<?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-8816311245663907249</id><updated>2011-08-01T11:08:55.006-07:00</updated><category term='minuano'/><category term='Poeta'/><category term='Florianópolis'/><category term='O Refugio do Principe'/><category term='Porto Alegre'/><category term='ufrgs'/><category term='Outubro'/><category term='Cinema'/><category term='Sao Paulo'/><category term='citação'/><category term='citações'/><category term='contos'/><category term='uruguaiana'/><category term='Mar'/><category term='Jornalismo'/><category term='No meio da rua'/><category term='domingo'/><category term='música'/><category term='Poesia'/><category term='Teatro de arena'/><category term='futebol'/><category term='Blumenau'/><category term='No mar veremos'/><category term='Poemas traduzidos'/><category term='Quintana'/><category term='história'/><category term='colégio sant&apos;ana'/><category term='pampa'/><category term='zé gomes'/><category term='mutuca'/><category term='sorriso'/><category term='crônicas'/><category term='Vento'/><category term='Video'/><category term='poemas musicados'/><title type='text'>Arquivos do Poeta</title><subtitle type='html'>**Blog Não-Oficial**
Reunindo fotos, poemas, escritos de Nei Duclós</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Juliana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02919999833292554313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8816311245663907249.post-3226464829764684775</id><published>2009-09-16T11:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T11:52:04.128-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No mar veremos'/><title type='text'>AMOR ESTRANHO</title><content type='html'>&lt;nei s=""&gt;NEI DUCLÓS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu sou um poeta estranho&lt;br /&gt;Não fumo, não jogo&lt;br /&gt;não tomo banho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A não ser que seja água&lt;br /&gt;que você apanhe&lt;br /&gt;A não ser que seja fumo&lt;br /&gt;que você prepare&lt;br /&gt;A não ser que seja carta&lt;br /&gt;e você ganhe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Você é um amor estranho&lt;br /&gt;Não come, não passeia&lt;br /&gt;não reclama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A não ser que seja eu&lt;br /&gt;quem compre a carne&lt;br /&gt;A não ser que seja praia&lt;br /&gt;e eu te ame&lt;br /&gt;A não ser que seja dor&lt;br /&gt;e eu me cale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Publicado no livro No Mar Veremos, 2001 Ed. Globo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/nei&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8816311245663907249-3226464829764684775?l=arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/3226464829764684775/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8816311245663907249&amp;postID=3226464829764684775&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/3226464829764684775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/3226464829764684775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/2009/09/amor-estranho.html' title='AMOR ESTRANHO'/><author><name>Juliana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02919999833292554313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8816311245663907249.post-6110111542483237427</id><published>2009-08-02T11:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T12:23:21.522-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Outubro'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='contos'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='O Refugio do Principe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crônicas'/><title type='text'>histórias sopradas pelo vento</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“Que o nosso refúgio não sejam as paredes altas, mas a confiança nos outros”.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nei Duclós&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/SnXmxrh7rzI/AAAAAAAAAGE/Eo20o1eDpf4/s1600-h/Imagem+23877.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 251px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365448272254840626" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/SnXmxrh7rzI/AAAAAAAAAGE/Eo20o1eDpf4/s400/Imagem+23877.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"A gente costuma sobrevoar as pessoas. Não presta atenção. Não as vê. Mas você faz isso, e descobre um romance em cada um."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; Antenor Nascimento em carta ao autor Nei Duclós&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O REFÚGIO DO PRÍNCIPE - histórias sopradas pelo vento&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;contos e crônicas de Nei Duclós&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;para ler ou dar de presente: R$ 20,00 reais (frete incluído)&lt;br /&gt;escreva para &lt;a href="mailto:neiduclos@hotmail.com"&gt;neiduclos@hotmail.com&lt;/a&gt; mandando seu endereço&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/SnXnLLS_5OI/AAAAAAAAAGM/aqTJFFkj3vg/s1600-h/icon2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 121px; HEIGHT: 113px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365448710278866146" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/SnXnLLS_5OI/AAAAAAAAAGM/aqTJFFkj3vg/s400/icon2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ajude a circular o livro, obrigada!&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;poema de hoje:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HÁ UM POEMA EM CADA AMIGO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Nei Duclós&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Há um poema em cada amigo&lt;br /&gt;custa descobri-lo&lt;br /&gt;precisa tempo, distância&lt;br /&gt;comunhão, exílio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A magia custa a florir&lt;br /&gt;como os versos simples&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O inesquecível está na mão&lt;br /&gt;mas o braço&lt;br /&gt;é um longo caminho&lt;br /&gt;entre a ponta de um dedo&lt;br /&gt;e o coração&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Do livro Outubro, 1975)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8816311245663907249-6110111542483237427?l=arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/6110111542483237427/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8816311245663907249&amp;postID=6110111542483237427&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/6110111542483237427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/6110111542483237427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/2009/08/historias-sopradas-pelo-vento.html' title='histórias sopradas pelo vento'/><author><name>Juliana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02919999833292554313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/SnXmxrh7rzI/AAAAAAAAAGE/Eo20o1eDpf4/s72-c/Imagem+23877.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8816311245663907249.post-61793225850483764</id><published>2009-06-14T07:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T08:16:50.652-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Outubro'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poemas traduzidos'/><title type='text'>OCTOBER - the poem</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/SjUQWARVepI/AAAAAAAAAFk/lMBYkrxCsNw/s1600-h/out.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347198102788209298" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 260px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/SjUQWARVepI/AAAAAAAAAFk/lMBYkrxCsNw/s400/out.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;OCTOBER&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Nei Duclós&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My soul is turning&lt;br /&gt;Over and slowly&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry to be&lt;br /&gt;A traveler sober&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;From winter to spring&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;From april to&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;October&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it comes&lt;br /&gt;From flower to&lt;br /&gt;Ground&lt;br /&gt;(Hard to be stone&lt;br /&gt;Breathing the dust&lt;br /&gt;Ripping the trees&lt;br /&gt;Drawing in the clouds)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;Inch and brut&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I change and float&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It´s a time to come&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An october truth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;(Tranlastion by Nei Duclós)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/283/2285/640/capaoutubro.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)"&gt;OUTUBRO&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,102,102); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nei Duclós&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)"&gt;Trago a nova: eu mudo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)"&gt;lento, e é tudo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)"&gt;Sinto ser assim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)"&gt;por estações: aos turnos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)"&gt;Posso voltar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)"&gt;ao ponto de partida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)"&gt;mas luto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)"&gt;Sei que vem outubro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)"&gt;Flores, fruto de seiva&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)"&gt;romperão no mundo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)"&gt;(Trabalho duro:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)"&gt;sugar de pedras&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)"&gt;rasgar os caules&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)"&gt;colher ar puro)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)"&gt;Lento e bruto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)"&gt;eu mudo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)"&gt;Sei que vem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(102,102,102)"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;Outubro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/283/2285/640/capaoutubro.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 106px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 154px" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/283/2285/640/capaoutubro.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porto Alegre : A Nação, 1975.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;* Illustrations by Levitan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;The Book "OUTUBRO" in the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://catnyp.nypl.org/search?/XDuclos%20and%20Nei&amp;amp;SORT=D/XDuclos%20and%20Nei&amp;amp;SORT=D&amp;amp;SUBKEY=Duclos%20and%20Nei/1%2C4%2C4%2CB/frameset&amp;amp;FF=XDuclos%20and%20Nei&amp;amp;SORT=D&amp;amp;4%2C4%2C"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;New York Public Library&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8816311245663907249-61793225850483764?l=arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/61793225850483764/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8816311245663907249&amp;postID=61793225850483764&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/61793225850483764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/61793225850483764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/2009/06/october-poem.html' title='OCTOBER - the poem'/><author><name>Juliana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02919999833292554313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/SjUQWARVepI/AAAAAAAAAFk/lMBYkrxCsNw/s72-c/out.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8816311245663907249.post-2264781465255548542</id><published>2009-04-23T07:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T11:22:38.028-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mutuca'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='música'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No meio da rua'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poemas musicados'/><title type='text'>Palavra escrita</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/SfB_3_n_wnI/AAAAAAAAAEk/6eV-ocTGac4/s1600-h/nmr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327898959128019570" style="width: 400px; height: 267px;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/SfB_3_n_wnI/AAAAAAAAAEk/6eV-ocTGac4/s400/nmr.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DECLARAÇÃO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Nei Duclós&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que perdi não devolvem&lt;br /&gt;Vou buscar com o revólver&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que ganhei não é posse&lt;br /&gt;Sou um canal, tudo passa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que falei não se apaga&lt;br /&gt;A vida é uma palavra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que matei não prestava&lt;br /&gt;Fiz tudo por minha alma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que senti eu te mostro&lt;br /&gt;Nessa loucura sem trégua&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que sofri foi sem volta&lt;br /&gt;Pois aprendi nos assaltos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que chorei não se mede&lt;br /&gt;O meu amor é tão vasto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O que procuro eu acho&lt;br /&gt;Estou aberto a machado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do livro&lt;strong&gt; "No meio da rua"&lt;/strong&gt; de Nei Duclós, Ed.L&amp;amp;PM , 1980&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Este poema foi musicado por Muts Weyrauch, ouça abaixo:&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/m3dGa1VBoXI&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/m3dGa1VBoXI&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8816311245663907249-2264781465255548542?l=arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/2264781465255548542/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8816311245663907249&amp;postID=2264781465255548542&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/2264781465255548542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/2264781465255548542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/2009/04/palavra-escrita.html' title='Palavra escrita'/><author><name>Juliana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02919999833292554313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/SfB_3_n_wnI/AAAAAAAAAEk/6eV-ocTGac4/s72-c/nmr.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8816311245663907249.post-2501026784367918716</id><published>2009-04-11T12:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T18:12:34.156-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mutuca'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poemas musicados'/><title type='text'>R&amp;B</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;VIAGEM A SATURNO&lt;/strong&gt; - Poesia de Nei Duclós - Música de Muts Weyrauch . Gravação: CD Mutuca Rock'n'Roll Band. (Voyage to Saturn the gun-play lost in childhood that stayed in the space) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9yeHTSrSn-g&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9yeHTSrSn-g&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;poema de hoje:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;VIAGEM À SATURNO&lt;br /&gt;Irei até os aneis de Saturno&lt;br /&gt;Para encontrar objetos perdidos&lt;br /&gt;Lá espera o meu revólver de mocinho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Espantarei as moscas do destino&lt;br /&gt;E viajarei como ave sem rumo&lt;br /&gt;Num belíssimo voo diurno&lt;br /&gt;Como um arco-íris meus pés flutuam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nei Duclós&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8816311245663907249-2501026784367918716?l=arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/2501026784367918716/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8816311245663907249&amp;postID=2501026784367918716&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/2501026784367918716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/2501026784367918716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/2009/04/r.html' title='R&amp;B'/><author><name>Juliana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02919999833292554313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8816311245663907249.post-5658883177299890307</id><published>2009-04-10T13:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T13:32:35.362-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jornalismo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No meio da rua'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Florianópolis'/><title type='text'>Redator</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_07c7oRWkB08/Sd9Gew4HDAI/AAAAAAAACKI/ZvCbwkbvJW8/s400/nei+ducl%C3%B3s+de+olho+na+capital.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_07c7oRWkB08/Sd9Gew4HDAI/AAAAAAAACKI/ZvCbwkbvJW8/s400/nei+ducl%C3%B3s+de+olho+na+capital.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;Nei Duclós na redação do jornal O Estado, de Florianópolis, em 1972. Foto de &lt;a href="http://www.deolhonacapital.com.br/"&gt;Cesar Valente&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;"A foto acima, por exemplo. Um flagrante na redação do jornal O Estado, que inaugurava suas máquinas off-set e convidara Jorge Escosteguy para ser editor de Nacional e Internacional. Escosteguy me chamou para ser seu redator e é nessa atividade que me encontro na imagem acima. Na redação liderada por Marcílio Medeiros, Filho, fazíamos o melhor jornal possível, limitados por inúmeras contingências. Foto que o Cesar Valente guardava para uma ocasião como esta. O que não dá para aguentar é a cara de felicidade do sujeito folheando um jornal. De que ria o rapaz?" N. Duclós&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;links:&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://outubro.blogspot.com/2009/04/nesta-sexta-feira-da-paixao-o.html"&gt;BAÚS DA MEMÓRIA&lt;/a&gt; , por Nei Duclós&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://www.deolhonacapital.com.br/2009/04/10/direto-da-sacristia/"&gt;Direto da sacristia&lt;/a&gt;, por César Valente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;poema de hoje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Os esquemas do passageiro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;são espirais&lt;br /&gt;ele entra na roda&lt;br /&gt;mas sempre sai&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O passageiro não perde a noção do cais&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nem perde a volta&lt;br /&gt;que faz&lt;br /&gt;nem pousa&lt;br /&gt;pra descansar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O passageiro não perde a noção do mar &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;(Nei Duclós em "No meio da Rua")&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/8816311245663907249-5658883177299890307?l=arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/5658883177299890307/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8816311245663907249&amp;postID=5658883177299890307&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/5658883177299890307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/5658883177299890307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/2009/04/nei-duclos-na-redacao-do-jornal-o.html' title='Redator'/><author><name>Juliana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02919999833292554313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_07c7oRWkB08/Sd9Gew4HDAI/AAAAAAAACKI/ZvCbwkbvJW8/s72-c/nei+ducl%C3%B3s+de+olho+na+capital.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8816311245663907249.post-3500770199826480361</id><published>2009-04-08T13:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T17:17:36.895-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='música'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pampa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vento'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='minuano'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='zé gomes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No meio da rua'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poemas musicados'/><title type='text'>Minuano</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Armo as velas nesse vendaval"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/9Ns_OMS98Uc&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/9Ns_OMS98Uc&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;VIDEO: Minuano - Música de Zé Gomes, Poema de Nei Duclós.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;link: &lt;a href="http://outubro.blogspot.com/2003/10/dirio-da-fonte-aquele-rdio-inesquecvel.html"&gt;Aquele rádio inesquecível&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;poema de hoje:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;MINUANO&lt;br /&gt;O vento é uma pedra polar&lt;br /&gt;que põe o campo de cabelo branco&lt;br /&gt;e acende meu corpo tropical&lt;br /&gt;O pampa não sonha quando balança&lt;br /&gt;ao som do minuano no varal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 153, 153);"&gt;mas meu coração se lança contra o tempo mau&lt;br /&gt;Armo as velas neste vendaval."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;(N. Duclós - Minuano - No meio da Rua)&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8816311245663907249-3500770199826480361?l=arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/3500770199826480361/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8816311245663907249&amp;postID=3500770199826480361&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/3500770199826480361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/3500770199826480361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/2009/04/minuano.html' title='Minuano'/><author><name>Juliana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02919999833292554313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8816311245663907249.post-4111995015393997536</id><published>2009-04-08T12:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T13:13:21.996-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Quintana'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poeta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Outubro'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ufrgs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Porto Alegre'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sao Paulo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No meio da rua'/><title type='text'>"Não posso deixar de trair o meu sossego"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/Sdz7Th2d5QI/AAAAAAAAAEM/ahn30QVOX8c/s1600-h/ufrgs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322405172567991554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 210px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 207px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/Sdz7Th2d5QI/AAAAAAAAAEM/ahn30QVOX8c/s400/ufrgs.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt; foto de de Juarez Fonseca, Nei Duclós na época da UFRGS&lt;br /&gt;link: &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.consciencia.org/neiduclos/News/LONGA-VIDA-A-UFRGS/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Longa vida à UFRGS&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;, por Nei Duclós&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;"(...)O primeiro poema que li, de Nei, assim começava: "Olhem o animal da palavra". Era eu. No tempo em que ele o publicou não pude agradecer-lhe.Pois foi quando se dera na Europa e nas Américas aquele histórico e súbito movimento de maturidade e independência dos jovens - os quais se apresentavam de longas barbas, não para imitarem seus venerandos avós, mas sim, creio eu, numa espécie de reencarnação do homem das cavernas -, visto que era preciso recomeçar tudo. Ora, como eu ia dizendo, não pude agradecer pessoalmente ao poeta, pois jamais conseguia diferençar um barbudinho de outro. Sei que agora ele está barbilampinho. Mas noutra cidade, onde diz coisas assim: "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Não posso deixar de trair o meu sossego".(...)"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Texto de &lt;strong&gt;Mário Quintana&lt;/strong&gt; no &lt;strong&gt;prefácio &lt;/strong&gt;no segundo livro de Duclós "&lt;strong&gt;No Meio da Rua&lt;/strong&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;link: &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.jornaldepoesia.jor.br/quinta3.html"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Prefácio na íntegra de Mário Quintana&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;poema de hoje:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Olhem o antípoda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;olhem o animal da palavra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;É um dinossauro na cidade de vidro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;borboleta branca na floresta queimada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Respeitem seu andar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;e desconfiem com temor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;da sua conversa fiada&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Ele é o flagelo do Senhor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;e vocês não sabem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;(Nei Duclós no livro OUTUBRO)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8816311245663907249-4111995015393997536?l=arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/4111995015393997536/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8816311245663907249&amp;postID=4111995015393997536&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/4111995015393997536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/4111995015393997536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/2009/04/nao-posso-deixar-de-trair-o-meu-sossego.html' title='&quot;Não posso deixar de trair o meu sossego&quot;'/><author><name>Juliana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02919999833292554313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/Sdz7Th2d5QI/AAAAAAAAAEM/ahn30QVOX8c/s72-c/ufrgs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8816311245663907249.post-8537581091937131956</id><published>2009-04-05T20:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T18:16:10.972-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='uruguaiana'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Video'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mar'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='música'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pampa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='história'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='zé gomes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No mar veremos'/><title type='text'>No mar, Veremos</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HMsZhzPEbe8&amp;amp;hl=pt-br&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HMsZhzPEbe8&amp;hl=pt-br&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;video, realizado por &lt;a href="http://www.feriasfloripa.com.br/"&gt;Ferias Floripa&lt;/a&gt;: Poema " No Mar, Veremos", do livro do mesmo nome (Ed. Globo, 2001) de Nei Duclós, musicado e cantado por José Gomes, autor da melodia, dos arranjos e da execução dos instrumentos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;obs.: Eu colocaria modo "tela cheia" :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;"Lembro que fiquei anos escrevendo o poema. Inventei, na poesia, a lenda do barco que não se entregava, que não se dobrava diante das tormentas, pois sempre voltava e ficava firme na beira. Era uma história da infância transformada pela poesia. Em três ou quatro meses de 1986, quando trabalhava na Lapa de Baixo, em São Paulo, na revista Senhor, eu rescrevi o poema todos os dias. " &lt;a href="http://outubro.blogspot.com/2009/04/no-mar-veremos-cancao.html"&gt;Nei Duclós&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;poema de hoje:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;NO MAR, VEREMOS&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nei Duclós&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pescador de rio pequeno&lt;br /&gt;coloca tudo nos eixos:&lt;br /&gt;seu aço guardado em sótão&lt;br /&gt;sua lança quebrada ao meio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sabe o rumo da tormenta&lt;br /&gt;o passo da palometa&lt;br /&gt;o avesso de toda malha&lt;br /&gt;o limo sob o sereno&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pescador de rio moreno&lt;br /&gt;charrua de preta escama&lt;br /&gt;seu barco já está a prumo&lt;br /&gt;aguarda a voz do minuano&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E se vier o mar&lt;br /&gt;com séquito de sereias&lt;br /&gt;a espuma em seu território&lt;br /&gt;a carne suja de areia?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E se vier o mar&lt;br /&gt;usando arpões de baleia&lt;br /&gt;sargaços ardendo em febre&lt;br /&gt;gáveas altas como estrelas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pescador tem a resposta&lt;br /&gt;dobrada em lenço vermelho&lt;br /&gt;que aviva os sonhos do sótão&lt;br /&gt;de aço posto nos eixos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pois o mar é uma lenda&lt;br /&gt;cultivada pelo vento&lt;br /&gt;a porta de um outro mundo&lt;br /&gt;maré de água estrangeira&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;é uma espécie de terror&lt;br /&gt;com batalhão de tridentes&lt;br /&gt;generais do imperador&lt;br /&gt;roubo de comerciantes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O mar, para um pescador&lt;br /&gt;criado em água corrente&lt;br /&gt;nos arames dos arroios&lt;br /&gt;entre os moirões das fazendas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;é uma dança pelo avesso&lt;br /&gt;a trilha do formigueiro&lt;br /&gt;metralha sob a vanguarda&lt;br /&gt;canhão contra baioneta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pois se vier o mar, veremos&lt;br /&gt;o barco a remo do pampa&lt;br /&gt;puxando um cordão guerreiro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;para atiçar a batalha&lt;br /&gt;para tingir os valentes&lt;br /&gt;para costurar a mortalha&lt;br /&gt;do sal que resseca a rede&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;que suga o sangue farrapo&lt;br /&gt;com sua manha de peixe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pescador vem do levante&lt;br /&gt;e um milhão atrás dele &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8816311245663907249-8537581091937131956?l=arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/8537581091937131956/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8816311245663907249&amp;postID=8537581091937131956&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/8537581091937131956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/8537581091937131956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/2009/04/no-mar-veremos.html' title='No mar, Veremos'/><author><name>Juliana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02919999833292554313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8816311245663907249.post-8531699936716060585</id><published>2009-04-03T08:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T11:36:57.860-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='uruguaiana'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='futebol'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='colégio sant&apos;ana'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No meio da rua'/><title type='text'>Time de Futebol</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/SdYnp9OTYmI/AAAAAAAAAEE/w1XIWl4cPAA/s1600-h/futebol.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320483611547492962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 284px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/SdYnp9OTYmI/AAAAAAAAAEE/w1XIWl4cPAA/s400/futebol.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;foto: time vice-campeao da segunda série ginasial do colégio Sant'Ana de Uruguaiana. Nei Duclós é o goleirão (terceiro da fileira de baixo da esquerda para direita).&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Links: Conjunto de cronicas de esportes assinadas por Duclós, &lt;a href="http://www.consciencia.org/neiduclos/News/view/Topic/Esportes"&gt;vai lá&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;poema de hoje:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;EU E O PASSAGEIRO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;de tênis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;com o andar dos anos cinquenta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;que aprendemos nas matinês&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;Cruzando a praça com nossa roupa gasta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;e navegando no fim de todas as tardes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;Eu e o passageiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;nas esquinas do tempo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;esperando acender as luzes da manhã&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;opostos e iguais como dois irmãos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;ligados por uma ponte subterrânea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,255)"&gt;do tamanho da palavra Uruguaiana&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;(Nei Duclós, em No meio da Rua)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(153,51,153)"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8816311245663907249-8531699936716060585?l=arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/8531699936716060585/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8816311245663907249&amp;postID=8531699936716060585&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/8531699936716060585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/8531699936716060585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/2009/04/time-de-futebol.html' title='Time de Futebol'/><author><name>Juliana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02919999833292554313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/SdYnp9OTYmI/AAAAAAAAAEE/w1XIWl4cPAA/s72-c/futebol.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8816311245663907249.post-8942793047266049734</id><published>2009-04-01T12:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T11:31:51.358-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blumenau'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jornalismo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sao Paulo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No mar veremos'/><title type='text'>Uma Redação</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KwmddgO-H0I/Sbk2fK3PcOI/AAAAAAAAI0E/EF_Hup56WP0/s400/foto+gago.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 245px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KwmddgO-H0I/Sbk2fK3PcOI/AAAAAAAAI0E/EF_Hup56WP0/s400/foto+gago.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;Foto: equipe original do Jornal de Santa Catarina, lançado em 1971 em Blumenau, e hoje conhecido como Santa e de propriedade da RBS.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;links:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- A &lt;a href="http://outubro.blogspot.com/2007/05/dirio-da-fonte_19.html"&gt;FOTO E OS FATOS&lt;/a&gt;, por Nei Duclós&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;- &lt;a href="http://outubro.blogspot.com/2009/04/coracao-de-veludo.html"&gt;CORAÇÃO DE VELUDO&lt;/a&gt; , por Nei Duclós&lt;br /&gt;- Os &lt;a href="http://www.deolhonacapital.com.br/2009/03/12/os-gauchos-do-santa/"&gt;Gaúchos do Santa&lt;/a&gt;, por César Valente&lt;br /&gt;- A &lt;a href="http://cangablog.blogspot.com/2009/03/foto-e-o-amigo.html"&gt;foto e o amigo&lt;/a&gt;, por Sérgio Rubim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;- &lt;a href="http://mariomedaglia.blogspot.com/2009/03/foto-e-os-fatos.html"&gt;Blog &lt;/a&gt;do Mário Medaglia&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Nei Duclós mais tarde se mudaria para São Paulo, passando pelas redacoes do jornal Folha de S. Paulo, revistas Brasil 21, Senhor, e IstoÉ. Publicou textos também em O Estado de S. Paulo, Veja e Jornal do Brasil. Atualmente mora em Florianópolis e publica cronicas na Imprensa, para acompanhar visite o &lt;a href="http://outubro.blogspot.com/"&gt;DIARIO DA FONTE&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Textos sobre a profissao de jornalista &lt;a href="http://www.consciencia.org/neiduclos/News/view/Topic/Edicao"&gt;voce encontra &lt;/a&gt;em seu site.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;poema de hoje:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;SENHA&lt;br /&gt;Somos nós, os pescadores&lt;br /&gt;que fizemos do rio uma casa&lt;br /&gt;e de todos os rios, uma pátria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somos nós, os pescadores&lt;br /&gt;que cruzamos cidades amargas&lt;br /&gt;com os remos fora d’água&lt;br /&gt;e o rosto lavado em sal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somos nós, os pescadores&lt;br /&gt;Que nos reunimos em silêncio&lt;br /&gt;ao redor do amanhecer&lt;br /&gt;com o sol preso na mão&lt;br /&gt;e a rede tensa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somos nós o horizonte&lt;br /&gt;onde aportarão os exércitos&lt;br /&gt;sem direção&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Levantar um braço, então&lt;br /&gt;será o bastante&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;(Nei Duclós, em No mar, Veremos)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8816311245663907249-8942793047266049734?l=arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/8942793047266049734/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8816311245663907249&amp;postID=8942793047266049734&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/8942793047266049734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/8942793047266049734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/2009/04/uma-redacao.html' title='Uma Redação'/><author><name>Juliana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02919999833292554313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KwmddgO-H0I/Sbk2fK3PcOI/AAAAAAAAI0E/EF_Hup56WP0/s72-c/foto+gago.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8816311245663907249.post-435956701848276958</id><published>2009-03-31T17:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T11:35:14.320-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poeta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jornalismo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sao Paulo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No mar veremos'/><title type='text'>Editor.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3193/2767663507_1618795728_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3193/2767663507_1618795728_o.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;foto: Na Fiesp, foto de Marcelo Min. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(0,0,102)"&gt;Atenção: O primeiro que comentar este post de forma nao anonima vai ganhar um &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(0,0,102); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;postal comum&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(0,0,102)"&gt; de Florianópolis com escritos do poeta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;poema de hoje:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;BARREIRA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;O poeta sempre escapa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;pela reticência&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;quem quiser pegá-lo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;ficará, no máximo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;com o casaco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;O poeta é o animal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;que cruza todas as fronteiras&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;enquanto pessoas conservam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;inúteis soldados&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;que pedem documentos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;(Nei Duclós, em No mar, veremos)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8816311245663907249-435956701848276958?l=arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/435956701848276958/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8816311245663907249&amp;postID=435956701848276958&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/435956701848276958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/435956701848276958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/2009/03/editor.html' title='Editor.'/><author><name>Juliana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02919999833292554313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8816311245663907249.post-1610963321473754940</id><published>2009-03-31T09:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T11:47:05.381-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='uruguaiana'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Outubro'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='colégio sant&apos;ana'/><title type='text'>Um objeto.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/SdJRiwImMwI/AAAAAAAAADU/b_jpAMfzbN0/s1600-h/P2120069.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319403767356338946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 290px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/SdJRiwImMwI/AAAAAAAAADU/b_jpAMfzbN0/s400/P2120069.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;foto: Caderneta da época do então ginasio que o poeta guarda até hoje.&lt;/span&gt; (Aluno Primeiro da classe no Colégio Sant'Ana - Uruguaiana)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;poema de hoje:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="PADDING-LEFT: 60px; COLOR: rgb(0,102,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,153)"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;LIÇÃO DE TRAVESSIA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;parece que do outro lado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;está a Argentina&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;As balsas carregadas da infância&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;sumiram do meu olhar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;mas a ponte permaneceu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;como eterna promessa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;de que todas as margens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;podem ser pisadas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;O mundo não tem lado certo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;pois há uma ponte sólida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;por cima de todas as águas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nei Duclós em Outubro&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8816311245663907249-1610963321473754940?l=arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/1610963321473754940/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8816311245663907249&amp;postID=1610963321473754940&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/1610963321473754940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/1610963321473754940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/2009/03/fotos-caderneta-que-o-poeta-guarda-ate.html' title='Um objeto.'/><author><name>Juliana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02919999833292554313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/SdJRiwImMwI/AAAAAAAAADU/b_jpAMfzbN0/s72-c/P2120069.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8816311245663907249.post-6502514075735550019</id><published>2009-03-30T07:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T11:38:23.062-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Porto Alegre'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Teatro de arena'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cinema'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No mar veremos'/><title type='text'>No elenco</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;no cinema:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3278/2769236900_c2f61f3f38.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3278/2769236900_c2f61f3f38.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 281px; HEIGHT: 500px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3278/2769236900_c2f61f3f38.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;em&gt;foto: Em 1968 ou 9, preparando-se para entrar em cena no curta-metragem dirigido por Juarez Fonseca, "Farsa".&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;no &lt;a href="http://teatrodearenarshistorico.blogspot.com/2009/03/arturo-ui-1971.html"&gt;Teatro de Arena&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Arturo Ui - 1971&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Texto: Berthold Brecht&lt;br /&gt;Direção: Jairo de Andrade&lt;br /&gt;Elenco: Jesus Tubalcain, Jorge Santos Júnior, Ludoval Campos, Luiz de Miranda, Marta Magadan, Miguel Ramos, Nei Duclós, Nelson Braga, Sérgio Roberto Vargas e Zezo Vargas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fonte: Livro “Teatro de Arena - Palco de Resistência” de Rafael Guimaraens.&lt;br /&gt;Postado por TEATRO DE ARENA&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sobre a experiência, Nei Duclós nos diz::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,153)"&gt;"Minha meteórica "carreira" como ator de teatro, que se resumiu a esta peça, me deixou grandes lembranças. Do amigo Jairo de Andrade, diretor determinado e radical, do maior ator do Brasil Miguel Ramos, com quem tive a honra de dividir uns tiros em cena, com o poeta Luis de Miranda, com Sérgio e Zezo Vargas, com a inesquecível Marta Magadan, com os veteranos Jesus Tubalcaim e Ludoval Campos e todas as pessoas envolvidas nesta montagem. Serviu para eu aprender alguma coisa de teatro e também me convencer de que não sou desse ramo, mas faço parte dele como admirador, torcedor, espectador e, acredito, personagem."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Poema de hoje:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;IDADE DA PÓLVORA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;Tudo cabe&lt;br /&gt;no paiol de imagens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;o mágico, a lógica &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;a linguagem na flor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;da idade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;Nada cabe nesta sala&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;nosso amor, nossa fábrica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;Para viver&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;precisa baixar o vale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;como os rios sem nome&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;e a fome das águias&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;A solidão é de quem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;ataca. a tocaia na mão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;com um tacape&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;A escuridão é teu passo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;possível autor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;da claridade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Em "No mar, veremos")&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8816311245663907249-6502514075735550019?l=arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/6502514075735550019/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8816311245663907249&amp;postID=6502514075735550019&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/6502514075735550019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/6502514075735550019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/2009/03/no-elenco_30.html' title='No elenco'/><author><name>Juliana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02919999833292554313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3278/2769236900_c2f61f3f38_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8816311245663907249.post-259409569697339017</id><published>2009-03-28T21:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T11:41:05.943-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Outubro'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='domingo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='citações'/><title type='text'>Domingo.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/Sc78NswfulI/AAAAAAAAABY/T-yWdkp_jU4/s1600-h/mari+123.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318465522254199378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 243px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/Sc78NswfulI/AAAAAAAAABY/T-yWdkp_jU4/s400/mari+123.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3654/3378461246_4bfa09d414.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 375px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 500px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3654/3378461246_4bfa09d414.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;fotos: Scanner do livro OUTUBRO, e foto de Juliana&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8816311245663907249-259409569697339017?l=arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/259409569697339017/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8816311245663907249&amp;postID=259409569697339017&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/259409569697339017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/259409569697339017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/2009/03/domingo.html' title='Domingo.'/><author><name>Juliana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02919999833292554313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wan1JqF0aqE/Sc78NswfulI/AAAAAAAAABY/T-yWdkp_jU4/s72-c/mari+123.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8816311245663907249.post-7357219905297631539</id><published>2009-03-27T21:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-08T09:38:35.070-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Outubro'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mar'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vento'/><title type='text'>Sonhos do poeta</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_07c7oRWkB08/SGN9X73C7CI/AAAAAAAAA9o/Zw-fCwrsr3s/s1600/dias%2Bfelizes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 500px; height: 449px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_07c7oRWkB08/SGN9X73C7CI/AAAAAAAAA9o/Zw-fCwrsr3s/s1600/dias%2Bfelizes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span id="caption" style="font-style: italic;" name="caption"&gt;foto: Verão de 1987, com os filhos. Foto de &lt;a href="http://clovisheberle.blogspot.com/"&gt;Clovis Heberle&lt;/a&gt; (Imbé).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;poema de hoje:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;MAR DOS NOVE ANOS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;O mar na minha infância&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;como um trem no sonho de um louco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;um disco voador na porta dos fundos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;como o fim do mundo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;com ondas voltando de viagem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;O mar como um desastre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;como um avião que cai no mar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;O mar como nunca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;verde-claro com rendas de espuma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;a dois passos de mim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;como um trunfo, um presente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;a ser guardado pera sempre&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;um bloco de anotações&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;um lenço dobrado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Como pássaro de sal com plumas de água&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;o mar levantou vôo na memória&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;como as pandorgas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;que se enforcam nos fios&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Aquele mar se afogou no tempo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;escapou das mãos como um peixe pequeno&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;"&gt;(Nei Duclós no livro OUTUBRO)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&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/8816311245663907249-7357219905297631539?l=arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/7357219905297631539/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8816311245663907249&amp;postID=7357219905297631539&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/7357219905297631539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/7357219905297631539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/2009/03/mas-o-vento-e-simples-seu-segredo-e.html' title='Sonhos do poeta'/><author><name>Juliana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02919999833292554313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_07c7oRWkB08/SGN9X73C7CI/AAAAAAAAA9o/Zw-fCwrsr3s/s72-c/dias%2Bfelizes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8816311245663907249.post-5181101071209670522</id><published>2009-03-26T15:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T11:44:40.709-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poeta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Outubro'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='citações'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Porto Alegre'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sorriso'/><title type='text'>QUERO UM SORRISO!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;"Quero um sorriso que dure uma quadra e dobre a esquina a iluminar-me"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Nei Duclós em OUTUBRO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,102); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;O POETA DO POVO O &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;livro Outubro, &lt;/span&gt;lançado em 1975, é uma articulação dos poemas que Duclós foi soltando primeiro nas praças (da Alfândega, em Porto Alegre, da República em São Paulo, e General Osório, no Rio). Eram escritos com pincel atômico em cartolina branca - o máximo de estética que a radicalidade permitia - ou faziam parte de edições mimeografadas junto com outros dois autores (Marco Celso Viola e Mariza Scopel). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,102); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UMA VELHA MALA DE COURO São dessa época os principais poemas, os outros surgiram, na sequência, acumulando-se numa &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;velha mala de couro&lt;/span&gt; carregados pelos empregos jornalísticos afora do autor. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,102); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O LIVRO DE UMA GERAÇÃO Se reuniram Claudio Levitan, Caio Fernando Abreu, Juarez Fonseca e Ida Duclós para definir aquilo que a mala pedia: &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;o livro de uma geração&lt;/span&gt;. A estréia foi viabilizada pela grandeza da então diretora do Instituto Estadual do Livro do Rio Grande do Sul, Lygia Averbruck. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;poema de hoje:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;QUERO UM SORRISO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,102)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;Quero um sorriso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;que dure uma quadra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;e dobre a esquina&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;a iluminar-me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;uma lágrima&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;sem consolo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;que traga um soluço&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;de dez minutos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;um corpo que aperte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;com fogo de inferno&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;uma dor que desperte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;um ruído que abra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;qualquer coisa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;forte&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;que rasgue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"&gt;(Nei Duclós em OUTUBRO)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3145/3080794069_651b196745_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 488px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 393px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3145/3080794069_651b196745_o.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,102)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"&gt;O verso de "Quero um sorriso" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="http://outubro.blogspot.com/2009/02/meu-verso-na-revista-caras.html"&gt;saiu recentemente na seção FOCO da revista CARAS&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"&gt; e rapidamente se espalhou na rede, conquistando uma nova geração, afinal, quem não quer um sorriso assim? ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;* &lt;em&gt;foto: ) Livro com marcações do poeta á lápis.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8816311245663907249-5181101071209670522?l=arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/5181101071209670522/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8816311245663907249&amp;postID=5181101071209670522&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/5181101071209670522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/5181101071209670522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/2009/03/quero-um-sorriso.html' title='QUERO UM SORRISO!'/><author><name>Juliana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02919999833292554313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8816311245663907249.post-282168154822895396</id><published>2009-03-26T11:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T11:46:15.447-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Quintana'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Outubro'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poesia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='citação'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='citações'/><title type='text'>OUTUBRO - 1975 (Livro de Estréia)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3013/2769237714_8aacc0943d_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 496px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 730px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3013/2769237714_8aacc0943d_o.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"&gt;*No quintal da casa de Ipanema em Porto Alegre, na época do lançamento de Outubro. Foto de Eneida Serrano.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(51,0,153)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;Uma citação antológica:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,0,153)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,102)"&gt;(...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(51,0,153)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,102)"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ney Gastal - Três poetas da nova geração e do teu agrado?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,102)"&gt;Mario Quintana - Daqui dos pagos ? Ayala, Duclós, Nejar, Trevisan, em ordem alfabética.&lt;br /&gt;(...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"&gt;links:&lt;a href="http://www.estado.rs.gov.br/marioquintana/entrevistas/CONTA%20O%20POETA.pdf"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Entrevista completa que Mário Quintana deu à Ney Gastal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://outubro.blogspot.com/2008/11/quintana-uma-citao-antolgica.html"&gt;- Post de Nei Duclós no Diário da Fonte sobre a citação&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;poema do dia:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;OUTUBRO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;Trago a nova: eu mudo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;lento, e é tudo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;Sinto ser assim&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;por estações: aos turnos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;Posso voltar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;ao ponto de partida&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;mas luto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;Sei que vem outubro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;Flores, fruto de seiva&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;romperão no mundo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;(Trabalho duro:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;sugar de pedras&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;rasgar os caules&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;colher ar puro)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;Lento e bruto&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;eu mudo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;Sei que vem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;outubro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;(Nei Duclós no livro "Outubro" 1975)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8816311245663907249-282168154822895396?l=arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/feeds/282168154822895396/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8816311245663907249&amp;postID=282168154822895396&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/282168154822895396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8816311245663907249/posts/default/282168154822895396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://arquivosdopoeta.blogspot.com/2009/03/outubro-trago-nova-eu-mudo-lento-e-e.html' title='OUTUBRO - 1975 (Livro de Estréia)'/><author><name>Juliana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02919999833292554313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
