tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32707040206654660122012-02-16T22:02:33.897-03:00Algumas percepções de um coração solto no mundo (vivendo)...Paula Vanessa Queirozhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323745894923674700noreply@blogger.comBlogger141100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270704020665466012.post-59114572166302089542012-02-02T16:23:00.000-03:002012-02-02T16:23:02.855-03:00Tantos caminhos paralelos<br />Acabaram sendo certos<br />Mas como é incerto o fato<br />A surpresa que ele traz<br />Sentimento inexato<br />Ausência da não presença<br />Mundo inesperado<br />Almas conexas<br />Banzo aumentado<br />Será o acaso?<br />E a falta que eu não tenho<br />É a vontade de te ter<br />E conseguir ver o visível<br />Sinto teu olhar<br />Navegar no teu paladar <br />E cheirar tua energia<br />É tranquilidade do mar<br />É o fogo da sinestesia!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270704020665466012-5911457216630208954?l=reticenciasou.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Paula Vanessa Queirozhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323745894923674700noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270704020665466012.post-26105580016359787272012-02-02T16:15:00.002-03:002012-02-02T16:15:22.084-03:00Ah Recife!<br />Teus morros sorrindo<br />e teu mar chorando<br />Teu povo clama<br />os hômi enriquece<br />a natureza padece<br />E os teu rio se convalesce<br />da cidadania que apodrece...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270704020665466012-2610558001635978727?l=reticenciasou.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Paula Vanessa Queirozhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323745894923674700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270704020665466012.post-45169453308171001092012-02-02T16:05:00.000-03:002012-02-02T16:05:19.611-03:00Idílio é o que passa<br />a minha pele<br />longe da tua<br />Ela, solitária<br />anseia pelo teu órgão quente<br />Cobrindo-a inteira<br />feito rosas silvestres<br />ainda úmidas...<br />Que desabrocham<br />o universo<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270704020665466012-4516945330817100109?l=reticenciasou.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Paula Vanessa Queirozhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323745894923674700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270704020665466012.post-29142816222827079092012-02-02T15:59:00.000-03:002012-02-02T15:59:29.329-03:00Todas as poesias tem nome<br />Até aquelas que não tem<br />Porque em prosa<br />ou em verso<br />As palavras proseam,<br />versam<br />Ocultam<br />Mas não é uma procura culta<br />Basta ligar os sentidos<br />que se aparece<br />o que (não) foi dito<br />Indefinido<br />nada mais é que o sujeito<br />que geralmente, enquanto objeto<br />dificilmente é direto<br />Indireto sempre é o sentimento!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270704020665466012-2914281622282707909?l=reticenciasou.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Paula Vanessa Queirozhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323745894923674700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270704020665466012.post-64978236121333445292011-11-30T17:39:00.001-03:002011-12-01T15:24:03.466-03:00A vidádiva<br />dadiva<br />Pode acabar no divã!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270704020665466012-6497823612133344529?l=reticenciasou.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Paula Vanessa Queirozhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323745894923674700noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270704020665466012.post-18620398848871355982011-11-30T16:35:00.000-03:002011-11-30T16:35:06.911-03:00Não preciso de muitas palavras<br />palavras roucas, vazias,<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; [toscas]<br />Não preciso de muita coisa<br />promessas fugidias<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; [repetidas]<br />Não preciso do universo<br />nem ao menos de algo submisso<br />Não há o por quê<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; [denominações]<br />Só quero o teu silêncio estar<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; [contigo]<br />Teu olhar basta para que meu coração<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;[alegre-se!]<br />Tua boca afaga minh'alma<br />Sorri teu peito para meu <br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; [corpo]<br />O que é teu amor<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; [meu]<br />não consegue preencher <br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; [linhas abstratas]<br />Letras desenhadas, criptografadas<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; [na emoção]<br />Cresce sério<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; [tu e eu]<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270704020665466012-1862039884887135598?l=reticenciasou.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Paula Vanessa Queirozhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323745894923674700noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270704020665466012.post-46519768499358805882011-11-21T15:08:00.000-03:002011-11-21T15:08:08.629-03:00Tuas mãos imprimem<br />não mentem<br />Expressam a gente<br />o gesto<br />o gosto<br />A alma registra<br />eternamente<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270704020665466012-4651976849935880588?l=reticenciasou.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Paula Vanessa Queirozhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323745894923674700noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270704020665466012.post-38025905674586633282011-11-21T15:05:00.001-03:002011-11-21T15:06:57.515-03:00Era música<br />e suor<br />e cachaça<br />Era alegria<br />e furor <br />e fantasia<br />Era sinestesia<br />e simplicidade<br />É a poesia<br />que resiste<br />em meio à cidade<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270704020665466012-3802590567458663328?l=reticenciasou.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Paula Vanessa Queirozhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323745894923674700noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270704020665466012.post-8429664882323570332011-11-18T16:26:00.000-03:002011-11-18T16:26:09.341-03:00Ser gostosa é ir além gozo<br />e marcar o gosto<br />não gasto<br />do sexo na boca.<br />Fazer delirar teu sangue<br />rezar a pagã tua alma<br />extasiar tua carne<br />até a morte da língua<br />dentro e fora....<br />Dentro e fora.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270704020665466012-842966488232357033?l=reticenciasou.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Paula Vanessa Queirozhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323745894923674700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270704020665466012.post-53399930317119582552011-11-18T16:19:00.000-03:002011-11-18T16:19:49.709-03:00Vem!<br />E faz da minha cama poesia<br />Da boca<br />um barco pelo teu corpo<br />Tempestade<br />desejo ou loucura?<br />Te mordo, te chupo<br />Querendo talvez sugar minha parte<br />que desconfio que há em ti<br />Nossas mãos dão forma<br />à nossa pele<br />Invadem minha vulva<br />tuas palavras<br />Por instantes tu reges minha voz<br />e o meu silêncio<br />Explodo, explode<br />um sussurro de repente grita:<br />o que foi isso?<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270704020665466012-5339993031711958255?l=reticenciasou.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Paula Vanessa Queirozhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323745894923674700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270704020665466012.post-2328538504913800302011-11-10T15:47:00.002-03:002011-11-10T15:47:31.937-03:00Tua voz é vermelha<br />Meu grito avermelhou<br />Viva!<br />Rasga minha pele<br />(é vermelho abaixo dela) <br />Segue-me com teus olhos<br />Coma o desejo pelos meus lábios<br />Engula meu suspiro<br /><br />PV<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270704020665466012-232853850491380030?l=reticenciasou.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Paula Vanessa Queirozhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323745894923674700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270704020665466012.post-48567691130728666002011-11-10T15:12:00.002-03:002011-11-10T15:12:28.517-03:00A pedra estava lá<br />e lá vem o caminho<br />A pedra está lá<br />e lá vem o caminho<br />Lá vem o caminho<br />Cuidado<br />Fuja Dona Pedra!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270704020665466012-4856769113072866600?l=reticenciasou.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Paula Vanessa Queirozhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323745894923674700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270704020665466012.post-90353469657828491132011-11-10T14:49:00.003-03:002011-11-18T18:50:09.040-03:00Com a face ruborizada<br /><div>encontrei um pelo teu na minha pele</div><div>Ainda exalava o cheiro do nosso sexo roubado</div><div>Quando as marcas da tua voz em mim</div><div>ditavam nosso movimento</div><div>E o teu olhar será de hoje em diante o depósito do meu</div><div>desejo pelo corpo teu</div><div>O segredo como fronte nos desafiou</div><div>a comer, lamber o frio&nbsp;</div><div>Que fazia tremer a barriga</div><div>Linda!</div><div>Na fresta da janela, a mata a nos espiar</div><div>Voa!</div><div>O céu é alto</div><div>mas desato meu medo</div><div>E amarro no passo</div><div>nossa Liberdade</div><div>Ah, o cheiro!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270704020665466012-9035346965782849113?l=reticenciasou.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Paula Vanessa Queirozhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323745894923674700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270704020665466012.post-63137871039863104022011-11-10T14:41:00.002-03:002011-11-12T12:03:30.136-03:00SerTão das palma <br />SerTão dos mandacaru<br />SerTão das aroeira<br />SerTão das alma farta<br /><br />SerTão das andiroba<br />do umbuzeiro<br />do juazeiro<br />SerTão das viola<br /><br />SerTão das fulô<br />Do céu claro cheio de estrela<br />Da lua redonda atrás da cerca<br />SerTão dos amô<br /><br />Os amô do SerTão <br />Ah! Como é bão<br />Dar um cheiro no cangote<br />Um pé-de-serra no vestido<br />E o coração salta num pinote<br /><br />SerTão...<br />Do sabiá<br />Da leucena<br />E do cajá<br /><br />Ai meu Deus!<br />Queria ser o caju<br />Que na boca coloca tu<br />no SerTão.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270704020665466012-6313787103986310402?l=reticenciasou.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Paula Vanessa Queirozhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08323745894923674700noreply@blogger.com0