</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">quero no escuro</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">como um cego tatear estrelas distraídas</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">minha casa</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">amoras silvestres no passeio público</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">amores secretos debaixo dos guarda-chuvas</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">tempestades que não param</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">pára-raios quem não tem</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">mesmo que não venha o trem não posso parar</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">veja o mundo passar como passa</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">uma escola de samba que atravessa</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">pergunto onde estão teus tamborins</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">pergunto onde estão teus tamborins</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">sentado na porta de minha casa</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">a mesma e única casa</span></span></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman'; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;">a casa onde eu sempre morei</span> </span></pre><pre class="style1" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></pre><pre class="style1" style="font-family: 'Arial Unicode MS'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small; white-space: normal;">(Zeca Baleiro)</span><br /></pre><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;">Foto por mim </span></i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #76a5af; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>canção da estrada. apesar do aparente desencanto, é, aos meus olhos (e ouvidos) uma canção de esperança.</b></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7660056734458027678-1650623472862159030?l=ocaminhomeu.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Luis Limahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16490339788294933073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660056734458027678.post-38013190163160656422009-07-16T19:11:00.003-03:002012-01-28T17:09:35.670-02:00Jardim<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/SmA0MdZmL1I/AAAAAAAAAK4/tSXpMMibgoc/s1600-h/matutu+2009+by+japao+%28241%29.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359340945225953106" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/SmA0MdZmL1I/AAAAAAAAAK4/tSXpMMibgoc/s320/matutu+2009+by+japao+%28241%29.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Para sentir o perfume de minhas flores</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0.9pt 0cm 13.85pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">Terás que me compreender, me ver<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0.9pt 0cm 13.85pt;"><span style="font-size: small;">E quem sabe até me provar<o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="font-size: small;">Pois, meu jardim, eu carrego em mim.</span><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0.9pt 0cm 13.85pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0.9pt 0cm 13.85pt;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;">Luis Lima</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0.9pt 0cm 13.85pt;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;">"Não lembro a data"</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0.9pt 0cm 13.85pt;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;">Penedo - Itatiaia - RJ</span></i></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0.9pt 0cm 13.85pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0.9pt 0.0001pt 13.85pt; text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0.9pt 0.0001pt 13.85pt; text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: small;"><i>Foto por mim</i></span></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7660056734458027678-3801319016316065642?l=ocaminhomeu.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Luis Limahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16490339788294933073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7660056734458027678.post-57997541311941950702009-07-14T09:58:00.002-03:002012-01-26T19:21:34.093-02:00O Caminho Meu.<div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/SlyHfzYS2zI/AAAAAAAAAJU/mdiomgcQYlM/s1600-h/pe+na+estrada.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358306637101849394" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dl9mH5ynhag/SlyHfzYS2zI/AAAAAAAAAJU/mdiomgcQYlM/s320/pe+na+estrada.jpg" style="display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a> </div><div align="center">Já vou voltar pra casa</div><div align="center">Aqui não deu em nada, o meu querer</div><div align="center">Já vou voltar pra casa</div><div align="center">Por meu pé na estrada, que é pra eu me ver<br /><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Vou nesse caminho meu</div><div align="center">Que nem sempre amanheceu</div><div align="center">Mas muito me deu</div><div align="center">Vou nesse passo, devagar</div><div align="center">Quero ver onde vai dar</div><div align="center">O destino que nasceu </div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">Já vou voltar pra casa</div><div align="center">Pois não tem mais graça sobreviver</div><div align="center">Já vou voltar pra casa</div><div align="center">Pedra, pó e traça eu não quero ter </div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">Vou renovar o meu amor</div><div align="center">Reciclar aquela dor</div><div align="center">Transformá-la em alguma cor</div><div align="center">Vou, que esse moço já entendeu</div><div align="center">Que se a Terra se moveu</div><div align="center">Foi, demais, em meu favor</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">Já vou voltar pra casa</div><div align="center">Lá tem quem me abraça e eu volto a ser</div><div align="center">Já vou voltar pra casa</div><div align="center">Por o pé na estrada e renascer <br /><br /></div><div align="center"><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande';">Luis Lima<br />13, julho, 2009</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande';">Parque do Flamengo - RJ</span></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><br /></span></div><div align="center" style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><i>*Canção</i></span></div><div align="center" style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><i>Foto por mim</i></span></div><br /><br /><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7660056734458027678-5799754131194195070?l=ocaminhomeu.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Luis Limahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16490339788294933073noreply@blogger.com9