<?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-4193584029443794569</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:34:33.598-07:00</updated><title type='text'>COMETA INSPIRAÇÃO</title><subtitle type='html'>Havia muito tempo que a vontade de publicar as "coisas" que eu escrevo, vivia perturbando e frustando a minha vida. Após várias tentativas em formatar um livro e enveredar pelo mundo das letras desistia pelo medo da forma de como iriam receber, perceber e interpretar as minhas composições. Hoje, através desta ferramenta tecnológica, virtual, solitária e expansiva, oferto a vocês as minhas criações, para que possam apreciar, comentar e quem sabe recomendar!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>22</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4193584029443794569.post-2353521484787140543</id><published>2008-12-09T16:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T16:11:16.942-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A face fria da dor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Um beijo jogado ao vento...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Destino?&lt;br /&gt;Teu colo quente,&lt;br /&gt;Teu seio esquerdo ardente.&lt;br /&gt;Que me aquece, embriaga e enobrece,&lt;br /&gt;Por ser teu ser amante,&lt;br /&gt;Que vive uma vida inconstante&lt;br /&gt;Marcada com o ferro quente do amor,&lt;br /&gt;Que sente na pele a face fria da dor,&lt;br /&gt;Da dor de se dar&lt;br /&gt;Em todas as formas de amar!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4193584029443794569-2353521484787140543?l=estaciopicanco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/2353521484787140543/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4193584029443794569&amp;postID=2353521484787140543&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/2353521484787140543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/2353521484787140543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/2008/12/face-fria-da-dor.html' title='A face fria da dor'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4193584029443794569.post-9155068189981430418</id><published>2008-11-13T06:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T06:36:16.374-08:00</updated><title type='text'>DOIS ATOS DO FIM DE UMA PAIXÃO</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;O sentido negro que a tua voz emprega,&lt;br /&gt;sobre os nossos sonhos agora suprimidos,&lt;br /&gt;do nosso passado agora só nos resta,&lt;br /&gt;apenas os lamentos do ”nunca ter vivido”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O meu pedido foi a verdade pura,&lt;br /&gt;por favor, não vá! Te implorei em gemido.&lt;br /&gt;Humilhante e zombeteiro foi o primeiro ato,&lt;br /&gt;encerrado elegante com teu partir sorrindo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O nosso show começa quando a cortina desce&lt;br /&gt;a platéia some com o verbo surgindo.&lt;br /&gt;Com os rostos limpos a verdade impera&lt;br /&gt;a encenação já não faz mais sentido&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O teu pedido foi a verdade pura,&lt;br /&gt;por favor me deixe! Num pedido aborrecido.&lt;br /&gt;A tua companhia pra mim já não interessa,&lt;br /&gt;vergonha e tristeza há muito estão me consumindo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E eu parti contente sozinho pelo mundo,&lt;br /&gt;Podendo ser melhor do que realmente era&lt;br /&gt;Serenamente o último ato encerrando,&lt;br /&gt;com a mais simples e gostosa das quimeras!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4193584029443794569-9155068189981430418?l=estaciopicanco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/9155068189981430418/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4193584029443794569&amp;postID=9155068189981430418&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/9155068189981430418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/9155068189981430418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/2008/11/dois-atos-do-fim-de-uma-paixo.html' title='DOIS ATOS DO FIM DE UMA PAIXÃO'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4193584029443794569.post-7160053911725990607</id><published>2008-11-09T05:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T06:32:37.605-08:00</updated><title type='text'>DE FRENTE PRO NADA</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SRb0VqO_oEI/AAAAAAAAACw/JS1MtVbzed0/s1600-h/BALUARTE.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266665467207983170" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 182px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SRb0VqO_oEI/AAAAAAAAACw/JS1MtVbzed0/s320/BALUARTE.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sentado a beira do rio,&lt;br /&gt;de frente pro nada,&lt;br /&gt;pois mais nada importa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bruma que vaga,&lt;br /&gt;o vento que leva,&lt;br /&gt;o som do silêncio&lt;br /&gt;que sinto passar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saudades que eu sinto,&lt;br /&gt;da cor dos teus beijos,&lt;br /&gt;do sabor dos teus olhos,&lt;br /&gt;do teu sorriso gostoso a insinuar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pecados calientes&lt;br /&gt;na minha mente vazia,&lt;br /&gt;sonhando sozinha,&lt;br /&gt;escoando pro mar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Verdades lacradas,&lt;br /&gt;mentiras abertas,&lt;br /&gt;maresia batendo&lt;br /&gt;pra me despertar.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4193584029443794569-7160053911725990607?l=estaciopicanco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/7160053911725990607/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4193584029443794569&amp;postID=7160053911725990607&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/7160053911725990607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/7160053911725990607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/2008/11/de-frente-pro-nada.html' title='DE FRENTE PRO NADA'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SRb0VqO_oEI/AAAAAAAAACw/JS1MtVbzed0/s72-c/BALUARTE.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4193584029443794569.post-8144998411704693560</id><published>2008-05-16T14:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T14:12:12.055-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ESPELHO</title><content type='html'>Havia muito tempo&lt;br /&gt;no meu peito amargo,&lt;br /&gt;necessidade de ver-te assim feliz!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas por quê espelho ingranto&lt;br /&gt;não refletes a felicidade da alma?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mostra-me somente a minha cara amarga,&lt;br /&gt;quedas de cachaça&lt;br /&gt;e rasteiras da vida...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sentimentos concretos,&lt;br /&gt;irrefletíveis num rosto tão abstrato.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4193584029443794569-8144998411704693560?l=estaciopicanco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/8144998411704693560/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4193584029443794569&amp;postID=8144998411704693560&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/8144998411704693560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/8144998411704693560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/2008/05/espelho.html' title='ESPELHO'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4193584029443794569.post-5309792445745279178</id><published>2008-05-16T13:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T14:00:40.129-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MORENA QUE PASSA</title><content type='html'>Morena que passa e que olha,&lt;br /&gt;mas que por orgulho não vê,&lt;br /&gt;que o seu desprezo não é nada&lt;br /&gt;perto do meu amor por você.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morena que passa imponente,&lt;br /&gt;com esse corpo estonteante,&lt;br /&gt;enche meus olhos de desejo&lt;br /&gt;como as marés de lançante.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quero tudo de você ó morena!&lt;br /&gt;Adoro teus cabelos-cipós,&lt;br /&gt;amo teus lábios de Iracema.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teu sorriso preamar é de amar,&lt;br /&gt;teu jeito de pureza, inocência.&lt;br /&gt;Teus olhos, pérolas do mar, Iemanjá, morena.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4193584029443794569-5309792445745279178?l=estaciopicanco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/5309792445745279178/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4193584029443794569&amp;postID=5309792445745279178&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/5309792445745279178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/5309792445745279178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/2008/05/morena-que-passa.html' title='MORENA QUE PASSA'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4193584029443794569.post-1272964802384020176</id><published>2008-05-16T13:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T13:48:06.543-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FILHO DO NORTE</title><content type='html'>Meu coração de guerreiro,&lt;br /&gt;de brasileiro festeiro,&lt;br /&gt;trabalhador costumaz,&lt;br /&gt;se envolve com essa vida&lt;br /&gt;tão injusta, decidida&lt;br /&gt;em nos fazer sofrer demais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meu coração de Cabano,&lt;br /&gt;luta corajosamente,&lt;br /&gt;faz revoluções no querer.&lt;br /&gt;Vou querendo e nessa lida,&lt;br /&gt;só quero o melhor que a vida&lt;br /&gt;tem a nos oferecer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sou amapaense sem sorte,&lt;br /&gt;sou mais um filho do norte&lt;br /&gt;devoto de Nazaré.&lt;br /&gt;Sou índio, sou negro, sou branco,&lt;br /&gt;fantocheado por uns "santos"&lt;br /&gt;que abusam de nossa fé...&lt;br /&gt;Rogai por nós São José!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4193584029443794569-1272964802384020176?l=estaciopicanco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/1272964802384020176/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4193584029443794569&amp;postID=1272964802384020176&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/1272964802384020176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/1272964802384020176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/2008/05/filho-do-norte.html' title='FILHO DO NORTE'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4193584029443794569.post-5162057548730785269</id><published>2008-05-16T13:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T13:35:23.755-07:00</updated><title type='text'>RESSACA</title><content type='html'>O mar que minha alma banha,&lt;br /&gt;passa em minha mente&lt;br /&gt;com vagas brancas e lentas&lt;br /&gt;quando estou em paz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas se algo me faz sofrer,&lt;br /&gt;o mar da alma se enfurece,&lt;br /&gt;meus pensamentos tornam-se tormentas,&lt;br /&gt;a cabeça não pensa&lt;br /&gt;e o corpo padece,&lt;br /&gt;e meu mar amanhece&lt;br /&gt;com violenta ressaca!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4193584029443794569-5162057548730785269?l=estaciopicanco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/5162057548730785269/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4193584029443794569&amp;postID=5162057548730785269&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/5162057548730785269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/5162057548730785269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/2008/05/ressaca.html' title='RESSACA'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4193584029443794569.post-3540406598323127694</id><published>2008-05-16T13:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T13:30:51.888-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PIRACEMA DE ÓDIOS</title><content type='html'>Quando o meu amor utópico&lt;br /&gt;desfez-se em álcool&lt;br /&gt;e somente em um gole&lt;br /&gt;eu o consumí,&lt;br /&gt;minha vida tornou-se&lt;br /&gt;um rio de revoltas&lt;br /&gt;e uma piracema de ódios&lt;br /&gt;tomou conta de mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Magoava por prazer&lt;br /&gt;a quem me amava,&lt;br /&gt;entre obsessão e cólera&lt;br /&gt;me dividí,&lt;br /&gt;perdí a família, perdí os amigos,&lt;br /&gt;quando a piracema de ódios&lt;br /&gt;tomou conta de mim.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4193584029443794569-3540406598323127694?l=estaciopicanco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/3540406598323127694/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4193584029443794569&amp;postID=3540406598323127694&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/3540406598323127694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/3540406598323127694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/2008/05/piracema-de-dios.html' title='PIRACEMA DE ÓDIOS'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4193584029443794569.post-6492884613075435149</id><published>2008-05-16T13:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T13:24:17.055-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MISTÉRIOS</title><content type='html'>Nesta terra redonda&lt;br /&gt;que roda e enrola&lt;br /&gt;a linha do destino,&lt;br /&gt;pairam mistérios&lt;br /&gt;sobre a vida e a morte.&lt;br /&gt;Nos olhos de um homem&lt;br /&gt;no fim do espaço&lt;br /&gt;se esconde a verdade&lt;br /&gt;da criação do infinito&lt;br /&gt;onde seu fim nunca foi visto&lt;br /&gt;e o seu começo também.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4193584029443794569-6492884613075435149?l=estaciopicanco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/6492884613075435149/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4193584029443794569&amp;postID=6492884613075435149&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/6492884613075435149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/6492884613075435149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/2008/05/mistrios.html' title='MISTÉRIOS'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4193584029443794569.post-2203286914078347709</id><published>2008-05-15T14:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T14:27:14.193-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sol de Agosto</title><content type='html'>Ainda é sol de agosto,&lt;br /&gt;dezembro não tarda trazendo chuva consigo.&lt;br /&gt;Meus amigos vão passando&lt;br /&gt;e eu cada vez mais sozinho.&lt;br /&gt;Pouca alegria, pouco amor, muita dor,&lt;br /&gt;de tudo o que eu gosto muito pouco...&lt;br /&gt;E ainda dizem que vaso ruim não quebra fácil!&lt;br /&gt;Talvez não quebre mesmo,&lt;br /&gt; mas que racha, racha!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4193584029443794569-2203286914078347709?l=estaciopicanco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/2203286914078347709/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4193584029443794569&amp;postID=2203286914078347709&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/2203286914078347709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/2203286914078347709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/2008/05/sol-de-agosto.html' title='Sol de Agosto'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4193584029443794569.post-3957450519157376813</id><published>2008-05-15T14:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T14:21:06.274-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Contradição?</title><content type='html'>Você vive me pedindo&lt;br /&gt;que eu lhe dê mais carinho.&lt;br /&gt;desculpa meu amor,&lt;br /&gt;mas eu só sei amar sozinho!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você insiste em querer&lt;br /&gt;me ouvir dizer, "te amo"!&lt;br /&gt;desculpa meu amor,&lt;br /&gt;eu prefiro o ditado que diz:&lt;br /&gt;"Em boca fechada não entra mosca"!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4193584029443794569-3957450519157376813?l=estaciopicanco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/3957450519157376813/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4193584029443794569&amp;postID=3957450519157376813&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/3957450519157376813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/3957450519157376813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/2008/05/contradio.html' title='Contradição?'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4193584029443794569.post-4502490573563254891</id><published>2008-05-15T13:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T14:14:33.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CONSIDERAÇÕES SOBRE OS MEUS POEMAS</title><content type='html'>Existem várias formas, vários motivos que me levam a compor os meus poemas. Mas o certo é afirmar que tudo o que eu escrevo é a expressão daquilo que estou sentindo, daquilo que estou vivendo. Sendo assim, gosto de classificá-los de "Poemas Existenciais"! Curtos, longos, diretos, interpretativos, sempre dependendo da cauda do cometa...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4193584029443794569-4502490573563254891?l=estaciopicanco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/4502490573563254891/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4193584029443794569&amp;postID=4502490573563254891&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/4502490573563254891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/4502490573563254891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/2008/05/consideraes-sobre-os-meus-poemas.html' title='CONSIDERAÇÕES SOBRE OS MEUS POEMAS'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4193584029443794569.post-8506073272950091453</id><published>2008-04-24T15:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T15:42:25.078-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pra tí - Parte I</title><content type='html'>Garota me chama!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por quê tu reclamas das coisas que eu faço?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Garota não cala!&lt;br /&gt;Eu ouço a tua fala,&lt;br /&gt;tu bem sabes disso,&lt;br /&gt;mas meu compromisso sempre te abala...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teus cabelos negros,&lt;br /&gt;tua pele morena,&lt;br /&gt;com a cor da açucena&lt;br /&gt;pareces Iemanjá!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teu canto mavioso,&lt;br /&gt;teu cheiro de fêmea,&lt;br /&gt;teus olhos...&lt;br /&gt;Que pena eu não saber te amar!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meu jeito boêmio te tira do sério,&lt;br /&gt;te encho de mágoas, pelo que eu quero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te amo garota,&lt;br /&gt;tu bem sabes disso,&lt;br /&gt;mas meu compromisso não deixa mostrar!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4193584029443794569-8506073272950091453?l=estaciopicanco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/8506073272950091453/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4193584029443794569&amp;postID=8506073272950091453&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/8506073272950091453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/8506073272950091453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/2008/04/pra-t-parte-i.html' title='Pra tí - Parte I'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4193584029443794569.post-5738494848426426956</id><published>2008-04-24T15:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T15:25:50.887-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pra tí - Parte II</title><content type='html'>Te amo, te amo, te amo!&lt;br /&gt;Por quê insisto em não dizer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te amo de todas as formas,&lt;br /&gt;que a sua mente nem imagina,&lt;br /&gt;que o seu e nem o meu coração sentem,&lt;br /&gt;que os seus olhos não podem ver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te amo com o amor que o mar  tem pela lua,&lt;br /&gt;te amo com o amor que o poeta tem pela musa,&lt;br /&gt;te amo com o amor que o boêmio tem pela rua!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Te amo de uma forma não definida,&lt;br /&gt;um quadro surrealista,&lt;br /&gt;um mosaico de espinhos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meu amor não se traduz em palavras&lt;br /&gt;e talvez seja algo diferente de tudo...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas é uma vontade louca,&lt;br /&gt;arretada de te ter,&lt;br /&gt;que vai invadindo, consumindo,&lt;br /&gt;preenchendo o vazio&lt;br /&gt;do abismo do meu ser!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4193584029443794569-5738494848426426956?l=estaciopicanco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/5738494848426426956/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4193584029443794569&amp;postID=5738494848426426956&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/5738494848426426956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/5738494848426426956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/2008/04/pra-t-parte-ii.html' title='Pra tí - Parte II'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4193584029443794569.post-4889825928450957966</id><published>2008-04-24T14:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T15:49:51.681-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pra tí - Parte III</title><content type='html'>Eu ficava irrequieto quando você sussurrava o futuro em meu ouvido.&lt;br /&gt;Eu queria não estar certo,&lt;br /&gt;por saber que por mim, seus sonhos estavam se consumindo...&lt;br /&gt;Eu tentei mudar nosso mundo,&lt;br /&gt;quando assumí tudo o que eu havia feito de errado.&lt;br /&gt;Eu tentei mostrar como te amava,&lt;br /&gt;em versos simples,&lt;br /&gt;pois nunca dizia e insistia em te amar calado...&lt;br /&gt;Eu viví te mostrando quem eu realmente era,&lt;br /&gt;virtudes e defeitos.&lt;br /&gt;Sim, eu tentei mudar pra te agradar!&lt;br /&gt;Mas meus defeitos são marcantes&lt;br /&gt;e as virtudes insignificantes...&lt;br /&gt;Ninguém percebeu o esforço que eu fazia&lt;br /&gt;pra superar meu mal maior.&lt;br /&gt;Nem você, que estava a toda hora ao meu lado...&lt;br /&gt;Você foi reconstruir seus sonhos&lt;br /&gt;e eu me ví sem horizontes...&lt;br /&gt;Fiquei como Deus no começo de tudo,&lt;br /&gt;fiquei simplesmente,&lt;br /&gt;cercado pelo nada!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4193584029443794569-4889825928450957966?l=estaciopicanco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/4889825928450957966/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4193584029443794569&amp;postID=4889825928450957966&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/4889825928450957966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/4889825928450957966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/2008/04/pra-t-parte-iii.html' title='Pra tí - Parte III'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4193584029443794569.post-7988315702415004520</id><published>2008-04-24T14:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T14:52:36.498-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dentro, fora, dentro, fora...</title><content type='html'>Não tenho porquê procurar portas&lt;br /&gt;aonde não há mais saídas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não tenho porquê procurar saídas&lt;br /&gt;se há muito tempo estou fora...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não tenho porquê ficar fora&lt;br /&gt;se há abrigo para protegêr-me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De qualquer forma estarei sempre&lt;br /&gt;dentro,&lt;br /&gt;fora,&lt;br /&gt;dentro,&lt;br /&gt;fora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se o tempo passa&lt;br /&gt;e o mundo muda a toda hora,&lt;br /&gt;a vida se renova&lt;br /&gt;dentro,&lt;br /&gt;fora,&lt;br /&gt;dentro,&lt;br /&gt;fora...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4193584029443794569-7988315702415004520?l=estaciopicanco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/7988315702415004520/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4193584029443794569&amp;postID=7988315702415004520&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/7988315702415004520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/7988315702415004520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/2008/04/dentro-fora-dentro-fora.html' title='Dentro, fora, dentro, fora...'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4193584029443794569.post-8201774123458016200</id><published>2008-04-24T14:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T14:42:33.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eu Sozinho</title><content type='html'>Por quê me sinto tão sozinho?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andando pelas ruas da cidade com meus passos apressados,&lt;br /&gt;pessoas sorriem ao meu lado&lt;br /&gt;e eu sempre tão calado,&lt;br /&gt;sorrindo à vida que sorrí pra  mim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tudo está tão perto de mim&lt;br /&gt;e eu estou estou distante de todos!&lt;br /&gt;ninguém pensa o que eu penso,&lt;br /&gt;ninguém gosta do que eu gosto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andando pelas ruas da cidade com meus passos lentos,&lt;br /&gt;eu sou tão tímido de tudo, &lt;br /&gt;tão lento no amor solitário,&lt;br /&gt;procuro alguém que se interesse por mim,&lt;br /&gt;longe dos interesses banais.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Procuro apenas afinidade sexual!&lt;br /&gt;Momentos de prazer a dois,&lt;br /&gt;longe do "fazer amor",&lt;br /&gt;apenas satisfazer o que pouco me satisfaz...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não há ninguém aqui no quarto,&lt;br /&gt;o cigarro já acabou&lt;br /&gt;e o meu prazer chegou ao fim!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4193584029443794569-8201774123458016200?l=estaciopicanco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/8201774123458016200/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4193584029443794569&amp;postID=8201774123458016200&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/8201774123458016200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/8201774123458016200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/2008/04/eu-sozinho.html' title='Eu Sozinho'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4193584029443794569.post-6410376008408080687</id><published>2008-04-16T20:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T20:10:02.647-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MEU LIMBO</title><content type='html'>Meu limbo foi feito&lt;br /&gt;de promessas quebradas,&lt;br /&gt;mentiras contadas&lt;br /&gt;e de sonhos roubados.&lt;br /&gt;De pedaços de vida&lt;br /&gt;arrancados a força&lt;br /&gt;no escuro do quarto,&lt;br /&gt;na solidão da noite,&lt;br /&gt;em que eu partia sem ir,&lt;br /&gt;ver mil mundos estranhos,&lt;br /&gt;mil fatos estranhos&lt;br /&gt;e rir.&lt;br /&gt;Achar graça de tudo&lt;br /&gt;com a leveza na alma&lt;br /&gt;mas não conseguí&lt;br /&gt;ver que o medo era meu,&lt;br /&gt;ver que o erro foi meu,&lt;br /&gt;pois assim consentí,&lt;br /&gt;que o meu limbo brotasse&lt;br /&gt;na fase em que a face&lt;br /&gt;ao mundo sorri.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4193584029443794569-6410376008408080687?l=estaciopicanco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/6410376008408080687/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4193584029443794569&amp;postID=6410376008408080687&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/6410376008408080687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/6410376008408080687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/2008/04/meu-limbo.html' title='MEU LIMBO'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4193584029443794569.post-8302726816094035190</id><published>2008-04-16T18:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T19:01:56.606-07:00</updated><title type='text'>VERDADE</title><content type='html'>E eu que pensei que fossem&lt;br /&gt;apenas as minhas verdades&lt;br /&gt;as únicas a conterem a verdade.&lt;br /&gt;E eu que me julgava tão auto-suficiente,&lt;br /&gt;caí de joelhos&lt;br /&gt;após a queda de tudo em que eu acreditava.&lt;br /&gt;Juntar os cacos,&lt;br /&gt;reformular conceitos,&lt;br /&gt;acreditar na verdade dos outros&lt;br /&gt;e enchergar com outros olhos&lt;br /&gt;todas as mentiras que eu ignorei.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4193584029443794569-8302726816094035190?l=estaciopicanco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/8302726816094035190/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4193584029443794569&amp;postID=8302726816094035190&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/8302726816094035190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/8302726816094035190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/2008/04/verdade.html' title='VERDADE'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4193584029443794569.post-2237888994754171976</id><published>2008-04-16T18:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T18:55:22.159-07:00</updated><title type='text'>RETRATO</title><content type='html'>Já causei sofrimentos,&lt;br /&gt;por este motivo, sofrí.&lt;br /&gt;Já fui motivo de alegrias,&lt;br /&gt;fiquei alegre também.&lt;br /&gt;Já viví muitas vitórias,&lt;br /&gt;mas também amarguei com as derrotas.&lt;br /&gt;Já tive amigos sinceros,&lt;br /&gt;mas também inimigos ferrenhos.&lt;br /&gt;Já amei e fui amado&lt;br /&gt;outras amei e fui desprezado.&lt;br /&gt;Já amei muitas ao mesmo tempo&lt;br /&gt;hoje, só tenho amor para uma.&lt;br /&gt;Tenho calos secos na alma&lt;br /&gt;e muita alma pra calejar.&lt;br /&gt;Mas hoje eu vivo,&lt;br /&gt;sofro, alegre,&lt;br /&gt;ganhando, perdendo...&lt;br /&gt;Vivo sincero no tempo amando uma!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4193584029443794569-2237888994754171976?l=estaciopicanco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/2237888994754171976/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4193584029443794569&amp;postID=2237888994754171976&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/2237888994754171976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/2237888994754171976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/2008/04/retrato.html' title='RETRATO'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4193584029443794569.post-1424806006833525599</id><published>2008-04-16T18:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T18:47:22.055-07:00</updated><title type='text'>EU POETA</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Meu mundo é pequeno,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;minha vida é simples&lt;br /&gt;e minhas capacidades limitadas.&lt;br /&gt;Não reclamo,&lt;br /&gt;não choro,&lt;br /&gt;simplesmente me policio.&lt;br /&gt;Adoro tudo que é bom,&lt;br /&gt;amo tudo que é belo,&lt;br /&gt;mas nem tudo que eu quero eu posso...&lt;br /&gt;Me consumo com as adversidades da vida.&lt;br /&gt;Eu sofro por mim,&lt;br /&gt;eu sofro por todos.&lt;br /&gt;Geralmente acordo às tragadas&lt;br /&gt;e durmo às doses&lt;br /&gt;com o semblante sereno,&lt;br /&gt;pensamentos infinitos,&lt;br /&gt;aguardando por tí,&lt;br /&gt;Cometa Inspiração!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4193584029443794569-1424806006833525599?l=estaciopicanco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/1424806006833525599/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4193584029443794569&amp;postID=1424806006833525599&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/1424806006833525599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/1424806006833525599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/2008/04/eu-poeta.html' title='EU POETA'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4193584029443794569.post-5152710471607223898</id><published>2008-04-16T17:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T18:10:29.488-07:00</updated><title type='text'>E de repente, o silêncio fez-se verbo!</title><content type='html'>Havia muito tempo que a vontade de publicar as "coisas" que eu escrevo, vivia perturbando e trazendo certa frustação à minha vida. Várias foram as tentativas de tentar formatar um livro, publicá-lo e enveredar pelo mundo das letras. Mas o medo da forma como as pessoas iriam receber, perceber e interpretar as minhas composições, sempre foram minguando a idéia de compartilhá-las.&lt;br /&gt;Hoje, através desta ferramenta tecnológica, virtual(?), solitária(?) e expansiva (isso é verdade!), oferto primeiramente aos meus amigos, as minhas criações, que tiveram início ainda na minha adolescência, para que vocês possam apreciar, comentar e quem sabe recomendar...&lt;br /&gt;Agora vamos ao que interessa!&lt;br /&gt;Boa noite!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4193584029443794569-5152710471607223898?l=estaciopicanco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/feeds/5152710471607223898/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4193584029443794569&amp;postID=5152710471607223898&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/5152710471607223898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4193584029443794569/posts/default/5152710471607223898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://estaciopicanco.blogspot.com/2008/04/e-de-repente-o-silncio-fez-se-verbo.html' title='E de repente, o silêncio fez-se verbo!'/><author><name>Estácio Picanço</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09749750471467117612</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_yTXkba0dqgI/SAal6GPZFYI/AAAAAAAAABo/uePicdWW1pI/S220/Imagem+005.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
