tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13788155335422230382024-03-20T08:07:14.142-07:00Biblioteca CaóticaCláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comBlogger141125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-50357692399135914092024-02-17T16:37:00.000-08:002024-02-17T16:37:13.207-08:00É tempo ainda<p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> Desde o fim da tarde </p><p>Me pego a observar</p><p>O ar fresco</p><p>A vida que brota</p><p>A calma de um sábado</p><p>Num solo onde me sinto raiz</p><p>Cuidei da terra</p><p>E vejo crescer as árvores que plantei </p><p>Vejo as cores das flores</p><p>Os tons de verde</p><p>Posso ouvir o canto dos pássaros</p><p>Que cada vez mais</p><p>Vêm me visitar</p><p>Os tempos são difíceis </p><p>Mas como dizia Brecht</p><p>Também há de se cantar os tempos de escuridão</p><p>Mas esses tempos são mais de claridade</p><p>Luzes elétricas e excesso de calor</p><p>A claridade que hipnotiza</p><p>Seduz pelo consumo</p><p>E destrói a mãe natureza.</p>Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-67374410893527343462023-11-06T15:03:00.001-08:002023-11-06T16:38:00.286-08:00Andanças<p><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Tanto escrevi sobre o tempo</span><br /><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Sem, no entanto, senti-lo passar</span><br /><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Agora olho o passado </span><br /><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Com certo estranhamento</span><br /><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Querendo encontrar vestígios de mim</span><br /><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Quando vejo num filme antigo uma frase de T.S. Eliot</span><br /><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Que li há décadas porque ouvi a referência numa música do Bob Dylan</span><br /><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Pergunto à mim mesma</span><br /><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Que restou daquele 'eu' perdido nas bibliotecas?</span><br /><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Que tinha mais sonhos</span><br /><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">E mais melancolia?</span><br /><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">O quanto os dias de sol</span><br /><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">As andanças na areia quente</span><br /><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">As trilhas na floresta</span><br /><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Os pés na grama verde</span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></p><p><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Afastaram </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">as sombras da morte que caminhavam comigo?</span></p>Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-57707615312500646052023-11-04T15:51:00.000-07:002023-11-04T15:51:01.320-07:00Não quero ver imagens da guerra<p> Não quero ver as imagens da guerra</p><p>Nem por isso ela deixa de existir</p><p>Não quero ver, mas sinto que preciso saber o que se passa</p><p>E vejo mensagens</p><p>Ouço relatos, notícias</p><p>Universidades destruídas</p><p>Corpos apodrecendo ao relento</p><p>Crianças pagando com a vida</p><p>O mar estava agitado</p><p>O dia calmo</p><p>Mas bombas explodem longe daqui</p><p>E milhares de corpos inocentes pagam pela intransigência do poder</p><p>Aqui também acontece a guerra</p><p>Um líder indígena é morto por lutar por sua terra</p><p>Jovens são mortos todos os dias</p><p>A gente se acostuma,</p><p>Mas não devia</p><p>É preciso parar a guerra</p>Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-71190069774952533612023-10-29T18:13:00.001-07:002023-11-04T15:49:42.849-07:00O sol<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip1jZsCdMd0aJTjUsDuUc5pv00zhy3TLZrS68izY8DziamQDdQ-Yt-cQN_hxkmjLi2Ec5l7iF7w06ark-p8CQY6H6pNCz_yepzoD20mLcVMNHbJXoqGRPckrJntAmQ1S7Upr9kBvXlON4-PhhvkXjWfcDrmCMvlP09bZS9GKmrwW-kMGwYoyUQWtC9Wpsl/s4080/IMG_20231029_175909778_MP.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4080" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip1jZsCdMd0aJTjUsDuUc5pv00zhy3TLZrS68izY8DziamQDdQ-Yt-cQN_hxkmjLi2Ec5l7iF7w06ark-p8CQY6H6pNCz_yepzoD20mLcVMNHbJXoqGRPckrJntAmQ1S7Upr9kBvXlON4-PhhvkXjWfcDrmCMvlP09bZS9GKmrwW-kMGwYoyUQWtC9Wpsl/s320/IMG_20231029_175909778_MP.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: black; font-size: 14px;">O sol brilhou com força neste domingo, mas parece que em breve a chuva vai voltar. Tem dado pra sentir na pele a questão das mudanças no clima. Será que ainda temos ponto de retorno? Destruição, guerras de milícias por aqui, um guerra terrível contra o povo Palestino, que não é o Hamas. Me vejo longe do cenário do caos, tento não ver muitas imagens, me informo, mas não assisto demais, pra não me deixar afetar. Precisamos estar vivas e fortes se quisermos seguir.</span></p>Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-3474526561959371432023-10-14T20:31:00.003-07:002023-10-15T16:47:24.530-07:00Chão<p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Saio desse chão de solidão</p><p>Mergulho no ser mais profundo</p><p><br /></p><p>Fecho os olhos, </p><p>Inspiro</p><p>E sinto dentro de mim uma alma.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipfoK-fBP8KROVuFCpQHUlX_gZwuS-XL8RzCY9J8Q1SF6Sd4M0gGHBq-umW4_jO_wyoVUtgtqOkrcIkUlCidiGqhW44TCXozRTvKmssDwBH1CUW9TaZGW6fTh3xBHin8B_vBO3SOd-KTti_URLe-w2mCzn7UdUoO3nK2wJrucUuViBliq8qW4-HIRVSfN9/s4080/IMG_20231013_175031742_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4080" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipfoK-fBP8KROVuFCpQHUlX_gZwuS-XL8RzCY9J8Q1SF6Sd4M0gGHBq-umW4_jO_wyoVUtgtqOkrcIkUlCidiGqhW44TCXozRTvKmssDwBH1CUW9TaZGW6fTh3xBHin8B_vBO3SOd-KTti_URLe-w2mCzn7UdUoO3nK2wJrucUuViBliq8qW4-HIRVSfN9/s320/IMG_20231013_175031742_HDR.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Fotografia em 13 de outubro da orquídea que ganhei da Érica - Jardim de Abayomi</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-33252172421536152162023-10-04T06:32:00.004-07:002023-10-04T06:32:56.464-07:00Durezas<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfRTsRCrSOBI_4DnEwX_-0X1cmOxEGQgyxjJG-Jjil6ZDtTxQw8NDqvxN1R1duDsur7qH5ApN5Jx5ygwcDQPVa6Fwi0YIimFiyxeMbgR5eJkiu-1PURoF9bP8Ra8DbKi9XqhY80Oz6JQuyAa4HeAOomgXZHzCSqVqYqFBRMzjoJRpfHRBI39dfjdvY22-d/s4080/IMG_20231004_101907825_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4080" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfRTsRCrSOBI_4DnEwX_-0X1cmOxEGQgyxjJG-Jjil6ZDtTxQw8NDqvxN1R1duDsur7qH5ApN5Jx5ygwcDQPVa6Fwi0YIimFiyxeMbgR5eJkiu-1PURoF9bP8Ra8DbKi9XqhY80Oz6JQuyAa4HeAOomgXZHzCSqVqYqFBRMzjoJRpfHRBI39dfjdvY22-d/s320/IMG_20231004_101907825_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> <p></p><div style="text-align: left;">A vida é dura às vezes, </div><div style="text-align: left;">Na verdade, quando precisamos estar imersas no mundo</div><div style="text-align: left;">Na rotina do trabalho e das instituições </div><div style="text-align: left;">Ela é dura muitas vezes.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Chegamos muitas vezes exaustas</div><div style="text-align: left;">Sentindo que somos incapazes</div><div style="text-align: left;">De resolver a maioria dos conflitos</div><div style="text-align: left;">Sofrimentos, problemas</div><div style="text-align: left;">Que se abrem no nosso convívio</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">É preciso ser forte</div><div style="text-align: left;">Resistir</div><div style="text-align: left;">Permanecer</div><div style="text-align: left;">É o jardim que me sustenta</div><div style="text-align: left;">Que me impede de fugir</div><div style="text-align: left;">Uma fuga imprecisa, é certo</div><div style="text-align: left;">Mas um desejo de fuga</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">É o jardim que me faz aquietar</div><div style="text-align: left;">Respirar</div><div style="text-align: left;">Silenciar por uns instantes</div><div style="text-align: left;">O turbilhão de pensamentos que acompanha o</div><div style="text-align: left;">Estar no mundo.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">E é preciso estar no mundo</div><div style="text-align: left;">É pra isso que estamos aqui.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-20243119308510292362023-08-17T18:58:00.001-07:002023-08-17T18:58:06.168-07:00Paz<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA7_QHGp5lNFGNKVW_SU5MEyf2cejFaRDyYT3DnxUUSVUp5E7uAz9Io7tCYe1sd22Ei22i20GJraW8w7EAcr1u44G5KmZLukF5pdvGiqCXZ4_S28DJ6EjKCp3w-hnC3Q7d8ZcTYcVI9cD8lpd2GJzjsEIqiDD1xWBYFp17X6QqvuKAuX-ufhdx5p19Vqad/s1600/Photo0201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA7_QHGp5lNFGNKVW_SU5MEyf2cejFaRDyYT3DnxUUSVUp5E7uAz9Io7tCYe1sd22Ei22i20GJraW8w7EAcr1u44G5KmZLukF5pdvGiqCXZ4_S28DJ6EjKCp3w-hnC3Q7d8ZcTYcVI9cD8lpd2GJzjsEIqiDD1xWBYFp17X6QqvuKAuX-ufhdx5p19Vqad/s320/Photo0201.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Reescrever a vida</div><div style="text-align: left;">Encontrar novos caminhos</div><div style="text-align: left;">Esquecer o desatino</div><div style="text-align: left;">E seguir em frente</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Remover o pó que se acumula</div><div style="text-align: left;">Nas pesadas linhas do tempo</div><div style="text-align: left;">Fazer do caos</div><div style="text-align: left;">Um novo recomeço</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Compreender a dor</div><div style="text-align: left;">Que parecia estar ausente</div><div style="text-align: left;">Um ferida de décadas</div><div style="text-align: left;">Que se fez presente</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Entender que a dor faz parte</div><div style="text-align: left;">Sem ter desassossego</div><div style="text-align: left;">Passa, tudo passa</div><div style="text-align: left;">Até mesmo a vida</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">E que fazer?</div><div style="text-align: left;">Não há nada a fazer</div><div style="text-align: left;">Ficar em paz e respirar</div><div style="text-align: left;">Enquanto ainda estou presente.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">POema escrito em 17 de agosto de 2023. Dedicado à Elsa e Otto.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Foto de 18 de novembro de 2016.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-81630682262512213962023-08-09T10:54:00.004-07:002023-08-13T12:46:29.341-07:00Memory<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqTxlb-LOqDgLO6VSNsuy7n5kYARCdMhHpouK7UPPAWJLVRNvcC_sCyBzA432Hkvh5w-ycYRc4S1hwT7uW4KpAnTJzXZ3J5vW9mdOhKC0APgDUL_JY5ghuxWRPE1S26YrI-BRhnqNG0ktszi3EhlGXnFZsLlGgDhQBKD7tA7fkWS-s64oqndA9dsmxIHK8/s1158/WhatsApp%20Image%202023-08-09%20at%2014.45.47.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="869" data-original-width="1158" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqTxlb-LOqDgLO6VSNsuy7n5kYARCdMhHpouK7UPPAWJLVRNvcC_sCyBzA432Hkvh5w-ycYRc4S1hwT7uW4KpAnTJzXZ3J5vW9mdOhKC0APgDUL_JY5ghuxWRPE1S26YrI-BRhnqNG0ktszi3EhlGXnFZsLlGgDhQBKD7tA7fkWS-s64oqndA9dsmxIHK8/s320/WhatsApp%20Image%202023-08-09%20at%2014.45.47.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>I bring you in my heart, father</p><p>I'm so grateful</p><p>For the life</p><p>Music</p><p>For the wildness</p><p>Force</p><p>And the calm that I can see in your eyes</p><p>I'm grateful for my sister</p><p>And for your sister, too</p><p><br /></p><p>Poema escrito em 2022, fotografia sem data com inscrição "Antônio - Cláudio - Teobaldo". Agradeço imensamente à Sofia Aseff pela revisão do texto.</p>Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-15551823064432958232023-07-23T15:34:00.003-07:002023-08-13T14:16:48.936-07:00Mergulho<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p><p dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-306e3ed0-7fff-bb61-fe74-66467b8d4662" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Desaguo desse mar de desencanto</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Retiro meus andrajos</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Visto roupa limpa</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Aromo a casa com cravo</span></span></p><span style="color: #93c47d;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">As distâncias não são medidas exatas</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Vem e vão no tempo</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Que não é linear como se crê</span></span></p><span style="color: #93c47d;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Emerjo das águas profundas com nova vida</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Embora com mais sinais na face</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Essa mesma que traz cicatrizes antigas</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">De tempos que tinham luz diferente</span></span></p><span style="color: #93c47d;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Retorno desse mergulho d’alma</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">E não estou confusa</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Nem desatenta</span></span></p><span style="color: #93c47d;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Trago novo entendimento</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Da crueza da vida</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Dos descompassos humanos</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Das dificuldades do amor. </span></span></p><span style="color: #93c47d;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Escrito em 21 de julho de 2023.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #93c47d;"><span face="Arial,sans-serif" style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Fotografia de 01 de agosto 2023.</span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBhOMUX0TsoXx6aKmEJ1TZHMt08YaCLc99r05J6ZqNobKGfsRCOGgwuxf9EBL3qN_k6FIlPhwpyO1ztxtTHT5HNHHJ0DzHKsypPuwq1i2Rz_eEYqev_1t_iWVnlqoL80X6D6PJIRbIXer020J4-1zh2NfUGfaAa_YWAu4uNMXH33ZAOb5TtVVgGMKO13RB/s4632/IMG_20230801_182016212.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3474" data-original-width="4632" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBhOMUX0TsoXx6aKmEJ1TZHMt08YaCLc99r05J6ZqNobKGfsRCOGgwuxf9EBL3qN_k6FIlPhwpyO1ztxtTHT5HNHHJ0DzHKsypPuwq1i2Rz_eEYqev_1t_iWVnlqoL80X6D6PJIRbIXer020J4-1zh2NfUGfaAa_YWAu4uNMXH33ZAOb5TtVVgGMKO13RB/s320/IMG_20230801_182016212.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-1692175612434274332023-07-11T19:35:00.003-07:002023-07-11T19:36:44.342-07:00Sempre em frente<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg32oQTcJhJyXGgdVJxC8D4Dbd9CWvRMtR24HOiP5RHRVlVxp1-pAJBOqq8CzOy_rYITMvSiVoLuLPO3g8aLOVhm0IGpygNjHJZbFraL9erecij-P0yTepiVYdpOcEtFZDYlZC07ByE5gxWnFbt0xM9LJ2RVA-HHYVo3pAIgCJETqqj3hOk8lVvfDYFldrN/s1158/rosa.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1158" data-original-width="869" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg32oQTcJhJyXGgdVJxC8D4Dbd9CWvRMtR24HOiP5RHRVlVxp1-pAJBOqq8CzOy_rYITMvSiVoLuLPO3g8aLOVhm0IGpygNjHJZbFraL9erecij-P0yTepiVYdpOcEtFZDYlZC07ByE5gxWnFbt0xM9LJ2RVA-HHYVo3pAIgCJETqqj3hOk8lVvfDYFldrN/s320/rosa.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p> </p><p>Não temo mais pelo descompasso<br />Nem acho encanto no atropelo<br />A magia não está no efêmero<br />Nem tampouco na permanência<br />Seguem dentro de mim as memórias do vivido<br />E a plenitude de dias que talvez não sejam reais<br />E quando olho pro presente, todos esses restos, fragmentos, fazem parte<br />Não sou a mesma menina que já tinha umas cicatrizes<br />Tenho outras,<br />Algumas físicas<br />Outras espirituais,<br />Emocionais<br />Sei de quase todos os meus erros<br />E não me arrependo<br />Fazem parte<br />E sempre existirão<br />Não tenho a pretensão de ser perfeita<br />Sou humana e faço o que posso<br />É, ainda reclamo demais e sou preguiçosa.</p><p>Poema escrito em 11 de julho, fotografia de do dia 1o do mesmo mês de 2023. <br /></p>Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-51631327338133675632023-07-04T09:20:00.005-07:002023-07-04T19:03:19.675-07:00She<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi24H4__g7a-XkzAlcITR-5H4v2xRtgHpG2gG8tm9JDIl7LYsG_abokjeGUphRDPRRkYAb6fAySeux08MmBPvm5YBwJ64Oq0jwcGjm4OGjz1LuyhNEFouArBWcY8aSyx0yGXAqh_EFaXzxKAUjEcfZeq_M1BNjSM3Sm7qz5dheGB5NI1DMdEil7dPobefXd/s1040/IMG-20230101-WA0032.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1040" data-original-width="780" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi24H4__g7a-XkzAlcITR-5H4v2xRtgHpG2gG8tm9JDIl7LYsG_abokjeGUphRDPRRkYAb6fAySeux08MmBPvm5YBwJ64Oq0jwcGjm4OGjz1LuyhNEFouArBWcY8aSyx0yGXAqh_EFaXzxKAUjEcfZeq_M1BNjSM3Sm7qz5dheGB5NI1DMdEil7dPobefXd/s320/IMG-20230101-WA0032.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-4eaa080d-7fff-30eb-2b7a-f236ddb8ae3a" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">she sleeps in the sand</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">in a perfect blue sky</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">she feels the moon</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">every day</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">she cry a few days</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">but she smiles many others</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">she is human</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">and want to be loved</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">she listens to summertime</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">and she walks on the street</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">she is free</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">and happy because she owns herself</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Poema escrito em 04/07/2023. Foto do sol nascente do primeiro dia do ano por Érica Polo.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Gracias à Sofia Assef pela correção. </span></p>Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-32585135742117692782023-06-23T18:13:00.003-07:002023-06-23T18:30:04.562-07:00Ressurgir<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizjGeXVWub8cmRfZkOvTI29-5wiym0fgj8OI0t4ySJUX3zdtus3M0Km3yxDx5cCP6KtPD_svWe174YyH__GxY06F4WonqErdPYfHqOBMhE6H_YIaP6PXV8XoAK0j7c2XSLQdVnV6zG94FsALbwsqCERi65K9Ah9fG0A3NQ1_suiARJI3u9XXl3hP0xLGYF/s4632/IMG_20230620_143541853.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3474" data-original-width="4632" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizjGeXVWub8cmRfZkOvTI29-5wiym0fgj8OI0t4ySJUX3zdtus3M0Km3yxDx5cCP6KtPD_svWe174YyH__GxY06F4WonqErdPYfHqOBMhE6H_YIaP6PXV8XoAK0j7c2XSLQdVnV6zG94FsALbwsqCERi65K9Ah9fG0A3NQ1_suiARJI3u9XXl3hP0xLGYF/s320/IMG_20230620_143541853.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">A lua fina como uma navalha</div><div style="text-align: left;">Despontava no céu</div><div style="text-align: left;">O frio até que era ameno</div><div style="text-align: left;">Mas lembrava aquelas noites mais longas</div><div style="text-align: left;">De frio mais intenso </div><div style="text-align: left;">À margem do mundo</div><div style="text-align: left;">Numa casa de barro e terra</div><div style="text-align: left;">O fogo queimando</div><div style="text-align: left;">Para aquecer os corpos</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Foi onde nasci</div><div style="text-align: left;">E são memórias que não tenho</div><div style="text-align: left;">Mas que fazem parte de mim</div><div style="text-align: left;">Que sentido haverá nisso tudo?</div><div style="text-align: left;">O amor, ah o amor,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Como se fosse algo mágico encontrado pelo caminho.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Já não acredito mais nesse amor romântico</div><div style="text-align: left;">Mas a fé retorna aos poucos</div><div style="text-align: left;">Como das cinzas</div><div style="text-align: left;">A fé no sentido da vida.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Terá de haver algo maior </div><div style="text-align: left;">Que explique todas essas inquietações e sofrimentos</div><div style="text-align: left;">Enquanto vou buscando esses sentidos</div><div style="text-align: left;">Cultivo meu jardim</div><div style="text-align: left;">E tenho a certeza das vidas que brotam e se propagam.</div><div style="text-align: left;">E morrem também, como tudo um dia. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Pra ressurgir, renascer, permanecer em espírito.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">A primeira frase veio de uma memória da minha mãe, dos poemas que ela riscava à faca na máquina de costura.</div><div style="text-align: left;">A foto é do meu (nosso) jardim de 20 de junho de 2023, primeiro dia do meu ciclo menstrual. A lua fina como uma navalha não pôde ser visualizada neste Junho porque o tempo estava nublado. Escrevo na noite do dia 23.</div>Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-25286041060194904952023-06-06T19:31:00.000-07:002023-06-06T19:31:50.874-07:00Para ver o sol<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxpmwZSfonOLEg3euv5sWorVLn0_w65ClILBhNGHfVxsp8seedjH6O2WmWV0uFGRQJzGUNjTE4EeMi5FGHtGp2bz3tH2dIkO2Y_LyMWy5igYf5qx7q8UYOqYx4GQy4OcrpvWON6RPfnSqUOh7m99Ycuxqly_pBKt76i7jS9HNE_V3u0fSdcAos1R_amA/s2368/IMG_20201102_052314739.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1332" data-original-width="2368" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxpmwZSfonOLEg3euv5sWorVLn0_w65ClILBhNGHfVxsp8seedjH6O2WmWV0uFGRQJzGUNjTE4EeMi5FGHtGp2bz3tH2dIkO2Y_LyMWy5igYf5qx7q8UYOqYx4GQy4OcrpvWON6RPfnSqUOh7m99Ycuxqly_pBKt76i7jS9HNE_V3u0fSdcAos1R_amA/s320/IMG_20201102_052314739.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><div style="text-align: left;">Há poesia na rosa <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">E também no espinho.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Tenho muitos sonhos</div><div style="text-align: left;">Gritos desesperados</div><div style="text-align: left;">Vozes rebeldes</div><div style="text-align: left;">E algumas doses de insensatez.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Canto sons inebriantes</div><div style="text-align: left;">Habito noites sem sono</div><div style="text-align: left;">Tenho palavras não ditas</div><div style="text-align: left;">E voando em torno de mim</div><div style="text-align: left;">Mosquitos verdes da incompreensão.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Há poesia no grito</div><div style="text-align: left;">E também no silêncio.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Ouço muitas vozes</div><div style="text-align: left;">Não tenho voz!</div><div style="text-align: left;">E grito no silêncio perturbador da melancolia,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Sempre correndo para ver o sol.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Poema escrito em Pelotas, 30 de maio de 2004. Fotografia do sol nascendo na praia do Moçambique, em 02 de novembro de 2020.<br /></div>Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-9369984066506944532023-06-04T16:39:00.000-07:002023-06-04T16:39:03.543-07:00A paz da morte<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ3rmPPRPDsAn6XfZ6crCJs49w-dLjZV1COoLAsGXzOv69oNXaA-JrakurSgYSq4o50cRdRwi_U3WTTEltcudguTOK-JO6o44pTEtG57xl6ZCOAMc4oNHpTJyP712sIXgjaMNS58vILXMktTsD1LRXAni0PPC1nAGbKB32GjlRDPNPvwsFgwGc0Qp5rg/s4632/IMG_20211215_155522569.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4632" data-original-width="3474" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ3rmPPRPDsAn6XfZ6crCJs49w-dLjZV1COoLAsGXzOv69oNXaA-JrakurSgYSq4o50cRdRwi_U3WTTEltcudguTOK-JO6o44pTEtG57xl6ZCOAMc4oNHpTJyP712sIXgjaMNS58vILXMktTsD1LRXAni0PPC1nAGbKB32GjlRDPNPvwsFgwGc0Qp5rg/s320/IMG_20211215_155522569.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><div style="text-align: left;">Chegando</div><div style="text-align: left;">Eu vi aquela paz.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Que paz era aquela?</div><div style="text-align: left;">Paz da guerra entre os mortos.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Paz doente, após a tempestade devastar.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">A paz silenciosa do medo não abandona.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Segue sempre dentro de nossos corações.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Dias feios de angústia</div><div style="text-align: left;">Dias de paz sem ter havido equilíbrio.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Paz da fome dos que descansam em paz.</div><div style="text-align: left;">E há cinzas</div><div style="text-align: left;">Do incêndio das vozes caladas</div><div style="text-align: left;">Pra manter a paz cruel,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Fétida, inescrupulosa. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Paz,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Para não ferir teus olhos com o caos.</div><div style="text-align: left;">O preço da paz é nosso sangue.</div><div style="text-align: left;">E não é paz à teu lado,</div><div style="text-align: left;">É guerra.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Escrito em Pelotas ago/set 2001. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Fotografia de dezembro de 2021. <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-35813686752856160142023-04-23T16:16:00.002-07:002023-04-23T16:16:45.397-07:00Cada dia<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggPDo15YKSirYZwQQkgzFLR1wvCs_63Y0zd0i4yD2XtnvqPKgr0K0Jjq5ZbjOiIy0TrKlN06CYWpfjJs27rqHWQfqZFvcTPwVRVk1qLHDMAfc5x0g8ybDgzzYVnFVauILWAI35Bh1RusepYuKTBVKbatk3asLNvqpClvTUQZp6A5C3Nuf1mHCpvPRBdA/s4632/IMG_20230421_165340736.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3474" data-original-width="4632" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggPDo15YKSirYZwQQkgzFLR1wvCs_63Y0zd0i4yD2XtnvqPKgr0K0Jjq5ZbjOiIy0TrKlN06CYWpfjJs27rqHWQfqZFvcTPwVRVk1qLHDMAfc5x0g8ybDgzzYVnFVauILWAI35Bh1RusepYuKTBVKbatk3asLNvqpClvTUQZp6A5C3Nuf1mHCpvPRBdA/s320/IMG_20230421_165340736.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
Cada dia é mais um dia,</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">Desses
dias, muitos recomeços</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">No
presente, volta e meia</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">No
meio da estrada</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">Me
pergunto sobre os caminhos que escolhi</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">Sobre
as trilhas que percorri sem muita certeza</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><br />
</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">Gosto
de estar aqui</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">Sinto
mudanças em mim</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">Quero
pintar todas as paredes riscadas
</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">Com
fragmentos de poesia</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">O
passado não muda</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">Mas
sempre é possível começar de novo</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><br />
</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">Já
não vivo no mesmo lugar,</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">Quase
nunca sinto solidão</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">E
tenho o mar por perto</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">Um
jardim que me dá enorme alegria</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">E
umas horas longe do turbilhão dos pensamentos.
</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><br />
</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">Tenho
tempo (preciso desse tempo! Meu, só pra mim!) pra ouvir música
</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">E
escrever essas bobagens sem rima,</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">E
assistir uns filmes</p>
<p align="left" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">E
cantar desafinada…</p>
Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-66741520714272571842023-04-17T18:47:00.003-07:002023-04-17T18:47:31.450-07:00De uma terça-feira qualquer<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdNk1o--ypO-IFsJfrKqIDiujx7-eib5JbU74NgnXiLiWaqvvIBuo8_vFfwHite8HZG-RiWJrTwhXAhjkWXdwDTJlCohkZSGuO0a6sbUtK4nPcQvztRNXlPXJyK9tVT4de_erkaEDrqGLUSnG_xDAHj5OfonRowMnEFXWD40BUczM44pAr7ZZK73w2KQ/s4632/IMG_20230228_064004672.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3474" data-original-width="4632" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdNk1o--ypO-IFsJfrKqIDiujx7-eib5JbU74NgnXiLiWaqvvIBuo8_vFfwHite8HZG-RiWJrTwhXAhjkWXdwDTJlCohkZSGuO0a6sbUtK4nPcQvztRNXlPXJyK9tVT4de_erkaEDrqGLUSnG_xDAHj5OfonRowMnEFXWD40BUczM44pAr7ZZK73w2KQ/s320/IMG_20230228_064004672.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Pequenas alegrias do cotidiano</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Nos movem, embalam</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Os sorrisos des
estudantes</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Me fazem rir também</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Não, nada é muito
grandioso pra mim no tempo presente</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Mas a simplicidade
traz sentido pra vida</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Voltar a subir
escadas com facilidade</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Depois do joelho
machucado por uns meses</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Voltar a plantar</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Cuidar do jardim</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">A leveza das
amizades</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Que traz tanta
plenitude
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Pra minha casmurrice
de historiadora</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Sim, o mundo das
pessoas é caótico e complicado</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Mas viver é bom</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Há beleza também.</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Sempre há
possibilidade de deixar de lado o atropelo,</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">A aceleração.</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">E sim, precisamos de
mudanças rápidas</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Mas a cultura é
lenta, está arraigada em nós.</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Então, boa parte do
caminho,</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">É também
paciência.
</p>
<p></p>Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-80077062053157793682023-04-15T16:41:00.000-07:002023-04-15T16:41:23.405-07:00Tempo presente<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieLb_5nmrQIgH1O8lRy-MOJslIaDdmiBGaqWebWMzS4PtuE3p0zYqOHoypq_aITZdbgu7vWPNH-Nc8PS2Jbuf-RJEdY-0FAsEGk66FD1bzvl_EB1uWXUcWVxpJ0KqE-6X2X95EEgmvOmtvsQ8USGVfHTuPA1eMyc8JjuwhmXiAm4AqQEr3QtEmKC02RA/s4632/IMG_20230415_203645922.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3474" data-original-width="4632" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieLb_5nmrQIgH1O8lRy-MOJslIaDdmiBGaqWebWMzS4PtuE3p0zYqOHoypq_aITZdbgu7vWPNH-Nc8PS2Jbuf-RJEdY-0FAsEGk66FD1bzvl_EB1uWXUcWVxpJ0KqE-6X2X95EEgmvOmtvsQ8USGVfHTuPA1eMyc8JjuwhmXiAm4AqQEr3QtEmKC02RA/s320/IMG_20230415_203645922.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Tempos vividos em passos lentos,</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: start;">Ontem o pampa, hoje o mar</p><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: start;">O campo, o mato, a areia da praia</p><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: start;"><br /></p><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: start;">Desde quando teve início o atropelo?</p><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: start;">Sento pra respirar,</p><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: start;">Respiro pra sentir a vida.</p><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: start;"><br /></p><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: start;">Minhas lágrimas já não são desespero,</p><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: start;">São desabafo, suspiro</p><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: start;">Inspiro profundamente</p><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: start;"><br /></p><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: start;">Tempos que se movem de forma inconstante</p><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: start;">E quando a consciência retorna</p><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: start;">Por onde terei andado?</p><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: start;"><br /></p><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: start;">O tempo flui por todos os caminhos onde andei</p><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: start;">Hoje caminho devagar,</p><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: start;">Não há pressa.</p><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: start;"><br /></p><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: start;">Existo nesse presente</p><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: start;">Que consistente</p><p style="line-height: 1px; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: start;">Reúne todos os vestígios de mim.</p></div><p><br /></p>Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-20852828318989874122023-04-05T18:43:00.000-07:002023-04-05T18:43:01.439-07:00Pampa<p> <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYf3PIBP2ewf9QfdxE_MKElH7NXdzjK2w1BmTiPYgSDICA_Ohm7FQhh4YnQDAWBmN-pEFEEAH-8VPafZzt6V3KtufMHSSv1QCoHZHMR0Hwa0TEXtlFrikf-fn1IrEsXrTQNaz4TQNVZddKtmEeg0x0IO5IgiCj9WZPYjHZME_qSqgv3V4rQsDUfN6hYw/s2592/NO%C3%8AMIA%20E%20vALNIR%20025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1944" data-original-width="2592" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYf3PIBP2ewf9QfdxE_MKElH7NXdzjK2w1BmTiPYgSDICA_Ohm7FQhh4YnQDAWBmN-pEFEEAH-8VPafZzt6V3KtufMHSSv1QCoHZHMR0Hwa0TEXtlFrikf-fn1IrEsXrTQNaz4TQNVZddKtmEeg0x0IO5IgiCj9WZPYjHZME_qSqgv3V4rQsDUfN6hYw/s320/NO%C3%8AMIA%20E%20vALNIR%20025.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p> </p><div style="text-align: left;">Longas distâncias percorridas</div><div style="text-align: left;">Tempo lento dos passos atentos</div><div style="text-align: left;">Campos da Serra dos Tapes</div><div style="text-align: left;">Saudades da infância</div><div style="text-align: left;">Do pôr do sol em silêncio</div><div style="text-align: left;">Dum mundo pleno de alegria e sentido<br /></div>Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-53739410029686391082023-03-29T16:59:00.003-07:002023-03-29T16:59:22.773-07:00Enquanto a dor não passa.<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihIBg-6ODSgVn7ISIdzqf4qk7KFHTplvap-qVxZfjmyGpOkxOOLVVgg2mvSZQzYr9sPZ1egTskekBuz9QOuTecQm6jgsmBKloLO7pCK73G7XEwjd92kE8LR7HbEyy2DKUY7W1UfJ5ywaCmb_M0drzf7u8-fNWWrBhb4rJYsbbQVk5wjAMUgAZ839z4nw/s3787/IMG_20230301_204654413.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3787" data-original-width="2760" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihIBg-6ODSgVn7ISIdzqf4qk7KFHTplvap-qVxZfjmyGpOkxOOLVVgg2mvSZQzYr9sPZ1egTskekBuz9QOuTecQm6jgsmBKloLO7pCK73G7XEwjd92kE8LR7HbEyy2DKUY7W1UfJ5ywaCmb_M0drzf7u8-fNWWrBhb4rJYsbbQVk5wjAMUgAZ839z4nw/s320/IMG_20230301_204654413.jpg" width="233" /></a></div><p></p><div style="text-align: left;">Depois da dor vem o silêncio</div><div style="text-align: left;">A sensação de acordar</div><div style="text-align: left;">E não ter muito paladar</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Depois da dor vem o sentimento</div><div style="text-align: left;">De termos escapado de mais dor</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Tudo passa e o sorriso volta</div><div style="text-align: left;">Se a integridade está presente</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">E quando a dor volta?</div><div style="text-align: left;">E enquanto a dor não passa...</div><div style="text-align: left;">Vou desenhando</div><div style="text-align: left;">Rabiscando a vida</div><div style="text-align: left;">Colocando no papel </div><div style="text-align: left;">Um pouco das chamas do coração.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Verão/2023.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Depois que fui me dar conta: o desenho é inspirado em 'last time i saw Richard' da maravilhosa Joni Mitchell. <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-66033190764876084542023-03-08T14:41:00.004-08:002023-03-08T14:41:32.714-08:00Quero a beleza e a força das mulheres velhas.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBLSxPWWBGjGFax92xix4n-AxPwkEdOhZfqXGLEUF1w1J306D6JBIZIGg9PNKFs_aecF29hT346IYQCB7_4xo4LmJ2ALJwvBxFWr7vON0ZKKkYTlIovJdmXFwdAt0prTCmoIEN6diqf-zF99e3dqxWzHsG2_QLtm4HbUl9BSd7Hku3oJyNc9gKl7wY-g/s2368/IMG_20200925_171952994.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1332" data-original-width="2368" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBLSxPWWBGjGFax92xix4n-AxPwkEdOhZfqXGLEUF1w1J306D6JBIZIGg9PNKFs_aecF29hT346IYQCB7_4xo4LmJ2ALJwvBxFWr7vON0ZKKkYTlIovJdmXFwdAt0prTCmoIEN6diqf-zF99e3dqxWzHsG2_QLtm4HbUl9BSd7Hku3oJyNc9gKl7wY-g/s320/IMG_20200925_171952994.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u" dir="auto">Quero poemas novos<br />Que cantem o amor ao humano <br />Em sua plenitude<br /><br />O amor nos olhos serenos das mulheres velhas.<br />Quero enamorar-me das mulheres velhas.<br /><br />Dessas que carregam o peso dos anos vividos <br />Em uma sociedade machista,<br />E ainda assim, trazem um olhar suave.<br /><br />Quero a força e a coragem das mulheres velhas,<br />Das trabalhadoras, mulheres guerreiras.<br />Como minha vizinha recicladora,<br />Que sempre diz bom dia com um sorriso largo,<br />Mesmo empurrando ela mesma o carrinho em que cata os lixos das gentes que consomem e se esquecem das gentes. <br /><br /> Escrito em 18 de junho de 2018.</span><p></p>Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-66662246631831719162023-02-18T17:11:00.000-08:002023-02-18T17:11:04.201-08:00Calma<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCT2g_OMjvHCzLEuL28bXOuRYhlqp897yPq00iR38aUjuk7umd2eNMedxynmTT314niwnwZcjlRKHA03x76v3eLsJRNekBMOfsUJiMd6xW5O_qWJSZfIz85rlLxShemdvOCfgjxwt3tNWhxospxIVV5C8xALkTtKkH1ku0Jy4RcIQaoXRuEa3UZjP_xQ/s4632/IMG_20230218_134715633.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4632" data-original-width="3474" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCT2g_OMjvHCzLEuL28bXOuRYhlqp897yPq00iR38aUjuk7umd2eNMedxynmTT314niwnwZcjlRKHA03x76v3eLsJRNekBMOfsUJiMd6xW5O_qWJSZfIz85rlLxShemdvOCfgjxwt3tNWhxospxIVV5C8xALkTtKkH1ku0Jy4RcIQaoXRuEa3UZjP_xQ/s320/IMG_20230218_134715633.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><div style="text-align: left;"> O que me acalma?</div><div style="text-align: left;">"Me acolhe a alma"?</div><div style="text-align: left;">Tudo é tão fluído nesse mundo moderno!</div><div style="text-align: left;">Queria alguma certeza,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Algo sólido.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Sei que esse 'algo sólido' sou eu,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Mas sinto solidão às vezes.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Ah o amor, o amor verdadeiro!</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Posso escrever páginas e páginas </div><div style="text-align: left;">De palavras soltas.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Não! Não são palavras soltas,</div><div style="text-align: left;">São sempre expressão de mim.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Tanta tempo passou,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Sempre o tempo.</div><div style="text-align: left;">O barulho da garrafa térmica mal fechada </div><div style="text-align: left;">Parece o dos ponteiros do relógio.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Mas o que dizer?</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Faz frio nesse agosto,</div><div style="text-align: left;">E escrevo desperdiçando papel e caneta.</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Será que um dia teria estômago para reler 'a náusea' do Sartre?</div><div style="text-align: left;">Acho que não.</div><div style="text-align: left;">Isso me acalma.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">2022.<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><p> </p>Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-54011552804471905322023-02-18T16:43:00.000-08:002023-02-18T16:43:50.123-08:00Dói<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLkV7UOsoc4Zm4bSEcCY0WaM71ytctcspo5jiXiX5taG5Jp9_dEiHuPCvnvAi63dfQR6Q1x1W3UdfNVRznvpUtCzu8z8UURpu9qpsSJgvji2NRGZxCWqAGjXqNYtrzIOjbyl4unOxM-nIDwMvrwjubep0Exe4iEYjivgBQ4Ha-7teZB5ufyBpU1CzQNw/s4632/IMG_20230218_134635499.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3474" data-original-width="4632" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLkV7UOsoc4Zm4bSEcCY0WaM71ytctcspo5jiXiX5taG5Jp9_dEiHuPCvnvAi63dfQR6Q1x1W3UdfNVRznvpUtCzu8z8UURpu9qpsSJgvji2NRGZxCWqAGjXqNYtrzIOjbyl4unOxM-nIDwMvrwjubep0Exe4iEYjivgBQ4Ha-7teZB5ufyBpU1CzQNw/s320/IMG_20230218_134635499.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><div style="text-align: left;">Criar expectativas</div><div style="text-align: left;">Reviver o passado</div><div style="text-align: left;">Ouvir 'eu te amo' da boca pra fora</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Saber que o outro não se importa</div><div style="text-align: left;">Sobre como nos sentimos</div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">Estou cansada da guerra</div><div style="text-align: left;">A vida não é um jogo de xadrez <br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-6288846510723506092023-02-16T16:57:00.002-08:002023-02-16T17:02:37.054-08:00Sementes<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9cNOgnQfblN8P_Fzarz9wJU26JneIgXngPA0DogdD5KVF5x3Iwk3wvNsmTkUAAfG1hHAMhuPfZvzHM0VHb4tGZBHOrrbt6hnPDjK9vcmIoEBeihAKPdaqZDNJsE3ReVDbXI8nyq6-yNYsuSaf6ubHjiuBo26b6LpMmIDeNxN2ZVarpGMVNyBUHPbaTQ/s4632/IMG_20221105_170022930.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3474" data-original-width="4632" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9cNOgnQfblN8P_Fzarz9wJU26JneIgXngPA0DogdD5KVF5x3Iwk3wvNsmTkUAAfG1hHAMhuPfZvzHM0VHb4tGZBHOrrbt6hnPDjK9vcmIoEBeihAKPdaqZDNJsE3ReVDbXI8nyq6-yNYsuSaf6ubHjiuBo26b6LpMmIDeNxN2ZVarpGMVNyBUHPbaTQ/s320/IMG_20221105_170022930.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Somos semente</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Da vida que brota</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Permanente</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Nossos frutos são diversos</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Podem estar nas palavras</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Nos traços em um papel</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Numa fórmula ou laço</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Caminho descoberto</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Somos raiz que se propaga</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Só esquece quem quer</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">E perde o vínculo com a terra</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Somos mais que esses seres fúteis das cidades aceleradas</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Nossos galhos suportam dores passadas e presentes</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">E também serão fortes o suficientes pra suportar as dores que virão</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Nossas folhas trazem novo alento</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">E nos abrem o peito</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Pra seguir em frente, voltar a ser gente com os pés no chão.</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Fotografia de 05/11/2022. Poema escrito em 16/02/2023, inspirada pelo Círculo de Mulheres La Loba/ Rio Vermelho, especialmente pela Érica.</div><p> </p>Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-91783625273654412702023-02-15T05:47:00.002-08:002023-02-15T05:53:40.078-08:00Odoiá la mar<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLQ-aXkATLzKTfIpvXBJgLLhVdLXrJPJ8CxV1EwjH4yc8UoQwwOhVL6Du4bBg2VvtG30MbS5UabHwHYvOL2Zhu4EkewM-rCmUtoxa8sWKbyQIunn3g7QKnEcxF0wj6xjwnohRBmMk2Gd0sUZb0SELzOI1JgRQRbjxUlAvjZGux9ATmktQKWuln1geIbA/s1000/c16.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="667" data-original-width="1000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLQ-aXkATLzKTfIpvXBJgLLhVdLXrJPJ8CxV1EwjH4yc8UoQwwOhVL6Du4bBg2VvtG30MbS5UabHwHYvOL2Zhu4EkewM-rCmUtoxa8sWKbyQIunn3g7QKnEcxF0wj6xjwnohRBmMk2Gd0sUZb0SELzOI1JgRQRbjxUlAvjZGux9ATmktQKWuln1geIbA/s320/c16.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;">Toda nostalgia se cura con la mar.<br /></span><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;">Su inmensidad hace plenos los corazones.<br /></span><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;">Todas las mareas, </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;">Calmas, fuertes, </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;">Tienen su razón de ser.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;">Talvez por eso, sea difícil compreender a las hijas de Yemanjá.<br /></span><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;">Son maternales, cuidadosas, <br /></span><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;">Pero cuando se les amenaza sus olas se vuelven ferozes y arrasadoras.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;">La mar, maravilla de muchos colores, </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;">Cuna de la vida, nuestro origen.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;">Cuando vayas a la playa,<br /></span><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;">no te olvides que la mar no es solamente costa.<br /></span><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;">La mar es profundidad también.<br /></span><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;">La mar és Yemanjá, madre de los Orixás,<br /></span><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;">Nuestra madre ancestral.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;">Fotografia de Cassiana Reis em 02/02/2021. Poema escrito em 04/02/2023, inspirada pela cerimônia da Tenda Espirita Caminho dos Orixás. Correção do espanhol de Maia Silva.</span></div>Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1378815533542223038.post-24129270340041509702023-01-17T17:39:00.003-08:002023-01-17T17:50:46.358-08:00Só<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRHfz5axBsnjjmAKSe02M00uVANidAQyfqul2plBLj1uiBpad8_WnYnCMA5akobClE4I7086oHVHIE0aZ1EnlhTev1AKO5vU9JyLdrepv6FSL3UQ3HEsNBMO5l0EFf2sx5zJ68dLjOTHWnlXVamNn5PFuh72fedfYwVyZbQVcxTwcdtlVC1YHEl6pnbw/s4632/IMG_20221226_161126275.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4632" data-original-width="3474" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRHfz5axBsnjjmAKSe02M00uVANidAQyfqul2plBLj1uiBpad8_WnYnCMA5akobClE4I7086oHVHIE0aZ1EnlhTev1AKO5vU9JyLdrepv6FSL3UQ3HEsNBMO5l0EFf2sx5zJ68dLjOTHWnlXVamNn5PFuh72fedfYwVyZbQVcxTwcdtlVC1YHEl6pnbw/s320/IMG_20221226_161126275.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p dir="ltr" id="docs-internal-guid-86d1592e-7fff-732f-08bc-fa35ec8139a7" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Tanta solidão </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Tanto descompasso</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">E será que agora é solitude que me chega,</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Por fim a solitude?</span></span></p><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Recolho fragmentos de mim</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Com os cacos de memória que junto pelos cantos</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">E ainda canto,</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Mesmo com tristeza,</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Ainda canto.</span></span></p><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Ainda é verão</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">E busco me encontrar</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Depois de tantos anos peregrina,</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Deitar raiz.</span></span></p><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Só, mas com paz e vida</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Vou esperar a manhã chegar</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Para que o sol traga algo novo</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Com o dia que vai raiar.</span></span></p><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Só, e vou fazer comida</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Para alimentar o corpo,</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Que a alma,</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Ainda dolorida,</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Teima em animar.</span></span></p><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">A noite já se vai adentro,</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">E ainda estou acordada,</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Pensando em que pensar. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Escrito em 25 de fevereiro de 2018. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Fotografia no meu jardim em dezembro de 2022.</span></span></p>Cláudia Tomaschewskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14759142204823407800noreply@blogger.com