tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47680926048583568252024-03-08T13:13:21.405-04:00cantos, cabides, cartolas e cata-ventosTextos despretensiosos, alguns desabafos e rodopios...Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-32996016380952081912013-05-10T17:34:00.000-04:002013-05-10T17:48:12.046-04:00Poeminha de pé quebrado<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Andei por aí,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">meio distraída</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">e era tudo culpa</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">desse teu olhar.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Me escondia,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">tentando fingir,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">mas era ouvir teu nome,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">pra me condenar.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sozinha no quarto,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">eu me debatia:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">-Ai, meu Deus,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">que agonia!!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Nem reza braba</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">vai me salvar!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">E, agora,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">tá tudo acabado...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">meu coração tá apaixonado</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">e só pensa em te amar.</span><br />
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Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-15419284734914856012012-04-22T23:54:00.001-04:002012-04-22T23:54:53.611-04:00Janela<br />
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“Saiu correndo pelos campos, de braços abertos, livre, e
voava... era vento ... e, de repente, evaporava e se fazia nuvem a chover pelos
campos, entranhava as frestas, escorria pelas pedras e nadava velozmente pelo
mar... abraçou a areia, ergueu-se e fincou os pés como raízes na terra crua e o
sangue do mundo corria em suas veias... era sol, lua, fogo... era vida... era
mundo... e o universo se expandia em uma inspiração sem fim... e tudo era
lucidez...”</div>
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- Vamos, Laura, preste atenção! Deixe os sonhos fora da sala
de aula, porque tens uma vida para viver. </div>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-81542687266424401832011-11-05T10:15:00.001-04:002011-11-05T10:17:19.102-04:00Let me be your everlasting light...<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="233" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/-jr0194uC-M" width="400"></iframe>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-73714205443369203952011-04-25T08:29:00.000-04:002011-04-25T08:29:09.613-04:00Teu<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-meh4XWw_O0s/TbVnuCQZFvI/AAAAAAAAAQI/0DSvV8dNtmA/s1600/sunset_reflection_by_wolveskeeper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-meh4XWw_O0s/TbVnuCQZFvI/AAAAAAAAAQI/0DSvV8dNtmA/s320/sunset_reflection_by_wolveskeeper.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Semeio flores com as cores do entardecer e as embrulho em nuvens para te dar. O vento canta as tuas músicas ao pé do ouvido, para que tu (e apenas tu) possas escutar. O mar baila sobre as areias da praia e tu sorris. As pedras se aconchegam a ti e o mundo é todo teu, respirando profundamente ao teu ritmo, pulsa a tua vida.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="PT-BR">E as horas... essas, já não existem. <o:p></o:p></span></div></div>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-37996386639521116232011-04-13T00:02:00.001-04:002011-04-13T00:03:29.164-04:00Entra, meu amor, fica à vontade..<iframe title="YouTube video player" width="360" height="300" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ZGAb7b2MqYk" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-7425301915868489502011-04-12T23:54:00.000-04:002011-04-12T23:54:42.538-04:00Secreto<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wdDihfDtyjw/TaUeNlhlk_I/AAAAAAAAAPw/khZmGKjSKkk/s1600/back_by_nikolinelr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wdDihfDtyjw/TaUeNlhlk_I/AAAAAAAAAPw/khZmGKjSKkk/s320/back_by_nikolinelr.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Juntei silenciosamente as lágrimas do chão excessivamente limpo. Lá, elas não caberiam. E ainda não cabem em lugar algum. Trago-as comigo, no pranto silencioso que sangra no peito, no fundo dos olhos secos e nas pontas dos dedos frios.Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-69512998162439453982010-10-17T00:48:00.000-04:002010-10-17T00:48:12.379-04:00Cajuína<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">Existirmos: a que será que se destina?</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">Pois quando tu me deste a rosa pequenina</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">Vi que és um homem lindo e que se acaso a sina</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">Do menino infeliz não se nos ilumina</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">Tampouco turva-se a lágrima nordestina</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">Apenas a matéria vida era tão fina</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">E éramos olharmo-nos intacta retina</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">A cajuína cristalina em Teresina</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #555555; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></span><object height="250" width="400"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZaxDlDbMppE?fs=1&hl=pt_BR&rel=0&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZaxDlDbMppE?fs=1&hl=pt_BR&rel=0&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="250"></embed></object>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-89701978828154813692010-10-10T20:58:00.009-04:002010-10-11T11:42:58.402-04:00Despertar<div><br />
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</div><div>Ancorou-se à beira da praia, os pés fincados firmemente. Olhava carinhosamente o ir e vir das águas doces, negras. O vento sussurrava em seus ouvidos. A lua acariciava seu cabelos. Sabia que algo estava por vir... a terra lhe revelava segredos.</div><div>Abriu os braços como a plainar em vôo livre. Sentia-se efêmera como os grãos de areia que ali pisava. Porém, de repente, tudo fez sentido.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"></span></span></span>Limpou os pés, arrumou os cabelos, voltou para casa. No dia seguinte, calçou os sapatos ainda sujos de areia da noite anterior... o incômodo é lembrança viva do que leva no peito... a luz da verdade, no fundo dos olhos.</div>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-76170034218124517712009-10-20T11:32:00.003-04:002009-10-20T12:03:50.877-04:00Apatia<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/St3d4TnScMI/AAAAAAAAAOg/6nX0IzQn3B8/s1600-h/_apathy_by_Attaraxie.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 353px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/St3d4TnScMI/AAAAAAAAAOg/6nX0IzQn3B8/s400/_apathy_by_Attaraxie.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394711888067195074" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Raspava o papel com as unhas, tentando desenterrar segredos não escritos, mas nada ali havia. Forçava a mente em busca de novas idéias, mas nada ali se revelava. Nenhum pensamento, o escuro permanecia escuro, a luz se estabilizara. Apatia. Deixara de viver a partir daquele instante. O mundo é imutável.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div><br /></div>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-22354524319558171202009-09-07T19:07:00.005-04:002011-05-28T13:27:56.689-04:00Transcendência<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/SqWUWsbhsPI/AAAAAAAAAOY/MD5Fq_A1aEw/s1600-h/Blue_Morpho_by_nicoleminkin.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378868447568572658" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/SqWUWsbhsPI/AAAAAAAAAOY/MD5Fq_A1aEw/s400/Blue_Morpho_by_nicoleminkin.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; height: 400px; width: 300px;" /></a><br />
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</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Despediu-se. O mundo... não o veria mais com aqueles olhos. </span></span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Teceu em seu torno a própria tumba: Adeus! </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Renascida: era borboleta.</span></span></div>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-88202966301074136072009-09-02T22:09:00.012-04:002009-09-03T02:06:56.914-04:00Eu sei (Na Mira) - Marisa Monte<div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Um dia eu vou estar à toa</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Sp9Y1Z4eatI/AAAAAAAAAOA/1NxDhFHMniw/s1600-h/relax_by_eenah.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 283px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Sp9Y1Z4eatI/AAAAAAAAAOA/1NxDhFHMniw/s400/relax_by_eenah.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377114154607733458" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">E você vai estar na mira</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Sp9Y1C0sVoI/AAAAAAAAAN4/s_Qe11KbNMk/s1600-h/The_Target_by_ZerenToktas.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Sp9Y1C0sVoI/AAAAAAAAAN4/s_Qe11KbNMk/s400/The_Target_by_ZerenToktas.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377114148417853058" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Eu sei que você sabe</div><div style="text-align: center;">Que eu sei que você sabe</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Sp9X3qe0cDI/AAAAAAAAANo/_rsqGsfmZmM/s1600-h/Where_Are_You_Now__by_Iza87.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Sp9X3qe0cDI/AAAAAAAAANo/_rsqGsfmZmM/s400/Where_Are_You_Now__by_Iza87.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377113093911638066" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Que é difícil de dizer</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Sp9X3PJRUaI/AAAAAAAAANg/nt-01M3UR5w/s1600-h/you_won__t_shut_me_up_by_saturdayx.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 283px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Sp9X3PJRUaI/AAAAAAAAANg/nt-01M3UR5w/s400/you_won__t_shut_me_up_by_saturdayx.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377113086573498786" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">O meu coração é um músculo involuntário</div><div style="text-align: center;">E ele pulsa por você</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Sp9X2_O0g5I/AAAAAAAAANY/hulRtAi1nvc/s1600-h/heart_by_DevannDeSousa.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 343px; height: 371px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Sp9X2_O0g5I/AAAAAAAAANY/hulRtAi1nvc/s400/heart_by_DevannDeSousa.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377113082301809554" /></a></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Sp9X2WATlmI/AAAAAAAAANQ/NYMxmqbFzGo/s1600-h/Tomorrow_says_good_bye_by_basemsamir.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"> <div style="text-align: center;text-decoration: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: none;"><br /></span></span></div></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Um dia eu vou estar contigo</div><div style="text-align: center;">E você vai estar na minha</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Sp9bOt_6yRI/AAAAAAAAAOI/n1jHEuG9d50/s1600-h/Love_by_Gabatinie.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Sp9bOt_6yRI/AAAAAAAAAOI/n1jHEuG9d50/s400/Love_by_Gabatinie.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377116788527646994" style="cursor: pointer; width: 270px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Enquanto eu vou andando</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Sp9Q14xq-6I/AAAAAAAAAMY/J4mDCJBoXYI/s1600-h/walking_in_the_sun_by_purple_rx.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Sp9Q14xq-6I/AAAAAAAAAMY/J4mDCJBoXYI/s400/walking_in_the_sun_by_purple_rx.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377105366807673762" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">O mundo gira e nos espera numa boa</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Sp9QUmnGAkI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/7Ydo-NiF80M/s1600-h/The_world_in_her_hand__by_incredi.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Sp9QUmnGAkI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/7Ydo-NiF80M/s400/The_world_in_her_hand__by_incredi.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377104794995786306" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Eu sei, eu sei</div><div style="text-align: center;">Eu sei...</div></div></div>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-17465380119934094282009-08-21T19:40:00.002-04:002009-08-21T20:12:26.565-04:00Terra<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/So83uuTgCbI/AAAAAAAAAL4/O-wjK0W6sbw/s1600-h/Demeter_by_bakafox.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 341px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/So83uuTgCbI/AAAAAAAAAL4/O-wjK0W6sbw/s400/Demeter_by_bakafox.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372574156319623602" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Transbordavam amor em tom de sangue latejante. Sem medo e em sua naturalidade, os frutos se lançavam à consumação da carne em uma orgia explícita. Via-se polpa-terra-polpa-vento-chuva-terra-polpa em uma mistura frenética durante intermináveis horas loucas de amor.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span lang="PT-BR">Subitamente, no fulgor do desejo, o tempo parou, fez-se silêncio e, das entranhas dos amantes suicidas, um gozo de sementes foi plantado no ventre fértil da terra negra. E, assim, num dia insuspeito de primavera, foi concebido um filho do mundo.</span></p>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-11563276654194958092009-08-10T01:38:00.002-04:002009-08-10T02:13:31.225-04:00Última chance.<div>Não! Não fecha</div><div>essa porta ain</div><div>da! Porque e</div><div>u preciso di</div><div>zer... nece</div><div>ssito diz</div><div>er: eu </div><div>te a</div><div>m</div><div>o</div><div>!</div>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-79141089617336768952009-07-19T22:34:00.004-04:002009-07-19T22:43:06.438-04:00Garbage - The World is Not Enough<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';">...The world is not enough<br />But it is such a perfect place to start, my love<br />And if you're strong enough<br />Together we can take the world apart, my love...</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:7;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:42px;"><br /></span></span></div><div></div><object width="340" height="285"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tYbLR67_F9E&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tYbLR67_F9E&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="340" height="285"></embed></object>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-87879213749314775102009-07-17T19:53:00.004-04:002009-07-17T20:02:00.197-04:00Aos que da Terra desprendem...<div style="text-align: left;">...o vôo urge. Nós ainda presos, sentimos saudades...</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Que seja doce.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/SmEPirN5c2I/AAAAAAAAALw/Bgs4jOAZ8I4/s1600-h/Wanna_Fly___by_cmrcan.jpg"></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/SmEPirN5c2I/AAAAAAAAALw/Bgs4jOAZ8I4/s1600-h/Wanna_Fly___by_cmrcan.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/SmEPirN5c2I/AAAAAAAAALw/Bgs4jOAZ8I4/s400/Wanna_Fly___by_cmrcan.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359582119938585442" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-27297579202832147962009-07-12T00:21:00.002-04:002009-07-12T00:25:07.999-04:00Bad Things - Jace Everett...I don't know who you think you are,<div>But before the night is through,</div><div>I wanna do bad things with you...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><object width="340" height="285"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sFxltmudaUA&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sFxltmudaUA&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="340" height="285"></embed></object>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-90983344163512093982009-07-07T16:30:00.002-04:002009-07-07T16:33:09.357-04:00Vento.<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/SlOwh1IsV2I/AAAAAAAAALg/JwVyvTWWOX4/s1600-h/To_leave_by_ZWIR.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/SlOwh1IsV2I/AAAAAAAAALg/JwVyvTWWOX4/s400/To_leave_by_ZWIR.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355818477119362914" /></a></div>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-66842225910393573792009-07-04T22:03:00.003-04:002009-07-04T22:08:52.706-04:00Realidade.<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/SlAK5OQsJoI/AAAAAAAAALU/TSOz3eKD11U/s1600-h/b4899c90647345de11f0f4385c2cf9af.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/SlAK5OQsJoI/AAAAAAAAALU/TSOz3eKD11U/s400/b4899c90647345de11f0f4385c2cf9af.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354791935140439682" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Escrevia o que sentia, afinal era o mundo mais verdadeiro em que habitava. Porém, era tão bruto e real o guardado naquelas páginas, que alguns afirmam: ao entardecer, sob um fino fio de luz, o livro pulsa.</div>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-64863973330727559072009-07-04T21:43:00.006-04:002009-07-04T22:02:40.250-04:00O guardião do fim do mundo.<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/SlAHv6nq47I/AAAAAAAAAK8/d1MqxF77x6g/s1600-h/the_stranger_by_MUTTAS.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/SlAHv6nq47I/AAAAAAAAAK8/d1MqxF77x6g/s400/the_stranger_by_MUTTAS.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354788476714410930" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-3242693138176832192009-07-04T16:15:00.003-04:002009-07-04T22:03:10.858-04:00Adeus.<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Sk_BIzrFlZI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/zz0T18EL5bI/s1600-h/Housewife_by_ramtha.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 338px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Sk_BIzrFlZI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/zz0T18EL5bI/s400/Housewife_by_ramtha.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354710839020852626" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" border-collapse: collapse; font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Cansada, recolheu da pia as mãos, retirou do armário os braços, da gaveta a cabeça, procurou pelo sofá as pernas, as coxas, os pés... vestiu-se. Antes de partir, arrancou das mãos daquele já desconhecido, o pouco coração que ainda teimava em bater.</span></span></div>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-791287756076209442009-06-29T15:53:00.003-04:002009-06-29T16:00:30.827-04:00Libertango<div><br /></div><div><object width="340" height="285"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/RUAPf_ccobc&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RUAPf_ccobc&hl=pt-br&fs=1&color1=0x3a3a3a&color2=0x999999&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="340" height="285"></embed></object><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; ">"Si, es cierto, soy un enemigo del tango; pero del tango como ellos lo entienden. Ellos siguen creyendo en el compadrito, yo no. Creen en el farolito, yo no. Si todo ha cambiado, también debe cambiar la música de Buenos Aires. Somos muchos los que queremos cambiar el tango, pero estos señores que me atacan no lo entienden ni lo van a entender jamás. Yo voy a seguir adelante, a pesar de ellos."</span></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="">Astor Piazzolla, Revista Antena, Buenos Aires, 1954.</span></span></div>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-91286441681773285642009-06-28T17:29:00.005-04:002009-06-28T18:08:14.850-04:00Just Beat it!<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Skfo_NpU2SI/AAAAAAAAAJc/dYAF2Lnu5bI/s1600-h/Tribute_to_Michael_Jackson_by_vampirekingdom.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 352px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Skfo_NpU2SI/AAAAAAAAAJc/dYAF2Lnu5bI/s400/Tribute_to_Michael_Jackson_by_vampirekingdom.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352502854845520162" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">"Before you judge me, try hard to love me.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The painful youth I've had"</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">MJ.</span></div></div>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-51101901262191366732009-06-22T01:08:00.006-04:002009-06-22T22:31:57.007-04:00A cadeira<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Sj8hU-PD7NI/AAAAAAAAAJU/IAzV1WtsFmE/s1600-h/One_in_Six_Children_Will_Flee__by_JOFX.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/Sj8hU-PD7NI/AAAAAAAAAJU/IAzV1WtsFmE/s400/One_in_Six_Children_Will_Flee__by_JOFX.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350031526526708946" /></a></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" border-collapse: collapse; font-family:'times new roman';"><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Raiva.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Arqueou os dedos sobre os braços da cadeira, apertou-os de tal forma que se via o sangue fugir das mãos... cerrara os dentes.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Respirou, levantou e saiu.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">A cadeira range até hoje.</span></p></span></div>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-91676441143862463842009-06-19T18:48:00.001-04:002009-06-19T18:53:54.715-04:00Mais uma vez......eu vou te deixar, mas eu volto logo pra te ver...<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><object width="340" height="285"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zll9eZd7JBE&hl=pt-br&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zll9eZd7JBE&hl=pt-br&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="340" height="285"></embed></object>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4768092604858356825.post-81708804164103578942009-06-18T19:09:00.009-04:002009-06-19T18:54:54.461-04:00Fado<div style="text-align: justify;">Então, achei que hoje seria um bom dia para falar de "<i>fado"... </i>para quem não conhece, fado (que significa destino) é um estilo de música da tradição portuguesa, cuja interpretação é composta por apenas um cantor (fadista), acompanhado por uma guitarra portuguesa e, atualmente, por uma orquestra também.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UArQiH4w6iY/SjrQwg3H2hI/AAAAAAAAAI0/M27oOhsEjZI/s400/Jose_malhoa_fado.jpg" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 331px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348817039329319442" /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">by Jose Malhoa</span></i><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Não se sabe bem a origem do fado, mas a história que conheço é a que o fado teria nascido aqui, no Brasil, pelos portugueses que vinham aqui morar... eles, longe de suas famílias, cantavam sobre a saudade, as cidades portuguesas, os amores que lá ficaram... talvez, seja aí, que a palavra <i>saudade </i>tenha nascido e talvez, por isso, as músicas sejam tão viscerais e doloridas.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Bom, a grande fadista de todos os tempos, a Rainha do fado, foi Amália Rodrigues (<i>Viva Amália!)</i>. Ela popularizou o estilo ao cantar os grandes poetas, como Camões, José Régio e outros. Um vídeo dela a interpretar <i>Gaivota</i>:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><object width="340" height="285"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gNf02ZDzouI&hl=pt-br&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gNf02ZDzouI&hl=pt-br&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="340" height="285"></embed></object><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Fadistas mais atuais, que ouço bastante são: Mariza, uma moça de Moçambique de voz poderosíssima. Aí vai ela, interpretando <i>Barco Negro</i>:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><object width="340" height="285"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5ElLSBx9Jo8&hl=pt-br&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5ElLSBx9Jo8&hl=pt-br&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="340" height="285"></embed></object><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">E Dulce Pontes, quem eu considero a <i>Piazzolla</i> do fado, devido às suas inovações, a musicalidade, os arranjos... e claro, a voz belíssima. Um pouco de Dulce, <i>O primeiro canto</i>:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><object width="340" height="285"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/guOKjSv0SsE&hl=pt-br&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/guOKjSv0SsE&hl=pt-br&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x402061&color2=0x9461ca&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="340" height="285"></embed></object><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Para os iniciantes, o primeiro contato pode ser um pouco difícil, devido ao estranhamento ao sotaque, mas é só relaxar, fechar os olhos e deixar a música entrar. É uma experiência única, viciante e terrivelmente humana.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Experimenta!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Para quem quiser um pouco mais de informação sobre fado, acesse: <a href="http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fado">http://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fado</a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div>Carmen Carvalhohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10742680003123486921noreply@blogger.com2