PEDRAS


                                                          pedras
                                                          são como preces

                                                          pedras
                                                          são como passos

                                                         pedras
                                                         são tão pretas

                                                        assim
                                                        como todas as letras

                                                        pedras
                                                        são moinhos

                                                       assim
                                                       como todas as linhas
                                                       e caminhos.

                                                                                  Cgurgel

PAULA TESSER & VALDO ADERALDO -  " Guardador do Mar "

                                                                   SEM PALAVRA


                                                                insensato
                                                                fico mudo

                                                                calado
                                                                aqui estou

                                                                e sem falar
                                                                passo a vida.

                                                                                           Cgurgel
                                  


                                                              

                                                                   LEMBRANÇA


                                                           amanhã
                                                           a rua onde passei bons momentos
                                                           será como uma lavoura
                                                           onde saciarei o vento
                                                           que leva pelos ares
                                                           todos os segredos do mundo

                                                           e assim
                                                           dormirei
                                                           por sobre a sombra do coqueiro
                                                           que me viu partir.

                                                                                                    Cgurgel
                                                             

                                                                                     SECRET



                                                                     quero
                                                                     que o que escrevo
                                                                     entendas:

                                                                     a mim
                                                                     pulsas
                                                                     como já conhecida
                                                                   
                                                                     e o que escreves
                                                                     é como
                                                                     o que a mim,
                                                                     compreendas.

                                                                                                   Cgurgel

                                                                       LAMPO

                                                  rude
                                                 e cósmico
                                                 são todos os portos

                                                 como
                                                 o furto
                                                 de abraços
                                                 e abrigos.

                                                                                Cgurgel

                                                             O ÚLTIMO TREM

                                                             o último trem
                                                             já não me quer

                                                             sou
                                                             um fóssil de vermes

                                                             e a luz
                                                             que a cada dia
                                                             renasce

                                                             me faz sonhar
                                                             com a dor
                                                             e o sofrimento
                                                             de um porão que sangra.

                                                                                         Cgurgel