tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49741412726471400172012-02-16T04:06:26.110-08:00Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17807388777925850242noreply@blogger.comBlogger151100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4974141272647140017.post-21244899784742166222010-03-13T13:25:00.001-08:002010-03-13T13:33:54.883-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/S5wDOFKPQ8I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/hTCAbc_kWkA/s1600-h/nicoletta+ceccoli.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 205px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/S5wDOFKPQ8I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/hTCAbc_kWkA/s320/nicoletta+ceccoli.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448233189649630146" /></a><span style="font-style:italic;">Nicolleta Ceccoli</span><br /><br />Vuelo…<br /><br />Vuelo,<br />me persigue el trueno <br />costado intermitente,<br />vastedad de inclemencias<br /><br />soy gota<br />de ese pétalo<br />lágrima<br />cuajando las paredes<br /><br />vuelo,<br />mariposa en un muro<br /><br />¿donde está mi flor?<br />¿donde mis hojas verdes?<br />¿dónde el sol?<br /><br />vuelo…<br />vuelo…<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4974141272647140017-2124489978474216622?l=poemasymariposas.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17807388777925850242noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4974141272647140017.post-57032258494909368852009-12-17T11:56:00.000-08:002009-12-17T20:31:44.820-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/SyqNOLCKqBI/AAAAAAAAAEI/NBJrag6qytU/s1600-h/sorciere_noire.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 233px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/SyqNOLCKqBI/AAAAAAAAAEI/NBJrag6qytU/s320/sorciere_noire.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416296776486004754" /></a><span style="font-style:italic;">Anne Julie</span><br /><br />Buscarme<br /><br />Tocar el espejo<br />Ser yo,<br />Del otro lado ¿quien mira?<br />No estar<br />Salir un rato por el ojo <br />Romper el silencio que me muerde<br />Embestir el zócalo de mi rostro,<br /><br />Después<br />Tal vez<br />Reconocerme.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4974141272647140017-5703225849490936885?l=poemasymariposas.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17807388777925850242noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4974141272647140017.post-89483505783329991252009-11-11T18:28:00.001-08:002009-12-17T12:01:10.329-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/SvtzBJbXraI/AAAAAAAAADw/DJRhtt6DQsQ/s1600-h/anne.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/SvtzBJbXraI/AAAAAAAAADw/DJRhtt6DQsQ/s320/anne.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403038641508822434" /></a><span style="font-style:italic;">Anne Julie</span><br /><br />Reconocimiento<br /><br />Un fluir líquido y liviano<br />como desasida <br />debajo de mis alas<br />se tejen las cadenas <br /><br />hay viento<br /><br />subiré a ese árbol,,,<br />miraré el poniente<br /><br />tejeré las palabras con agujas de alambre<br />bordaré tus iniciales <br />y me echaré a volar… <br /><br />tal vez, <br />solo tal vez, <br /><br />me detenga en tu boca.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4974141272647140017-8948350578332999125?l=poemasymariposas.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17807388777925850242noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4974141272647140017.post-24007187761631913012009-10-20T11:20:00.001-07:002009-10-20T11:23:51.810-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/St3_owGf71I/AAAAAAAAADg/vjMuqSm_ogU/s1600-h/nicolas+minacapilliA.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/St3_owGf71I/AAAAAAAAADg/vjMuqSm_ogU/s320/nicolas+minacapilliA.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394749004231733074" /></a><span style="font-style:italic;">Nicolas Minacapilli</span><br /><br />Lejano<br /><br />Eres, <br />el horizonte de mis pasos<br />río que la corriente arrastra<br />hacia otra orilla,<br /><br />allá lejos <br />dormido en esa ausencia<br /><br />como un mancha en la hoja <br />de tinta escarlata<br /><br />te desparramas,<br />dueles,<br /><br />y allí te quedas.<br /><br />Lejano siempre <br /><br />de mis pasos y de mi vida.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4974141272647140017-2400718776163191301?l=poemasymariposas.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17807388777925850242noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4974141272647140017.post-49773129097024005662009-10-08T06:43:00.000-07:002009-10-08T06:55:02.533-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/Ss3u-3jzIcI/AAAAAAAAADY/sjt0o9ZSytU/s1600-h/sinpix.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 210px; height: 290px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/Ss3u-3jzIcI/AAAAAAAAADY/sjt0o9ZSytU/s320/sinpix.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390227092865753538" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Laura Wachter</span><br /><br />Cualquier tarde <br /><br />contrario al suspiro<br />una chispa en el viento<br />el amor encadenado a un árbol,<br /><br />ausencia de rostros<br />en los espejos del alma<br /><br />fantoches mal heridos<br />que vagan con pasos de serpientes,<br /><br />ya el otoño<br />se cayó del viento<br /><br />ardor de labios<br /><br />tarde que grita en mi costado<br />postal de tiempo triste<br /><br />que muere.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4974141272647140017-4977312909702400566?l=poemasymariposas.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17807388777925850242noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4974141272647140017.post-66212612513503668082009-09-19T09:47:00.001-07:002009-09-19T09:59:23.812-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/SrUN3w7oSvI/AAAAAAAAADI/NeO8Fam4TeU/s1600-h/ausencia.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 257px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/SrUN3w7oSvI/AAAAAAAAADI/NeO8Fam4TeU/s320/ausencia.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383224181270268658" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Soledad de ausencia y lluvia<br /><br />Sabrá la lluvia <br />Que cabe en una palabra?<br /><br />Que no moja,<br />Que no salpica,<br />Que no humedece.<br /><br />Sin embargo <br />La suelto en tu ausencia<br />Y se transforma en lágrimas.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4974141272647140017-6621261251350366808?l=poemasymariposas.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17807388777925850242noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4974141272647140017.post-88130323109365049742009-09-11T18:47:00.000-07:002009-09-11T18:49:38.158-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/Sqr9uTgyAWI/AAAAAAAAACw/jt-RH7cL2TQ/s1600-h/dominguez.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 232px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/Sqr9uTgyAWI/AAAAAAAAACw/jt-RH7cL2TQ/s320/dominguez.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380391676801057122" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Oscar Dominguez</span><br /><br />Mis sueños<br />Mis despertares<br /><br />Los puñales de la noche<br />La prisa en el umbral del sol<br /><br />Todo es<br /><br />Existe<br /><br />En la orilla de tu pulso.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4974141272647140017-8813032310936504974?l=poemasymariposas.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17807388777925850242noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4974141272647140017.post-34890753743802610442009-09-05T16:12:00.000-07:002009-09-05T16:26:14.776-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/SqLxJf8r_xI/AAAAAAAAACo/t4itebUwdug/s1600-h/(L)Laura+Wachter.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/SqLxJf8r_xI/AAAAAAAAACo/t4itebUwdug/s320/(L)Laura+Wachter.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378126050530950930" /></a> <span style="font-style:italic;">Laura Wachter</span><br /><br /><br />Te soñé azul y con los ojos de zafiros<br />ventisca y fuego<br />arena y viento,<br /><br />torbellino de lágrimas<br />duele en los párpados,<br /><br />despierta<br />se humedece el corazón <br /><br />ausencia y sombra.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4974141272647140017-3489075374380261044?l=poemasymariposas.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17807388777925850242noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4974141272647140017.post-40881293736643875142009-08-26T17:06:00.000-07:002009-08-26T17:10:10.344-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/SpXONtO4xXI/AAAAAAAAACg/o3A_Cz72tds/s1600-h/Campaabloga.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 235px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/SpXONtO4xXI/AAAAAAAAACg/o3A_Cz72tds/s320/Campaabloga.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374428465212212594" /></a><br /><br /><br />Versos infantiles<br /><br /><br />Y si fueran de girasoles <br />los soles?<br />Y si fueran de caramelos<br />los cielos?<br />Y si fueran de nomeolvides<br />los relojes?<br />Y si fueran de abrazarnos <br />las guerras?<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4974141272647140017-4088129373664387514?l=poemasymariposas.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17807388777925850242noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4974141272647140017.post-49757030000266147032009-08-18T12:00:00.000-07:002009-08-18T12:14:09.928-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/Sor9dsvDahI/AAAAAAAAACY/7ytatnyfufU/s1600-h/tristeza+y+soledad.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 281px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/Sor9dsvDahI/AAAAAAAAACY/7ytatnyfufU/s320/tristeza+y+soledad.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371384192259287570" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Brotar,<br />desafiando<br />los huesos <br />tierra<br /><br />enjambre<br />anhelos<br />dolor<br />risa<br /><br />raíces<br />solo eso<br /><br />me brotaré<br />desde<br />los ojos.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4974141272647140017-4975703000026614703?l=poemasymariposas.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17807388777925850242noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4974141272647140017.post-32315955003973189122009-08-11T15:38:00.000-07:002009-08-11T15:43:46.060-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/SoH0FIv32OI/AAAAAAAAAB4/fmCzWAPqc9c/s1600-h/caminando.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 263px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/SoH0FIv32OI/AAAAAAAAAB4/fmCzWAPqc9c/s320/caminando.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368840599887141090" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Ella <br />levantaba castillos de arena<br />con la mirada encendida<br />y en la boca<br />un sabor a beso y labio tibio,<br /><br />sus manos amasaban los vientos<br />para dejar los silencios <br />amontonados<br /><br />la ausencia <br />quedaba en las ventanas <br />hilvanando las cortinas de papel<br /><br />una ola sembró el pánico<br /><br />arañazos de agua quedaron flotando<br />en el umbral <br />de la nada.<br /></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4974141272647140017-3231595500397318912?l=poemasymariposas.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17807388777925850242noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4974141272647140017.post-69569273496446032952009-08-05T10:52:00.000-07:002009-08-05T10:58:46.487-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/SnnIJfDB7nI/AAAAAAAAABo/DfnPsQn6Noc/s1600-h/lluvia+y+paraguas+negro.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 236px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/SnnIJfDB7nI/AAAAAAAAABo/DfnPsQn6Noc/s320/lluvia+y+paraguas+negro.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366540496267243122" /></a><br /><br /><br />Lluvia<br /><br /><br />Me disuelvo en el agua <br />y soy agua<br />transparente,<br />calando el rostro de un ciudad desnuda,<br /><br />frías las manos del viento<br />pretenden una caricia <br />de paso,<br />al descuido,<br />para dejarme <br />mojada y sola,<br />lágrima, lágrima<br /><br />en mi abrazo<br />duele la tibieza ya perdida.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4974141272647140017-6956927349644603295?l=poemasymariposas.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17807388777925850242noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4974141272647140017.post-30131732822957203562009-07-30T12:30:00.000-07:002009-07-30T12:37:27.359-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/SnH2E3UfFGI/AAAAAAAAABg/R-UzJS6kdeg/s1600-h/payasobajolalluvia.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/SnH2E3UfFGI/AAAAAAAAABg/R-UzJS6kdeg/s320/payasobajolalluvia.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364339194604754018" /></a><br /><br />El mundo (reflexión)<br /><br />El mundo<br />con sus insignificantes<br />habitantes<br />(piedra, planta, animal, humano)<br /><br />me repito…<br />el mundo,<br /><br />busca salir<br />desde su lugar <br />hacia otro<br /><br />como si una hormiga<br />buscara salir<br />de su hormiguero<br />destruyendo<br />la especie.<br /><br />Somos indudablemente<br />seres inteligentes.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4974141272647140017-3013173282295720356?l=poemasymariposas.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17807388777925850242noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4974141272647140017.post-90407965197365965332009-07-26T11:19:00.000-07:002009-07-26T12:04:29.293-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/Smyed5w-pMI/AAAAAAAAABY/7tKTa7Jp-zM/s1600-h/751pxPaul_Cezanne__Pyramid_of_Skulls.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/Smyed5w-pMI/AAAAAAAAABY/7tKTa7Jp-zM/s320/751pxPaul_Cezanne__Pyramid_of_Skulls.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362835492851066050" /></a>Paul Cezanne<br /><br /><br />Soñaba…<br /><br />Soñé que la muerte<br />era una señora sin huesos<br />doblada, <br />caminaba para abajo<br />como un gusano,<br />en sus manos llevaba semillas de cenizas<br />que plantaba en los huecos tibios de la tierra<br /><br />tenía el corazón perforado<br />los cabellos eran de alambre de púas<br /><br />me dio una lástima la señora muerte<br />que le tendí la mano y le dije<br /><br />-no se arrastre… que le deben doler las piedras-<br /><br />ella con la mirada fría me contestó<br /><br />-no me arrastro<br />estoy sembrando vidas para mañana-<br /><br />© 2009 Ingrid<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4974141272647140017-9040796519736596533?l=poemasymariposas.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17807388777925850242noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4974141272647140017.post-71138521755622268592009-07-23T10:54:00.001-07:002009-07-23T10:55:50.834-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/Smij8uFZSJI/AAAAAAAAAAc/0-PqBQkVeCM/s1600-h/lluviaconparaguas.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 263px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p1vMv8xFC2o/Smij8uFZSJI/AAAAAAAAAAc/0-PqBQkVeCM/s320/lluviaconparaguas.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361715619942713490" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Noche<br /><br />noche<br />que se abrió <br />entre las rejas <br />de una identidad<br />que no es la mía;<br /><br />soy...<br />la que bucea entre letras <br />y sueños.<span style="font-weight:bold;"></span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4974141272647140017-7113852175562226859?l=poemasymariposas.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ingridhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17807388777925850242noreply@blogger.com4