recoge({"version":"1.0","encoding":"UTF-8","feed":{"xmlns":"http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom","xmlns$openSearch":"http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/","xmlns$georss":"http://www.georss.org/georss","id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243"},"updated":{"$t":"2009-10-13T21:37:04.973+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"POEMAS DE OTRO SIGLO"},"subtitle":{"type":"html","$t":"es básicamente una selección de poemas escritos por el autor entre enero de 1996 y diciembre de 2000."},"link":[{"rel":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default?alt\u003djson-in-script\u0026max-results\u003d100"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/"},{"rel":"hub","href":"http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"}}],"generator":{"version":"7.00","uri":"http://www.blogger.com","$t":"Blogger"},"openSearch$totalResults":{"$t":"78"},"openSearch$startIndex":{"$t":"1"},"openSearch$itemsPerPage":{"$t":"100"},"entry":[{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112017582264403892"},"published":{"$t":"2005-08-28T22:49:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-21T02:56:38.093+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"PREÁMBULO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"\u003cspan style\u003d\"font-weight: bold;\"\u003eInspiración...\u003c/span\u003e «intuyo que dentro de un tiempo\u003cbr /\u003evolverá como ha vuelto otras veces, regresará de\u003cbr /\u003esu enésimo viaje a ninguna parte... y será entonces,\u003cbr /\u003esólo entonces... que una princesa, mil ideas, dos mil\u003cbr /\u003ecaminos, cien batallas inundarán mi cabeza... y esta\u003cbr /\u003efábrica de sueños retomará su camino... y  aunque\u003cbr /\u003etú  no  lo  creas, princesa mimosa,  prometo  para\u003cbr /\u003eentonces volver y rehacer estas líneas.»\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112017582264403892?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' 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vacío,\u003cbr /\u003egélido en totalidad,\u003cbr /\u003esin brío y aunque es estío\u003cbr /\u003ehelado de soledad.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112015866394975909?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112015866394975909/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112015866394975909\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"2 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112015866394975909"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112015866394975909"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/08/sin-ti.html","title":"SIN TI"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"2"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050679628476915"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:52:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:28:58.586+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"ANHELO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Un anhelo tu alegría,\u003cbr /\u003etu sonrisa, tu presencia,\u003cbr /\u003ey tu sutil compañía\u003cbr /\u003ede trastocada inocencia.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050679628476915?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050679628476915/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050679628476915\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"1 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aliento\u003cbr /\u003erecuerda como ha vivido,\u003cbr /\u003ey a Dios da gracias contento\u003cbr /\u003epor haberlo permitido.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eSe va despacio asaz lento,\u003cbr /\u003ey en cada paso perdido,\u003cbr /\u003earrastra versos que el viento\u003cbr /\u003ey  sólo el viento ha entendido.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eLa brisa sopla un lamento,\u003cbr /\u003eel poeta se ha dormido,\u003cbr /\u003epara Dios sólo un momento,\u003cbr /\u003epara el hombre en el olvido.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050676506523404?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050676506523404/comments/default","title":"Enviar 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POETA"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050673777913758"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:51:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:24:46.513+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"OCHO VERSOS Y UN TABLERO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Sin límite en su exterior\u003cbr /\u003eajedrez y poesía,\u003cbr /\u003eporque ambos de fantasía\u003cbr /\u003ese nutren en su interior.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e¿Y no ves el parecido?\u003cbr /\u003epoesía es ajedrez,\u003cbr /\u003ey ajedrez es a su vez\u003cbr /\u003epoesía sin sonido.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050673777913758?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050673777913758/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050673777913758\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"2 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TÚ"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Émula de las estrellas,\u003cbr /\u003ecrepúsculo del ocaso,\u003cbr /\u003eporque luciendo como ellas\u003cbr /\u003een mi noche te abres paso,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ee irradias con tu calor\u003cbr /\u003eofuscando mi razón,\u003cbr /\u003ediáfano efluvio de amor\u003cbr /\u003eque me alumbra el corazón.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050669218090590?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050669218090590/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050669218090590\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050669218090590"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050669218090590"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/slo-t.html","title":"SÓLO TÚ"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050665668740392"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:50:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:26:01.523+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"CHICA IDEAL"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Lágrimas de sangre amarga\u003cbr /\u003ecaen por mi faz inerte,\u003cbr /\u003eno me libran de esta carga\u003cbr /\u003epero comparten mi suerte.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eDe decirme, una se encarga,\u003cbr /\u003eque nunca he de conocerte,\u003cbr /\u003ey hace mi pena más larga,\u003cbr /\u003ey más pesada esta muerte.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eMientras mi noche se alarga,\u003cbr /\u003enoche sin luna y sin verte,\u003cbr /\u003elágrimas de sangre amarga\u003cbr /\u003econ amargor aún más fuerte.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050665668740392?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050665668740392/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050665668740392\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050665668740392"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050665668740392"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/chica-ideal.html","title":"CHICA IDEAL"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050661860166870"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:49:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:32:27.850+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"A MADRID"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Voy sentado solo y miro el paisaje\u003cbr /\u003etratando de ordenar mi pensamiento,\u003cbr /\u003emas resulta nulo cualquier intento\u003cbr /\u003ede alejarte de él en este viaje.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eNi siquiera la música de fondo\u003cbr /\u003ete consigue apagar en mi interior.\u003cbr /\u003eSigues quemando y causando dolor\u003cbr /\u003eclavada ardiendo en mi mente, muy hondo.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eFalta ya poco para mi destino,\u003cbr /\u003ede nuevo mis ojos te quieren ver,\u003cbr /\u003emientras... el bus prosigue su camino,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ecamino que al menos puede escoger,\u003cbr /\u003epues el tuyo me lo marcó ese sino\u003cbr /\u003eque a tu lado no me deja volver.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050661860166870?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050661860166870/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050661860166870\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"5 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que te vas\u003cbr /\u003euna amarga primavera,\u003cbr /\u003e«no te preocupes saldrás,\u003cbr /\u003eel mundo es de esta manera».\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eAntes de a despedida\u003cbr /\u003econ lágrimas te respondí:\u003cbr /\u003e«sabes que así no es la vida,\u003cbr /\u003etú has hecho que fuera así».\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e¿Dónde están aquellos días,\u003cbr /\u003e(me preguntaba al dormir),\u003cbr /\u003een que en mis brazos reías\u003cbr /\u003ey sin hacerte reír?\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eY tus ojos... ¿dónde están?\u003cbr /\u003eojos negros y tan bellos,\u003cbr /\u003eque miraba con afán\u003cbr /\u003ede perderme un día en ellos.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eDespués de pasarlo mal\u003cbr /\u003ey de dejar la bebida,\u003cbr /\u003eahora que harté de sal\u003cbr /\u003eal salero de mi vida,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eque superé aquel disparo\u003cbr /\u003efrío, cruel y con objeto\u003cbr /\u003eque me diste sin reparo,\u003cbr /\u003ey te olvidé por completo,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eahora, sin mas, regresas.\u003cbr /\u003esi has bajado de tu nube,\u003cbr /\u003ete perdono sin promesas,\u003cbr /\u003enegaré que un día estuve\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003econ el corazón partido,\u003cbr /\u003eperdido sin tu mirada,\u003cbr /\u003ey en tu mirada perdido\u003cbr /\u003eestaré como si nada;\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eregresarán mil abrazos,\u003cbr /\u003edos mil besos, tu sonrisa,\u003cbr /\u003ey obtendrás entre mis brazos\u003cbr /\u003eun amor puro y sin prisa.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050654844238321?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050654844238321/comments/default","title":"Enviar 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MIRADA"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"1"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050646382526763"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:47:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:33:26.973+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"SOLEDAD"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Amarga esta noche amarga\u003cbr /\u003emi agria y larga soledad,\u003cbr /\u003ey la luna que aletarga,\u003cbr /\u003enegra luna en la ciudad,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ey mi estrella entre la nada,\u003cbr /\u003ela nada que tanto dura,\u003cbr /\u003etanto en esta noche oscura,\u003cbr /\u003esin estrellas y estrellada.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eOtra Soledad que viene\u003cbr /\u003ede la mano de la luna,\u003cbr /\u003ede la mano que te acuna\u003cbr /\u003ey en el cielo te entretiene.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eMuerte que yerra y te acierta,\u003cbr /\u003esangre dulce y desatino,\u003cbr /\u003ecomo tú mi estrella muerta\u003cbr /\u003ey en la nada mi destino.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050646382526763?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050646382526763/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050646382526763\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050646382526763"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050646382526763"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/soledad.html","title":"SOLEDAD"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050640958346878"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:46:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:33:50.420+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"QUISIERA..."},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"En la prueba de la vida,\u003cbr /\u003een las rayas de mi mano,\u003cbr /\u003ela carrera está servida,\u003cbr /\u003econocida de antemano.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eQuisiera soñar un día\u003cbr /\u003eno soñar nunca contigo,\u003cbr /\u003edejar la melancolía\u003cbr /\u003eo entregar ya mi testigo.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eAl interpretar esta obra\u003cbr /\u003een diferente escenario,\u003cbr /\u003equisiera tener maniobra\u003cbr /\u003epara cambiar mi diario,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ey buscando mejor suerte\u003cbr /\u003een mis sueños al destino,\u003cbr /\u003een mis sueños o en mi muerte\u003cbr /\u003eme saldré de su camino;\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eporque en este cruel sendero\u003cbr /\u003efácil es no terminar,\u003cbr /\u003ey fácil ser el primero\u003cbr /\u003esi te sales al soñar.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050640958346878?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050640958346878/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050640958346878\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050640958346878"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050640958346878"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/quisiera.html","title":"QUISIERA..."}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050636655323612"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:45:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:34:15.580+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"ME MUERO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Como caminas por mí\u003cbr /\u003eporque por mí es tu sendero,\u003cbr /\u003epor ti camino y sin ti,\u003cbr /\u003esin ti no existo, me muero.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050636655323612?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050636655323612/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050636655323612\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"1 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050636655323612"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050636655323612"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/me-muero.html","title":"ME MUERO"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"1"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050632555344525"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:44:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2006-05-19T02:08:23.283+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"FUTURO INCIERTO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Sólo los grillos a son de baladas\u003cbr /\u003ese enfrentan al silencio con su canto.\u003cbr /\u003eLa noche sin luna oculta, entre tanto,\u003cbr /\u003eaquellas laderas recién segadas.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eInstantes después de oír su motor,\u003cbr /\u003esobre la cañada hace años dormida,\u003cbr /\u003een la oscuridad, puedo ver, perdida,\u003cbr /\u003ela luz intermitente de un tractor.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eHacia Villalmanzo toma el camino\u003cbr /\u003econ el remolque lleno de cebada,\u003cbr /\u003ey atrás deja, sombra de su destino,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ela parcela al acabar la jornada.\u003cbr /\u003eTierras de España, ¿qué será del sino\u003cbr /\u003eque Europa ofrece a mi Castilla amada?\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050632555344525?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050632555344525/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050632555344525\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050632555344525"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050632555344525"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/futuro-incierto.html","title":"FUTURO INCIERTO"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050626510161841"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:43:00.001+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:35:29.833+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"ESPERANDO..."},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"El barro del tortuoso sendero,\u003cbr /\u003ede nuestras firmes huellas, se impregnó,\u003cbr /\u003edurante el poco tiempo que duró\u003cbr /\u003eel atajo que va al abrevadero.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eAsegurándonos que allí estaría\u003cbr /\u003ea su rebaño dando de beber,\u003cbr /\u003enos indicó el camino su mujer,\u003cbr /\u003epero el pastor aún no llegaría.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eCuando la tierra terminó su vuelta,\u003cbr /\u003eentonces el ladrido de los perros\u003cbr /\u003eacercando alguna oveja suelta\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ey el continuo latir de los cencerros,\u003cbr /\u003edelatan su vaga presencia envuelta\u003cbr /\u003ede eco y de incertidumbre tras los cerros.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050626510161841?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050626510161841/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050626510161841\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"1 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050626510161841"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050626510161841"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/esperando.html","title":"ESPERANDO..."}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"1"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050621465339238"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:43:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:35:04.316+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"LLUVIA DE VERANO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Ayer las nubes grises en el cielo\u003cbr /\u003edejaban intuir a cada instante,\u003cbr /\u003ejunto al calor de tarde, sofocante,\u003cbr /\u003eque pronto el agua empaparía el suelo.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eTras la lluvia débil, aún se formaron,\u003cbr /\u003eaunque la calle ya estaba asfaltada,\u003cbr /\u003ealgunos charcos sobre la calzada\u003cbr /\u003eque las primeras gotas de hoy colmaron.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eNuestras vidas, sólo en una, fundiéndose,\u003cbr /\u003eme han hecho recordar entusiasmado,\u003cbr /\u003ediminutas lagunas confundiéndose\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003een un pequeño arroyo improvisado;\u003cbr /\u003eel líquido, amor, que entre sí perdiéndose\u003cbr /\u003ehe visto por la ventana de al lado.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050621465339238?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050621465339238/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050621465339238\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"2 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050621465339238"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050621465339238"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/lluvia-de-verano.html","title":"LLUVIA DE VERANO"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"2"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050618070681235"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:42:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:36:15.496+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"EN MI SUEÑO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Contigo soñé perderme\u003cbr /\u003een un lejano lugar,\u003cbr /\u003esucedió que al despertar\u003cbr /\u003ea mi lado nadie duerme.\u003cbr /\u003eRompí en lágrimas al verme\u003cbr /\u003enecesitado de ti,\u003cbr /\u003ea la vez que comprendí,\u003cbr /\u003eya que sueño con tenerte,\u003cbr /\u003eque en mi sueño podré verte,\u003cbr /\u003ey por verte... me dormí.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050618070681235?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050618070681235/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050618070681235\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"1 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050618070681235"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050618070681235"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/en-mi-sueo.html","title":"EN MI SUEÑO"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"1"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050615586298536"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:41:00.002+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:36:48.783+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"EN EL CAMPO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"La gata de piel difusa\u003cbr /\u003esalta por la lisa losa\u003cbr /\u003econ su mirada golosa.\u003cbr /\u003eAl verme intuye confusa\u003cbr /\u003eque en la mesa es una intrusa,\u003cbr /\u003ey con patente pereza\u003cbr /\u003epero con suma destreza\u003cbr /\u003edesciende al suelo sin prisa,\u003cbr /\u003edespués... sin calma, deprisa,\u003cbr /\u003ese pierde entre la maleza.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050615586298536?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050615586298536/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050615586298536\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050615586298536"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050615586298536"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/en-el-campo.html","title":"EN EL CAMPO"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050610836623970"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:41:00.001+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:37:16.586+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"LA MUERTE TAMBIÉN BAILA"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"De blanco el agua vestida\u003cbr /\u003epasea por mi ventana,\u003cbr /\u003ey en este suelo homicida\u003cbr /\u003ese desnuda esta mañana.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eMañana que se ensució\u003cbr /\u003ecuando era noche a las nueve,\u003cbr /\u003epues vino y sangre nevó,\u003cbr /\u003evino, sangre, sangre y nieve.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eAquí en castellana tierra\u003cbr /\u003enavajas probaron suerte,\u003cbr /\u003eforasteras, de la sierra,\u003cbr /\u003ey danzaron con la muerte.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eSin vida, cuerpos yacentes,\u003cbr /\u003eresultado de la danza;\u003cbr /\u003ealmas en pena inocentes\u003cbr /\u003ey espuelas que nadie alcanza.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eÚltima luna del año,\u003cbr /\u003enoche gélida y más larga,\u003cbr /\u003eel astro permite el daño,\u003cbr /\u003ey el día y el año amarga.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eAsesina sol a luna,\u003cbr /\u003ela noche muere en el día,\u003cbr /\u003ey el agua limpia infortuna\u003cbr /\u003econ su ropa a mediodía.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050610836623970?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050610836623970/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050610836623970\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050610836623970"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050610836623970"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/la-muerte-tambin-baila.html","title":"LA MUERTE TAMBIÉN BAILA"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050607346108699"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:41:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:35:40.126+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"SONREÍR"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Sé que a veces el descuido\u003cbr /\u003eo tal vez el malestar\u003cbr /\u003edan tristeza sin sentido\u003cbr /\u003ees difícil de explicar.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ePero aun viéndote perdido\u003cbr /\u003esin poderlo remediar,\u003cbr /\u003ees más fácil tengo oído\u003cbr /\u003esonreír y no llorar.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050607346108699?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050607346108699/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050607346108699\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050607346108699"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050607346108699"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/sonrer.html","title":"SONREÍR"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050603733316995"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:40:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:28:17.550+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"TE HABLARÉ DEL SILENCIO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Otoño, surge una canción,\u003cbr /\u003euna canción triste y lenta,\u003cbr /\u003ey una hoja sin darse cuenta\u003cbr /\u003emuere en su interpretación.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eDe Eva, el inmortal aliento,\u003cbr /\u003eal árbol viejo, despoja,\u003cbr /\u003ede otro músico, de otra hoja;\u003cbr /\u003eremoto disfraz de viento.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eLa voz cruel, perenne, quiere\u003cbr /\u003edejar desnuda a la planta,\u003cbr /\u003ecual hembra que al hombre encanta\u003cbr /\u003econ su caricia y lo hiere.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eCaduco el anciano sabe\u003cbr /\u003eque más de un miembro en su orquesta,\u003cbr /\u003ede tarde hará eterna siesta\u003cbr /\u003esi no sopla brisa suave.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eEl árbol llora esta pena,\u003cbr /\u003ey llora hojas al llorar,\u003cbr /\u003ee igual que el hombre al amar\u003cbr /\u003ea una mujer... se condena.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050603733316995?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050603733316995/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050603733316995\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050603733316995"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050603733316995"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/te-hablar-del-silencio.html","title":"TE HABLARÉ DEL SILENCIO"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050599833209895"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:39:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:34:40.470+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"INSPIRACIÓN"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Esa inspiración que viene\u003cbr /\u003ecomo amiga de tristeza,\u003cbr /\u003esiempre siente la pereza\u003cbr /\u003ede llegar frente al que obtiene,\u003cbr /\u003etras lágrimas, y retiene\u003cbr /\u003ela alegría ante la vida.\u003cbr /\u003eCuando sus penas olvida\u003cbr /\u003equien la tuvo en su lamento,\u003cbr /\u003eque siga estando contento\u003cbr /\u003ey que la dé por perdida.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050599833209895?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050599833209895/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050599833209895\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050599833209895"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050599833209895"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/inspiracin.html","title":"INSPIRACIÓN"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050592525219326"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:38:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:33:33.466+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"LÁGRIMAS DE LIBERTAD"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"«¿Luna o sol ?», piensa  dolida\u003cbr /\u003elibertad... sangre agria lenta\u003cbr /\u003esangre brota de su herida.\u003cbr /\u003e¿Luna o sol?... perdió la cuenta.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eCaen lágrimas al suelo,\u003cbr /\u003elas que no pudo esconder,\u003cbr /\u003etan amargas que alzó el vuelo\u003cbr /\u003ellorando el amanecer.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eEl amanecer llorando\u003cbr /\u003esin lluvia estará mañana;\u003cbr /\u003egotas azules callando,\u003cbr /\u003elazos ante su ventana.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eHora de llanto esperada,\u003cbr /\u003ela calle río de azur,\u003cbr /\u003ehúmeda  calle callada,\u003cbr /\u003esilencio de norte a sur.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eLas lágrimas  se entrelazan,\u003cbr /\u003elos lazos  lloran al viento,\u003cbr /\u003epalabras sin voz se emplazan,\u003cbr /\u003ey en el río un pensamiento:\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e«Libres los hombres nacieron,\u003cbr /\u003epodrán en prisión estar\u003cbr /\u003ecomo tantos estuvieron,\u003cbr /\u003epero aunque os pueda pesar\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ey lo tengáis por cautivo,\u003cbr /\u003elibre será el corazón\u003cbr /\u003edel preso que, sin motivo,\u003cbr /\u003etenéis en vuestra prisión».\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eDuero mudo España y truenos,\u003cbr /\u003easesinan para asustar;\u003cbr /\u003etijeras que, lazos buenos,\u003cbr /\u003eno lograrán desatar.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eLuz de esperanza encendida,\u003cbr /\u003eLibertad sabe que cuenta,\u003cbr /\u003emenos agria de su herida\u003cbr /\u003ebrota sangre, sangre lenta.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ePodrá la cautividad\u003cbr /\u003esecar gotas de rocío,\u003cbr /\u003epero no la libertad\u003cbr /\u003edel corazón ni este río.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050592525219326?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050592525219326/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050592525219326\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"1 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050592525219326"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050592525219326"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/lgrimas-de-libertad.html","title":"LÁGRIMAS DE LIBERTAD"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"1"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050583352638556"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:37:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:32:50.883+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"PERDERTE"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Perderte ha sido perderte...\u003cbr /\u003edesacierto del destino,\u003cbr /\u003enudo en la distancia y suerte,\u003cbr /\u003emala suerte en mi camino.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eLlorar, quisiera llorar,\u003cbr /\u003ehace un año que no lloro,\u003cbr /\u003ey un año ya sin soñar\u003cbr /\u003efuente agotada que añoro.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eSi sólo me quedara una,\u003cbr /\u003euna lágrima, mi cielo,\u003cbr /\u003ede las que secó la luna\u003cbr /\u003econ su puñal por pañuelo,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ede las que vistió de fuego,\u003cbr /\u003econsuelo amargo, su acero,\u003cbr /\u003ede aquellas que ya no llego\u003cbr /\u003eni a recordar su sendero.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eBuenos serían empeños,\u003cbr /\u003esi sólo una me quedara\u003cbr /\u003ey el manantial de mis sueños\u003cbr /\u003econ ella al fin se llenara;\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003epodría soñar con verte,\u003cbr /\u003eno soñarte más, mi vida,\u003cbr /\u003epodría llorar tu muerte\u003cbr /\u003ey así curar esta herida.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050583352638556?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050583352638556/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050583352638556\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"2 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050583352638556"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050583352638556"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/perderte.html","title":"PERDERTE"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"2"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050580026311100"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:36:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:32:02.520+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"YA NO TE QUIERO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Abro mis ojos y grito:\u003cbr /\u003e«Esta noche no he soñado\u003cbr /\u003eni con tu rostro bonito\u003cbr /\u003eni con tu cuerpo salado,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ey ni tu voz melodiosa\u003cbr /\u003eni de tu paso el sonido,\u003cbr /\u003eacariciaron, hermosa,\u003cbr /\u003econ su murmullo mi oído».\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eYa sin quebrar el silencio\u003cbr /\u003econ mi voz vuelo valiente,\u003cbr /\u003ey vuelo, vuelo y presencio\u003cbr /\u003eel final de mi mente.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eGrabo el rumor apagado,\u003cbr /\u003ey al mundo por un sendero\u003cbr /\u003etorno esta vez descansado,\u003cbr /\u003egritando: «Ya no te quiero».\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050580026311100?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050580026311100/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050580026311100\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050580026311100"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050580026311100"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/ya-no-te-quiero.html","title":"YA NO TE QUIERO"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050563664707827"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:34:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:30:43.633+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"SUEÑOS DE PAPEL"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Quiebra su cuerpo una lanza,\u003cbr /\u003epor tus sueños, su pesar,\u003cbr /\u003ey esperar con esperanza,\u003cbr /\u003esólo le queda esperar...\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eLlora tinta el corazón\u003cbr /\u003esin tus sueños de papel,\u003cbr /\u003eestá vacío el buzón,\u003cbr /\u003etan vacío como aquél,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ey aunque soñarte pudiera\u003cbr /\u003eno puede aquél sonreír,\u003cbr /\u003eno sonríe es primavera\u003cbr /\u003epero invierno  es su latir.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eNo te culpa a ti su llanto,\u003cbr /\u003eni su espera, ni mi mente,\u003cbr /\u003ey a mí por amarte tanto\u003cbr /\u003eculparánme eternamente.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eTus cartas torno a leer\u003cbr /\u003esus rasgos, todos, me aprendo,\u003cbr /\u003equizá no supe entender...\u003cbr /\u003equizá te estaba perdiendo.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eTal vez mil duendes sombríos,\u003cbr /\u003ede la luna disfrazados,\u003cbr /\u003ede vida triste hacen líos\u003cbr /\u003ede tristeza a enamorados.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eDel mal sino, su infortuna,\u003cbr /\u003epara mí quizá ese acierto,\u003cbr /\u003eese sueño en el que  Luna\u003cbr /\u003ese equivoca y no despierto,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eesos versos que recibes\u003cbr /\u003esin saber que soy su dueño,\u003cbr /\u003eesa carta que no escribes\u003cbr /\u003ey que leo en cada sueño.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050563664707827?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050563664707827/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050563664707827\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050563664707827"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050563664707827"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/sueos-de-papel.html","title":"SUEÑOS DE PAPEL"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050559014693894"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:33:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2006-01-13T02:24:56.316+01:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"DUÉRMEME"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"A la pobre joyería\u003cbr /\u003eotra vez me hizo volver,\u003cbr /\u003ey dime quién negaría\u003cbr /\u003eun deseo a una mujer.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eFuego de estrellas sus ojos,\u003cbr /\u003esu cuerpo rayo de luna,\u003cbr /\u003esu perdición sus antojos,\u003cbr /\u003emi perdición su infortuna.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eVi negra la noche clara,\u003cbr /\u003evi su luz desvanecerse,\u003cbr /\u003evi aquella nube tan cara\u003cbr /\u003eentre los dos oponerse.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eLa tormenta se desata,\u003cbr /\u003ela nube descarga ruina,\u003cbr /\u003eprofana su piel de plata\u003cbr /\u003ey lo grabo en mi retina:\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eatraco, truenos, se muere,\u003cbr /\u003eyo herido lloro en el suelo,\u003cbr /\u003ey dime qué amor no quiere\u003cbr /\u003eantes que el otro ir al cielo.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050559014693894?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050559014693894/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050559014693894\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050559014693894"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050559014693894"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/durmeme.html","title":"DUÉRMEME"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050555468824554"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:32:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:41:59.430+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"SUEÑOS, AMOR Y MUERTE"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Mi afanada vida rancia\u003cbr /\u003eesta fútil senectud,\u003cbr /\u003edespertó en el ataúd,\u003cbr /\u003edespertó sin tu fragancia.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eLágrimas, amanecer,\u003cbr /\u003ey ya luna y aún te lloro,\u003cbr /\u003epues tuve más que un tesoro,\u003cbr /\u003etuve en sueños tu querer.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eY quizá ya de una vez\u003cbr /\u003ecese al fin en mis empeños,\u003cbr /\u003ede tu amor y de mis sueños,\u003cbr /\u003ede mis sueños de vejez...\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eMuerte buena, muerte mala,\u003cbr /\u003emuerte odiada y esperada,\u003cbr /\u003ebella muerte, muerte amada,\u003cbr /\u003emuéstrame, muerte, tu escala.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050555468824554?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050555468824554/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050555468824554\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"2 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050555468824554"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050555468824554"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/sueos-amor-y-muerte.html","title":"SUEÑOS, AMOR Y MUERTE"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"2"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050551598521172"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:30:00.001+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:43:03.456+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"EL AMOR"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Sucede que no se sabe\u003cbr /\u003eque es lo que esconde esa brisa,\u003cbr /\u003ees sólo un susurro suave\u003cbr /\u003esutil saeta que avisa.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050551598521172?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050551598521172/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050551598521172\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050551598521172"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050551598521172"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/el-amor.html","title":"EL AMOR"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050544002191569"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:30:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:43:25.143+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"PALABRAS"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Mi corazón te entregué,\u003cbr /\u003etú sólo me lo prestaste,\u003cbr /\u003elloro mi pena y no sé\u003cbr /\u003epor qué razón me engañaste.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ePalabras, dulce veneno,\u003cbr /\u003edulce que puede amargar,\u003cbr /\u003ese fue mi corazón bueno\u003cbr /\u003econtigo a cualquier lugar.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eHoy el tuyo me exigiste,\u003cbr /\u003eluna negra y frustración,\u003cbr /\u003eme siento vacío y triste\u003cbr /\u003eya no tengo corazón.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050544002191569?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050544002191569/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050544002191569\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050544002191569"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050544002191569"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/palabras.html","title":"PALABRAS"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050540553190367"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:29:00.002+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2009-01-03T18:45:15.131+01:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"RÉQUIEM"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Trae, viento gris, la arena\u003cbr /\u003emás amarga del desierto,\u003cbr /\u003equisiera ver si su pena\u003cbr /\u003eme convence de que ha muerto.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eAquí tienes, gime el viento,\u003cbr /\u003epolvo que llora una duna,\u003cbr /\u003ede su boca huye un lamento\u003cbr /\u003eque traduce así la luna:\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e«Como a los versos no hieren\u003cbr /\u003elos mortales desaciertos,\u003cbr /\u003elos poetas nunca mueren\u003cbr /\u003esólo fingen estar muertos».\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e--\u003cbr /\u003eNota* La cita «los poetas nunca mueren sólo fingen estar muertos» es original de \u003ca href\u003d\"http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yosi_Dom%C3%ADnguez\" target\u003d\"blank\"\u003eYosi\u003c/a\u003e, vocalista de «\u003ca href\u003d\"http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Los_Suaves\"target\u003d\"blank\" \u003eLos Suaves\u003c/a\u003e»\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050540553190367?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050540553190367/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050540553190367\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050540553190367"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050540553190367"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/rquiem.html","title":"RÉQUIEM"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050533682038225"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:28:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:44:10.836+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"A UNA FUENTE"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Yo quisiera pensar que no hay destino,\u003cbr /\u003eque en el flujo de la vida que fluye\u003cbr /\u003ey corre, corre sin parar no influye\u003cbr /\u003edescansado y eterno el desatino,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eque una lágrima ahoga sólo penas\u003cbr /\u003ey nunca al llorar, de sed muere un hombre,\u003cbr /\u003eque ha de ser fácil encontrar tu nombre,\u003cbr /\u003esoñar que existes, saber que me suenas.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eYo quisiera pensar que no te quiero,\u003cbr /\u003eque aunque ya te conozco no te adoro,\u003cbr /\u003eque he quedado contigo y no te espero,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eque voy tras una aguja y un tesoro,\u003cbr /\u003ey que bordar, (si de tu sed no muero),\u003cbr /\u003elas letras, quiero, del presente en oro.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050533682038225?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050533682038225/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050533682038225\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050533682038225"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050533682038225"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/una-fuente.html","title":"A UNA FUENTE"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050530390116123"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:27:00.001+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:44:36.436+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"EL ESPEJO DE UN SUEÑO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Ni un día viví sin verte,\u003cbr /\u003etiempo atrás, melancolía,\u003cbr /\u003ey ella, mi pluma, (hoy inerte),\u003cbr /\u003erebosaba de alegría.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eAhora al llorar su muerte\u003cbr /\u003eentiendo por qué escribía:\u003cbr /\u003e«No te fíes de la suerte\u003cbr /\u003eque tu suerte no es la mía».\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050530390116123?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050530390116123/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050530390116123\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050530390116123"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050530390116123"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/el-espejo-de-un-sueo.html","title":"EL ESPEJO DE UN SUEÑO"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050524820680606"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:27:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:44:59.266+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"RECUERDOS DE AYER Y SIEMPRE"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Vi en el diario tu esquela,\u003cbr /\u003eDiego, mi amigo, querido,\u003cbr /\u003emelancolía es la espuela\u003cbr /\u003eque me deja sin sentido.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eVeintidós calles andadas\u003cbr /\u003ey cien calles por andar,\u003cbr /\u003eveintidós mal empedradas\u003cbr /\u003eque en el cielo han de arreglar.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eMiro atrás en el camino\u003cbr /\u003ey no llueve ni hace frío,\u003cbr /\u003ellueve al saber que el destino\u003cbr /\u003ete apagó en el mar de un río.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eMaldita la eterna siesta\u003cbr /\u003eque te hizo anochecer,\u003cbr /\u003emil preguntas sin respuesta\u003cbr /\u003ey otro duro amanecer.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eLas lágrimas de mis ojos\u003cbr /\u003equieren verte en mi interior,\u003cbr /\u003eson las lágrimas despojos\u003cbr /\u003ede otro tiempo que es mejor,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003elas partidas de ajedrez,\u003cbr /\u003etu sonrisa y lealtad,\u003cbr /\u003emis ojos cierro otra vez,\u003cbr /\u003emil recuerdos... tu amistad.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eSé que con mucha atención\u003cbr /\u003edesde el cielo me verás,\u003cbr /\u003ey siempre en mi corazón\u003cbr /\u003emientras viva VIVIRÁS.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050524820680606?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050524820680606/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050524820680606\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050524820680606"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050524820680606"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/recuerdos-de-ayer-y-siempre_04.html","title":"RECUERDOS DE AYER Y SIEMPRE"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050518564801865"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:25:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:46:12.153+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"LAS FLORES DEL PASADO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Olvidé que te olvidé,\u003cbr /\u003ey en sueños al recordarte\u003cbr /\u003esoñaba que antes soñé\u003cbr /\u003esuavemente acariciarte.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eCuánto me duele el dolor,\u003cbr /\u003eel dolor de mis empeños,\u003cbr /\u003emis sueños contigo, amor,\u003cbr /\u003eamor, contigo tus sueños.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050518564801865?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050518564801865/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050518564801865\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050518564801865"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050518564801865"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/las-flores-del-pasado.html","title":"LAS FLORES DEL PASADO"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050513225648722"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:24:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:29:05.166+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"QUERIDA AMIGA"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Tantas cartas y profundas\u003cbr /\u003eque conozco tu interior,\u003cbr /\u003ecada hueco, porque inundas\u003cbr /\u003emi razón con tu calor.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eHace poco me dijeron:\u003cbr /\u003e«Tiene el sol en sus cabellos,\u003cbr /\u003esi los vieras –añadieron–\u003cbr /\u003etantos rayos y tan bellos».\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eDe tus ojos toma el cielo\u003cbr /\u003esi no hay nubes su color,\u003cbr /\u003ey éste llora cuando un velo\u003cbr /\u003etapa todo su esplendor.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eQuisiera mi corazón\u003cbr /\u003elágrimas poder secar,\u003cbr /\u003ete conozco de ilusión\u003cbr /\u003esólo te puedo soñar.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050513225648722?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050513225648722/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050513225648722\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050513225648722"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050513225648722"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/querida-amiga.html","title":"QUERIDA AMIGA"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050508603391074"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:23:00.004+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2009-01-03T18:51:18.207+01:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"FLOR DE ALHELÍ"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Te perdí en mis sueños, flor de Alhelí,\u003cbr /\u003ete perdí al despertar, luna y sudor,\u003cbr /\u003esonaban «Los Suaves» y te perdí.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eY aunque te amé nunca obtuve tu calor,\u003cbr /\u003ea pesar de que mi vida te di\u003cbr /\u003eme inundaste el corazón de dolor.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ePasa el tiempo y sigo pensando en ti,\u003cbr /\u003ete odio porque tienes todo mi amor,\u003cbr /\u003emuero porque tú no mueres por mí.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e--\u003cbr /\u003eNota* Los versos de la última estrofa fueron tomados de distintas partes de la canción «Llegaste hasta mí» incluida en el primer disco de \u003ca href\u003d\"http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Los_Suaves\" target\u003d\"blank\"\u003eLos Suaves\u003c/a\u003e «Esta vida me va a matar».\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050508603391074?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050508603391074/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050508603391074\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050508603391074"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050508603391074"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/flor-de-alhel.html","title":"FLOR DE ALHELÍ"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050504808733686"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:23:00.001+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:47:29.223+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"ALGO DE MÍ"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Hoy me duele el corazón,\u003cbr /\u003earrancármelo quisiera,\u003cbr /\u003edejarlo en la estación\u003cbr /\u003ey tomar un tren cualquiera.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eMi corazón y mis señas\u003cbr /\u003equisiera olvidar así,\u003cbr /\u003ey soñar si tú lo sueñas\u003cbr /\u003eque se queda junto a ti,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eo morir si me asegura\u003cbr /\u003eque no sueñas hoy, la luna,\u003cbr /\u003eo morir por la amargura\u003cbr /\u003ede este rayo de infortuna.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050504808733686?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050504808733686/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050504808733686\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"2 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050504808733686"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050504808733686"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/algo-de-m.html","title":"ALGO DE MÍ"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"2"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050501404582346"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:23:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:47:56.193+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"LUNA BLANCA"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"De sombra vive las horas\u003cbr /\u003ey de horas de amor la sombra,\u003cbr /\u003ey en sus noches perdedoras\u003cbr /\u003esus días vive y ahombra.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eLuna Blanca vende ardor,\u003cbr /\u003evende vida y besos rotos,\u003cbr /\u003evasos vacíos de amor\u003cbr /\u003eque brinda cerca, remotos.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ePor la noches si sonríe\u003cbr /\u003eno sonríe en realidad,\u003cbr /\u003ey no sueña ni se ríe\u003cbr /\u003esólo finge que es verdad.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eSe acuesta por la mañana\u003cbr /\u003ecansada de trabajar,\u003cbr /\u003ey en su colchón que es de lana\u003cbr /\u003eno hay promesas que olvidar.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050501404582346?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050501404582346/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050501404582346\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050501404582346"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050501404582346"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/luna-blanca.html","title":"LUNA BLANCA"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050497447630630"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:22:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:48:21.613+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"LA PATRIA"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Un hombre bueno podría\u003cbr /\u003emorir por su patria pero\u003cbr /\u003enunca matar por ella.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050497447630630?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050497447630630/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050497447630630\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050497447630630"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050497447630630"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/la-patria.html","title":"LA PATRIA"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050381012717464"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:03:00.002+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2008-06-03T04:45:14.143+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"MI SUEÑO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Una noche soñé que no era yo,\u003cbr /\u003eque mi vida no era tal, y me sentía bien.\u003cbr /\u003eSoñé que el mundo era justo,\u003cbr /\u003eque la gente reía y no hacía el mal,\u003cbr /\u003eque se podía soñar porque los sueños se cumplían;\u003cbr /\u003ey en ese sueño soñé,\u003cbr /\u003esoñé con un mundo raro,\u003cbr /\u003ehostil, idéntico al nuestro.\u003cbr /\u003ePor eso a veces pienso\u003cbr /\u003eque pude haber cambiado el mundo,\u003cbr /\u003ey sigo esperando mi sueño,\u003cbr /\u003eun sueño en el que soñar otro final,\u003cbr /\u003eun mejor final.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050381012717464?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050381012717464/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050381012717464\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"2 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050381012717464"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050381012717464"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/mi-sueo.html","title":"MI SUEÑO"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"2"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050385066730558"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:03:00.001+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:48:48.930+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"OTRA LUNA"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Cómo soportar la vida\u003cbr /\u003ecuando la vida se para,\u003cbr /\u003ecuando despierta dormida,\u003cbr /\u003ey dormida te dispara.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eCuando alegría bosteza\u003cbr /\u003ey ríe melancolía,\u003cbr /\u003ecómo soportar tristeza,\u003cbr /\u003esi no existe poesía.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eUna mirada, un lamento,\u003cbr /\u003eun amor, una pasión,\u003cbr /\u003eun poema es sentimiento\u003cbr /\u003eque nace del corazón.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ePuedo poemas soñar\u003cbr /\u003ey penar con ellos puedo,\u003cbr /\u003ey en mi noche dibujar\u003cbr /\u003eotra luna con el dedo.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050385066730558?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050385066730558/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050385066730558\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050385066730558"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050385066730558"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/otra-luna.html","title":"OTRA LUNA"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050374581679609"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:01:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:50:29.313+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"ESTA NOCHE MIRA AL CIELO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Del ayer, llora amargura,\u003cbr /\u003ellora llanto y desamor,\u003cbr /\u003epor el sol de tu figura\u003cbr /\u003ellora la luna de amor.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050374581679609?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050374581679609/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050374581679609\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050374581679609"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050374581679609"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/esta-noche-mira-al-cielo.html","title":"ESTA NOCHE MIRA AL CIELO"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050364010833617"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T21:00:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:51:25.803+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"LA BURLA DEL DESTINO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Carcajada fría, seca y mojada\u003cbr /\u003eque mi luna en la noche arroja al viento,\u003cbr /\u003erisa falsa que muere en mi morada\u003cbr /\u003ey me atormenta el alma con su aliento.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eY mientras ríe el húmedo destino\u003cbr /\u003ellora una nube y mi corazón llora,\u003cbr /\u003ecada lágrima llora en el camino\u003cbr /\u003ede amor y ensancha el charco en el que mora.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eRíe , ríe, que, de tu risa, el ruido\u003cbr /\u003ey mi llanto enseñan, duende malvado,\u003cbr /\u003eque el amor despierta si está dormido;\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eeterno, místico y desorbitado,\u003cbr /\u003eel amor humano de un ser herido\u003cbr /\u003eque, sueña y solloza, por ser amado.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050364010833617?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050364010833617/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050364010833617\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050364010833617"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050364010833617"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/la-burla-del-destino.html","title":"LA BURLA DEL DESTINO"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050359683763973"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T20:59:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:51:49.066+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"LA VIDA"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Inoportuna y constante\u003cbr /\u003ees la vida al transcurrir,\u003cbr /\u003ela muerte es sólo un instante\u003cbr /\u003epara dejar de morir.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050359683763973?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050359683763973/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050359683763973\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050359683763973"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050359683763973"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/la-vida.html","title":"LA VIDA"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050350790889696"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T20:58:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:52:09.860+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"EL CORAZÓN"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Erguido en sus entrañas, profundo como él mismo,\u003cbr /\u003ehúmedo de amores y remoto el corazón\u003cbr /\u003eañora, lejana esperanza, vaga ilusión,\u003cbr /\u003ellamarada inmortal que se muere en el abismo.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050350790889696?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050350790889696/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050350790889696\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050350790889696"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050350790889696"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/el-corazn.html","title":"EL CORAZÓN"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050345465489067"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T20:57:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:52:36.503+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"ELLA"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"El día de su amargura\u003cbr /\u003ees una cárcel de amor,\u003cbr /\u003ela noche espejo y pintura\u003cbr /\u003edel ayer y el desamor.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050345465489067?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050345465489067/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050345465489067\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050345465489067"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050345465489067"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/ella.html","title":"ELLA"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050341537827032"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T20:56:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:53:01.166+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"LUNA DE ABRIL"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Qué bonito en el ocaso\u003cbr /\u003ecaminar junto a mi amor,\u003cbr /\u003econ un beso a cada paso,\u003cbr /\u003ey en cada beso una flor.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eQué bonito es el poema\u003cbr /\u003ede su dulce caminar,\u003cbr /\u003equé tierna la diadema\u003cbr /\u003ede su mirada al mirar.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eQué bonita su silueta,\u003cbr /\u003ede silencio, perfumada,\u003cbr /\u003eo el volar de esa cometa\u003cbr /\u003eque es su voz inusitada.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050341537827032?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050341537827032/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050341537827032\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050341537827032"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050341537827032"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/luna-de-abril.html","title":"LUNA DE ABRIL"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050333739508397"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T20:55:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:53:29.050+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"DÉJAME"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Sueño de amor eterno desfasado\u003cbr /\u003eque ruge mientras ríe mi destino,\u003cbr /\u003ey me obliga a sufrir, acorralado\u003cbr /\u003ey solo en la miseria del camino,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ey es sólo un sueño, un sueño de hielo\u003cbr /\u003eel que me corta el alma en el ocaso,\u003cbr /\u003eel que de lágrimas llena el pañuelo\u003cbr /\u003econ el que me tropiezo a cada paso.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eHoy me río y ¿qué?, si mañana lloro,\u003cbr /\u003elágrimas de amor, lágrimas sin más,\u003cbr /\u003ey ¿qué? si lloro por tu amor que ignoro,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003esi no has venido nunca y ya te vas,\u003cbr /\u003een paz, déjame si, al dolor, imploro,\u003cbr /\u003epena amarga que baila a mi compás.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050333739508397?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050333739508397/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050333739508397\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050333739508397"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050333739508397"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/djame.html","title":"DÉJAME"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050330154943607"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T20:54:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:53:52.103+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"AL SOL DE TUS OJOS"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Rumores de amor dormitan\u003cbr /\u003een el fulgor de un desvelo,\u003cbr /\u003ecuando los poemas gritan\u003cbr /\u003ese escucha el latir del cielo.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050330154943607?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050330154943607/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050330154943607\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050330154943607"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050330154943607"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/al-sol-de-tus-ojos.html","title":"AL SOL DE TUS OJOS"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050323713226577"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T20:53:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:54:13.743+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"LA LUNA"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Hoy es uno de esos días\u003cbr /\u003een los que la luna llora\u003cbr /\u003ede amor, lágrimas, y añora\u003cbr /\u003eoír viejas poesías.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eDonde sonrisa no suena\u003cbr /\u003ey alegría no responde,\u003cbr /\u003een su cara oculta, esconde,\u003cbr /\u003edolor dulce y triste pena.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eDe la tierra, en la estación,\u003cbr /\u003eluna ve con infortuna,\u003cbr /\u003eque, ella, desdichada tuna\u003cbr /\u003eno recuerda su canción.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eY al llorar entre la gente,\u003cbr /\u003ela luna, pobre, no entiende,\u003cbr /\u003eque un poema no se aprende,\u003cbr /\u003eo se siente o no se siente.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eSu sentimiento es un tema,\u003cbr /\u003euna canción de amargura,\u003cbr /\u003ey su vida extraña y pura,\u003cbr /\u003esu vida entera un poema.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050323713226577?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050323713226577/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050323713226577\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050323713226577"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050323713226577"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/la-luna.html","title":"LA LUNA"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050311814519742"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T20:50:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:54:35.453+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"AYER"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Con la esperanza perdida\u003cbr /\u003etrato de pensar en ti,\u003cbr /\u003ey mientras pasa mi vida,\u003cbr /\u003emi vida pasa de mí.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eAyer se acabó la fiesta\u003cbr /\u003ey con ella mi ilusión,\u003cbr /\u003eayer se llenó mi testa\u003cbr /\u003edel llanto del corazón.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eLa vida rauda prosigue\u003cbr /\u003eyo canto al sol de tus ojos,\u003cbr /\u003eel amor aún me persigue\u003cbr /\u003ea pesar de sus cerrojos.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050311814519742?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050311814519742/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050311814519742\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050311814519742"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050311814519742"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/ayer.html","title":"AYER"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050302694586203"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T20:47:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:54:57.716+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"PRISIONERO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"La luna de mi destino\u003cbr /\u003eapaga la claridad,\u003cbr /\u003esu claro espejito albino\u003cbr /\u003erefleja mi soledad.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eTorres de piedra sin techo\u003cbr /\u003ecantan un triste cantar,\u003cbr /\u003esuena más triste en mi pecho,\u003cbr /\u003emás triste no ha de sonar.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eAllá siento el frío canto\u003cbr /\u003ede los muros, mi condena,\u003cbr /\u003ey en un charco de llanto\u003cbr /\u003eahogo mi dulce pena.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eBusco en mi bolso los tejos,\u003cbr /\u003equizá los pude perder,\u003cbr /\u003eviendo que el mar no está lejos\u003cbr /\u003elágrimas veo caer.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eLloro amargura en un pozo,\u003cbr /\u003enegra, oscura sensación,\u003cbr /\u003ede mi alegría y mi gozo\u003cbr /\u003esólo queda una ilusión,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ey al dudar en agonía\u003cbr /\u003esi el amor existirá,\u003cbr /\u003esi noche me ofrece el día,\u003cbr /\u003ela noche, noche me da.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050302694586203?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050302694586203/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050302694586203\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050302694586203"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050302694586203"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/prisionero.html","title":"PRISIONERO"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112050283822915496"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-04T20:45:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:56:41.066+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"AMISTAD Y SOMBRA"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Querida Melancolía\u003cbr /\u003emi tristeza es infinita,\u003cbr /\u003ey no conozco alegría\u003cbr /\u003eni florida ni marchita,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eun amor inconfesado\u003cbr /\u003eme hace llorar de amargura,\u003cbr /\u003ey aquí me encuentro a tu lado\u003cbr /\u003eamargando tu figura.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eCuando por mí llore el cielo\u003cbr /\u003equizá te abandone, amiga,\u003cbr /\u003equizá levante del suelo\u003cbr /\u003emi alegría y la persiga.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ePero hasta que el cielo llore\u003cbr /\u003ete prometo una sonrisa,\u003cbr /\u003eno espero que te enamore\u003cbr /\u003eni que me olvides deprisa,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003esólo quiero de momento\u003cbr /\u003esentirme libre y valiente,\u003cbr /\u003eno quiero que mi tormento\u003cbr /\u003een su llorar te atormente.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eAmiga de oscuridad\u003cbr /\u003etu frío llanto me asombra,\u003cbr /\u003etranquila que en claridad\u003cbr /\u003eaunque haya luz, habrá sombra,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ede mi corazón, una parte,\u003cbr /\u003etuya será aunque ría,\u003cbr /\u003etuya aunque mi risa y arte\u003cbr /\u003eflorezcan de nuevo un día;\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ey aunque tú, amor, nos separes\u003cbr /\u003emi vida será su vida,\u003cbr /\u003eluz y sombra, otros lugares\u003cbr /\u003ey la esperanza encendida.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112050283822915496?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112050283822915496/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112050283822915496\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050283822915496"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112050283822915496"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/amistad-y-sombra.html","title":"AMISTAD Y SOMBRA"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112032086565401839"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-02T18:14:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:57:04.676+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"TELARAÑAS"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Solitario, oscuro y hondo,\u003cbr /\u003esi despiertos o dormidos,\u003cbr /\u003emi desván no tiene fondo\u003cbr /\u003esólo sueños incumplidos.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eHoy despierta mi amargura\u003cbr /\u003eprisionera del amor,\u003cbr /\u003ey en su cárcel, ¡travesura!,\u003cbr /\u003edel ayer, el desamor.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ePúas en mi corazón,\u003cbr /\u003epúas de amores pasados,\u003cbr /\u003eme hacen buscar la razón\u003cbr /\u003ede mis sueños olvidados.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eEn el desván de mis sueños,\u003cbr /\u003ede lágrimas, hay goteras,\u003cbr /\u003ey en dos baúles pequeños\u003cbr /\u003ehay palabras traicioneras.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eEn el baúl que está abierto\u003cbr /\u003ehay sonrisas y un \"te quiero\",\u003cbr /\u003ey en éste que a abrir no acierto\u003cbr /\u003ela mentira de tu pero.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eDe tu pero, telarañas,\u003cbr /\u003erisa, llanto, prisa y calma,\u003cbr /\u003eamor y odio en mis entrañas,\u003cbr /\u003eodio y amor en mi alma.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ePúas en mi corazón,\u003cbr /\u003epúas de amores pasados,\u003cbr /\u003eme hacen buscar la razón\u003cbr /\u003ede mis sueños olvidados,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ey entre que olvido y recuerdo\u003cbr /\u003eno recuerdo ya tu olvido,\u003cbr /\u003ecomencé en un sueño cuerdo\u003cbr /\u003ey acabé por ti perdido.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eSolitario, oscuro y hondo,\u003cbr /\u003esi despiertos o dormidos,\u003cbr /\u003emi desván no tiene fondo\u003cbr /\u003esólo sueños incumplidos.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112032086565401839?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112032086565401839/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112032086565401839\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112032086565401839"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112032086565401839"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/telaraas.html","title":"TELARAÑAS"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112032073229067864"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-02T18:11:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:57:25.506+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"LA RUEDA"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"¿Por quién doblan las campanas?,\u003cbr /\u003e¿por quién llora el transistor?,\u003cbr /\u003ehoy han muerto las guitarras,\u003cbr /\u003ehoy ha muerto en rocanrol.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eCada lunes las baladas,\u003cbr /\u003elentas, disparan al rock,\u003cbr /\u003ecada una de sus balas\u003cbr /\u003ees producto del amor.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eYa no brillan mis estrellas,\u003cbr /\u003ey en la radio una canción\u003cbr /\u003ecuenta despacio las penas\u003cbr /\u003ey el amor de una pasión.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eA seis penas de distancia\u003cbr /\u003ese encuentra tu corazón,\u003cbr /\u003ey, de un sueño, la esperanza,\u003cbr /\u003ede mi vida, es la razón.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eCon las penas recorridas\u003cbr /\u003enacerá de nuevo el rock,\u003cbr /\u003ela esperanza, los tequilas,\u003cbr /\u003ey muy pronto mi dolor.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112032073229067864?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112032073229067864/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112032073229067864\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112032073229067864"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112032073229067864"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/la-rueda.html","title":"LA RUEDA"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112032063128185947"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-02T18:06:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2006-05-02T03:03:38.200+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"LA SOMBRA DEL ESPEJO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Noche de sus días, cuna\u003cbr /\u003ede sus noches y amargura,\u003cbr /\u003eastro espeso, negra luna,\u003cbr /\u003evete de mi España oscura,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ealéjate, que entre el sol,\u003cbr /\u003eque quiero otear el mundo\u003cbr /\u003ey soñar que olvido el rol,\u003cbr /\u003eeste rol de vagabundo\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003econ el que siento la niebla\u003cbr /\u003ey el frío llanto que entraña,\u003cbr /\u003eel vivir en la tiniebla\u003cbr /\u003ede esta maltratada España,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003emaltratada en sus valores,\u003cbr /\u003een sus sueños e intenciones,\u003cbr /\u003epresa de falsos «Señores»\u003cbr /\u003eque defienden sus «naciones»,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eque destruyen su memoria,\u003cbr /\u003enuevas naciones, de nada,\u003cbr /\u003eque entierran siglos de historia\u003cbr /\u003een arena envenenada.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eArena, voces de cabras\u003cbr /\u003ea votantes desvalidos,\u003cbr /\u003earena que son palabras\u003cbr /\u003esin dejar de ser balidos.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eIdos con \u003cacronym title\u003d\"autonomía: en referencia a las Comunidades Autónomas que hoy conforman España\"\u003eautonomía\u003c/acronym\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ereyezuelos del puchero,\u003cbr /\u003ellévatelos, luna fría,\u003cbr /\u003ey empieza ya tu sendero.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eDeja a mi tierra otro hado,\u003cbr /\u003ea mi tierra castellana,\u003cbr /\u003eque si olvida su pasado\u003cbr /\u003elo lamentará mañana,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003emárchate, que otro destino\u003cbr /\u003equizá le ayude a seguir,\u003cbr /\u003ea ver mejor el camino\u003cbr /\u003ey tal vez a sonreír.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112032063128185947?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112032063128185947/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112032063128185947\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112032063128185947"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112032063128185947"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/la-sombra-del-espejo.html","title":"LA SOMBRA DEL ESPEJO"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112032036300394753"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-02T18:04:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:58:07.703+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"EL SUEÑO DE UN ESPEJO ROTO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Marioneta que se asombra\u003cbr /\u003ede cuerdas desdibujadas,\u003cbr /\u003eel hombre no es más que sombra\u003cbr /\u003ede una luna en carcajadas.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eHumedecen con su letra\u003cbr /\u003eestos versos mi ilusión,\u003cbr /\u003ey una lágrima penetra\u003cbr /\u003ey me moja el corazón.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eCon el corazón mojado\u003cbr /\u003eintento soñar contigo,\u003cbr /\u003ellanto de amor empapado\u003cbr /\u003eque soñarte no consigo.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eOtro, otro día más\u003cbr /\u003eque sin ti gritaré al cielo,\u003cbr /\u003eque me encontraré detrás\u003cbr /\u003ede todo el mundo en el suelo,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eotro que veré ante mí\u003cbr /\u003eel cerrar de los cerrojos,\u003cbr /\u003eotro día más sin ti,\u003cbr /\u003esin tu pelo y sin tus ojos.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eEl espejo no se adueña\u003cbr /\u003een su sueño del amor,\u003cbr /\u003emi destino no te sueña\u003cbr /\u003emás bien vive el desamor.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eSi albina la luna ríe,\u003cbr /\u003eoscura su sombra llora,\u003cbr /\u003esi el astro siempre sonríe\u003cbr /\u003epor qué iba a parar ahora.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eSi aquí no puedo pensarte,\u003cbr /\u003esi no puedo ver tu faz,\u003cbr /\u003edime si puedo encontrarte\u003cbr /\u003esi en mi muerte está mi paz,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eresponde al menos mi ruego,\u003cbr /\u003epermíteme descansar,\u003cbr /\u003eo es que la luna y su juego\u003cbr /\u003eya no te dejan hablar.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112032036300394753?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112032036300394753/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112032036300394753\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112032036300394753"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112032036300394753"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/el-sueo-de-un-espejo-roto.html","title":"EL SUEÑO DE UN ESPEJO ROTO"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112032023342927957"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-02T18:03:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T18:59:59.590+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"TRAS DE TI"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Dime, dime dónde estás,\u003cbr /\u003equisiera andar y buscarte,\u003cbr /\u003equisiera dejarte atrás\u003cbr /\u003ey en mis sueños no soñarte.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eEstoy perdido y sin ti,\u003cbr /\u003ey tampoco estoy conmigo,\u003cbr /\u003eando tan lejos de mí\u003cbr /\u003eque quisiera estar contigo.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eA quién le importa si río\u003cbr /\u003ey si lloro qué más da,\u003cbr /\u003ea quién le importa, Dios mío,\u003cbr /\u003eun amor que no vendrá.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eTengo en mi pecho tu anillo,\u003cbr /\u003een el suelo mi ilusión,\u003cbr /\u003een una mano un cuchillo\u003cbr /\u003ey en la otra el corazón.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112032023342927957?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112032023342927957/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112032023342927957\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"1 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112032023342927957"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112032023342927957"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/tras-de-ti.html","title":"TRAS DE TI"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"1"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112032019573449757"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-02T18:02:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:00:22.913+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"LUNA DE ENAMORADOS"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"La luna de enamorados\u003cbr /\u003enace una noche serena,\u003cbr /\u003ea veces cada cien años,\u003cbr /\u003ea veces cada cincuenta.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eAlmas gemelas se miran,\u003cbr /\u003esus labios callan, se funden\u003cbr /\u003een una llama encendida\u003cbr /\u003ede insospechados perfumes.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ePasa un instante eterno,\u003cbr /\u003eya separados, se palpa\u003cbr /\u003eamor en el aire, viento\u003cbr /\u003eque flota, corre y se calma.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eEl amor único aroma,\u003cbr /\u003eojos espejo de ojos\u003cbr /\u003ey boca lecho de boca,\u003cbr /\u003esiguen callados y solos;\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eel silencio, de amor, habla\u003cbr /\u003ecuando la palabra duerme,\u003cbr /\u003ey no duerme cuando ama\u003cbr /\u003eel amor que nunca muere.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112032019573449757?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112032019573449757/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112032019573449757\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112032019573449757"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112032019573449757"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/luna-de-enamorados.html","title":"LUNA DE ENAMORADOS"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112032012593257616"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-02T18:01:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:00:50.233+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"LA LUNA Y YO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Animal, soy, de agua en tierra\u003cbr /\u003eporque lloro y no respiro,\u003cbr /\u003ehoy tu silencio me entierra,\u003cbr /\u003ehoy la veo y no la miro.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eHabla, maldito destino,\u003cbr /\u003eháblame ya de una vez,\u003cbr /\u003edime si existe un camino\u003cbr /\u003ehacia el río para un pez.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eNo me mientas no hay sendero,\u003cbr /\u003ey no hay río ni lo habrá,\u003cbr /\u003een mi pecho hay un letrero\u003cbr /\u003ey mi corazón se va.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eMi latir se va a la fragua,\u003cbr /\u003esécate, corazón mío,\u003cbr /\u003ecambio lágrimas por agua\u003cbr /\u003epara fabricar un río,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ecambio mi prisa y mi calma,\u003cbr /\u003eagua turbia, agua estancada,\u003cbr /\u003ecambio mi vida y mi alma\u003cbr /\u003epor morir en su morada.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112032012593257616?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112032012593257616/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112032012593257616\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112032012593257616"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112032012593257616"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/la-luna-y-yo.html","title":"LA LUNA Y YO"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112032003192303004"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-02T18:00:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:01:18.903+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"DE QUÉ ME SIRVE UN POEMA"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Punzante espada... infierno,\u003cbr /\u003ehúmedo fuego y letargo,\u003cbr /\u003emi corazón es invierno\u003cbr /\u003eteñido de rojo amargo.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eSi un sable en su cuerpo helado\u003cbr /\u003eno le permite latir,\u003cbr /\u003equé corazón constipado\u003cbr /\u003epuede en el hielo vivir.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eAquél que ha visto un puñal\u003cbr /\u003ebien sabe lo que es un sable,\u003cbr /\u003einterminable final\u003cbr /\u003ede un final interminable.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eDe qué me sirve un poema,\u003cbr /\u003esi mañana tengo frío.\u003cbr /\u003eSi no se acaba el problema,\u003cbr /\u003ede qué me sirve el estío.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eCuando la razón reclama\u003cbr /\u003eun atisbo de cordura,\u003cbr /\u003equién no ha llorado en su cama\u003cbr /\u003euna noche, noche oscura;\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003elágrimas que a veces riegan\u003cbr /\u003eal amor en el camino,\u003cbr /\u003elágrimas que amores niegan\u003cbr /\u003emientras ríe tu destino.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eLágrimas sin un porqué,\u003cbr /\u003eun dolor que no se calma,\u003cbr /\u003equé me duele, no lo sé,\u003cbr /\u003esólo sé que tengo alma.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eMi corazón  está muerto,\u003cbr /\u003eno me duele el corazón,\u003cbr /\u003ey en mi cuerpo aún no acierto\u003cbr /\u003ea encontrar la solución,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003equé me duele, no lo sé,\u003cbr /\u003esólo sé que tengo alma,\u003cbr /\u003elágrimas sin un porqué\u003cbr /\u003ey un dolor que no se calma.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112032003192303004?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112032003192303004/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112032003192303004\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"1 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112032003192303004"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112032003192303004"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/de-qu-me-sirve-un-poema.html","title":"DE QUÉ ME SIRVE UN POEMA"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"1"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112031997487816119"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-02T17:59:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:01:55.563+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"NADIE"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Sueños, caballero andante,\u003cbr /\u003ecorta es la vida y vacía,\u003cbr /\u003epenas, corazón errante,\u003cbr /\u003ecorta muy corta y sombría.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eHoy mi grito desgarrado\u003cbr /\u003edesgarra el aire y el viento,\u003cbr /\u003eel silencio entrecortado\u003cbr /\u003ede su pausa es un lamento.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eParte del grito se vuelve,\u003cbr /\u003ese vuelve a llorar y llora,\u003cbr /\u003ey vuelve a gritar y envuelve\u003cbr /\u003etodo lo que no devora.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eMaldita sea mi ruina\u003cbr /\u003ey la blanca luna oscura,\u003cbr /\u003emaldita sea la espina\u003cbr /\u003eque me clava y que me cura.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eNo comprendo tu tristeza\u003cbr /\u003eluna que lloras y ríes,\u003cbr /\u003esi me gusta tu belleza,\u003cbr /\u003e¿por qué nunca me sonríes?\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112031997487816119?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112031997487816119/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112031997487816119\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112031997487816119"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112031997487816119"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/nadie.html","title":"NADIE"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112031991529325501"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-02T17:58:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-21T18:51:18.230+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"EL  VAIVÉN DE LA VIDA"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"La luna llora y se ríe, se ríe y llora la luna, y en el cielo de sus caprichosas noches una carcajada cabalga cual caballo desbocado hacia los sueños de algún pobre infeliz. Y en ese cielo en el que rara vez se aprecia el rumor apagado que una lágrima deja al caer sobre un hombre, quizá por el influjo de un sueño, quizá porque sea una verdad diseminada en el aire, dicen que también se puede leer el destino. Yo por si acaso nunca dejo de observarlo, por eso y porque es la morada de la enigmática e inconmensurable luna, morada de sus vaivenes y espejo de los nuestros.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eEl flujo de la vida, de nuestra vida, hace que a veces los sentimientos sean herméticamente cerrados en el corazón del hombre; pero el hombre no es más que sombra de una luna en carcajadas, y será en el cielo de cada ser humano donde se refleje eternamente cada sentimiento que en vano se intente esconder.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eHoy al abrir mi corazón he visto la luna, y esa luna, (que llora y ríe, que ríe y llora, que vuelve a reír y vuelve a llorar), hoy llora... y todo esto no deja de resultar curioso, porque más tarde, al mirar al cielo donde cada noche reposa mi agitada luna, esta noche había un hombre llorando, y ese hombre, ese hombre... era yo.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112031991529325501?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112031991529325501/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112031991529325501\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112031991529325501"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112031991529325501"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/el-vaivn-de-la-vida.html","title":"EL  VAIVÉN DE LA VIDA"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112031974664952490"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-02T17:55:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:03:04.766+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"LA CIUDAD"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Asfalto frío y mojado,\u003cbr /\u003epobre, luna y desamor,\u003cbr /\u003eadoquín desencajado,\u003cbr /\u003elluvia, lágrima y sudor,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ela ciudad se hace lamento\u003cbr /\u003een el triste callejón,\u003cbr /\u003enubes grises de cemento,\u003cbr /\u003ede cemento el corazón.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eDe chapa, la puerta, encumbra,\u003cbr /\u003ealma urbana sin ternura,\u003cbr /\u003econtenedor de penumbra\u003cbr /\u003ehoy nevera de basura,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ebusca lo que nadie quiere\u003cbr /\u003esin saber bien lo que busca;\u003cbr /\u003enadie que se desespere\u003cbr /\u003eserá bueno en la rebusca.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ePolución en un cigarro,\u003cbr /\u003evino claro, oscuridad,\u003cbr /\u003ela ceniza se hace barro,\u003cbr /\u003ese hace barro la ciudad:\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ehay silencio, indeferencia,\u003cbr /\u003echimeneas... y ¿qué más?,\u003cbr /\u003ede qué sirve tanta ciencia,\u003cbr /\u003esi no ayuda a los demás.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eAmanece oscuro el día,\u003cbr /\u003eno amanece en su cartón,\u003cbr /\u003ese murió mientras moría\u003cbr /\u003een la tumba de hormigón.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112031974664952490?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112031974664952490/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112031974664952490\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112031974664952490"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112031974664952490"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/la-ciudad.html","title":"LA CIUDAD"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112031967715595359"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-02T17:54:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:03:33.556+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"MI ALMA"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Lágrimas en la cama\u003cbr /\u003ede una batalla perdida,\u003cbr /\u003e\"maldito destino\", exclama,\u003cbr /\u003e\"maldita luna dormida\".\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eDel corazón, la llama,\u003cbr /\u003eprende el alma, y encendida\u003cbr /\u003epresta batalla y reclama\u003cbr /\u003ede entre la muerte la vida.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eLágrimas, desilusión,\u003cbr /\u003ey en el féretro su canto:\u003cbr /\u003e\"¿Dónde está mi corazón?,\u003cbr /\u003e¿dónde lo enterró mi llanto?,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003een la lucha soy peón\u003cbr /\u003een busca de un camposanto\".\u003cbr /\u003eJunto al latir sin canción\u003cbr /\u003ebusca mi alma su manto.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112031967715595359?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112031967715595359/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112031967715595359\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112031967715595359"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112031967715595359"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/mi-alma.html","title":"MI ALMA"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112031962407326747"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-02T17:53:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:04:33.030+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"NO QUIERO DESPERTAR"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Cuervo negro de la muerte\u003cbr /\u003ehaz la noche una vez más,\u003cbr /\u003ey no dejes que despierte\u003cbr /\u003eque no quiero despertar.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eEl silencio es poesía\u003cbr /\u003eya no hay nada que llorar,\u003cbr /\u003ealquitrán, vida sombría,\u003cbr /\u003epaso lento y sin hablar.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eDivino dolor humano\u003cbr /\u003eescondido en la ciudad,\u003cbr /\u003eamor oculto y profano\u003cbr /\u003eque en la muerte es inmortal,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003esi el silencio es poesía\u003cbr /\u003ey no hay nada de qué hablar,\u003cbr /\u003edeja que termine el día\u003cbr /\u003ecaminando hacia el final.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eCuervo negro de la muerte\u003cbr /\u003ehaz la noche una vez más,\u003cbr /\u003ey no dejes que despierte\u003cbr /\u003eque no quiero despertar.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112031962407326747?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112031962407326747/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112031962407326747\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112031962407326747"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112031962407326747"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/no-quiero-despertar.html","title":"NO QUIERO DESPERTAR"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112031959508127600"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-02T17:52:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:04:58.066+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"EL ÚLTIMO CIELO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Muere el verano, terrible verano\u003cbr /\u003ey los sueños mueren, y aunque te espere,\u003cbr /\u003e(tras un suspiro que también se muere\u003cbr /\u003eaunque te espere), yo sé que temprano,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ealgún día, quizás se vea el cielo,\u003cbr /\u003eel cielo de tus ojos que me guía,\u003cbr /\u003eese cielo que tal vez, algún día...\u003cbr /\u003eestrella de los mares y consuelo.  \u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eNiebla voraz, de desamor, espada,\u003cbr /\u003eesas nubes, aparta, del sendero,\u003cbr /\u003eno quiero nada porque nada espero,\u003cbr /\u003esólo tu cielo y sólo tu mirada.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112031959508127600?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112031959508127600/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112031959508127600\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112031959508127600"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112031959508127600"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/el-ltimo-cielo.html","title":"EL ÚLTIMO CIELO"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112031940754106937"},"published":{"$t":"2005-07-02T17:48:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:05:22.710+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"CONFUSIÓN"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Entre un rebaño de cabras,\u003cbr /\u003een luna  confusa y mente,\u003cbr /\u003eel tornar de las palabras\u003cbr /\u003ese arrastra difícilmente.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eDe otro tiempo, pensamientos,\u003cbr /\u003eo balidos entre muerte,\u003cbr /\u003eun suspiro, sentimientos;\u003cbr /\u003etodo ello para verte.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eEn el sol de mis tinieblas\u003cbr /\u003eno respira el dulce ciervo,\u003cbr /\u003eabre sus alas la niebla,\u003cbr /\u003esus alas de negro cuervo,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ey entre suspiros y hachas,\u003cbr /\u003ela procesión de los muertos,\u003cbr /\u003erecorre cual viento, rachas,\u003cbr /\u003evagos lugares inciertos.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eEn la luna de mi vida\u003cbr /\u003eya no hay vida y ya no hay luna,\u003cbr /\u003ey una lágrima perdida,\u003cbr /\u003e(la esperanza en una cuna),\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003efecunda y mi tierra nace,\u003cbr /\u003ey nace un sueño... un arroyo,\u003cbr /\u003ey llueve y el ciervo pace,\u003cbr /\u003ey el cuervo regresa al hoyo.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eY a la mañana siguiente\u003cbr /\u003esin cencerros y sin cabras,\u003cbr /\u003ete distingo entre la gente,\u003cbr /\u003ey distingo mis palabras.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112031940754106937?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112031940754106937/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112031940754106937\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112031940754106937"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112031940754106937"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/07/confusin.html","title":"CONFUSIÓN"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112016403930253557"},"published":{"$t":"2005-06-30T22:40:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:06:41.993+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"GLORIA"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"\u003cp class\u003d\"MsoNormal\" style\u003d\"\"\u003e\u003cspan style\u003d\"font-family:Arial;\"\u003e«¿Qué separa a la gloria de la derrota?\u003cbr /\u003eA veces sólo un pensamiento.»\u003c/span\u003e\u003c/p\u003e\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112016403930253557?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112016403930253557/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112016403930253557\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112016403930253557"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112016403930253557"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/06/gloria.html","title":"GLORIA"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112016398065026330"},"published":{"$t":"2005-06-30T22:39:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:07:06.826+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"LOS SENTIMIENTOS"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Imprimen el corazón\u003cbr /\u003epara pintar el anhelo,\u003cbr /\u003elos sentimientos son letras\u003cbr /\u003eque se elevan hasta el cielo.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eImprimen el corazón\u003cbr /\u003epara regar el pañuelo,\u003cbr /\u003elos sentimientos son letras\u003cbr /\u003eque se arrastran por  el suelo.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112016398065026330?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112016398065026330/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112016398065026330\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112016398065026330"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112016398065026330"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/06/los-sentimientos.html","title":"LOS SENTIMIENTOS"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112016392402851993"},"published":{"$t":"2005-06-30T22:38:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:07:28.560+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"HOY"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Ya no hay día, ya no hay noche,\u003cbr /\u003een la noche de mi día,\u003cbr /\u003eno hay halago ni reproche\u003cbr /\u003een el ego que me guía.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eNo hay nada que pueda hacer,\u003cbr /\u003equizá no quiera hacer nada,\u003cbr /\u003equizá quiera no querer,\u003cbr /\u003ey sin querer... tu mirada.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eSea ilusión o recuerdo,\u003cbr /\u003eo nada sea quizá,\u003cbr /\u003eme atormenta, si me acuerdo,\u003cbr /\u003ey me acuerdo que no está.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eUna mirada sincera,\u003cbr /\u003euna mirada sin prisa,\u003cbr /\u003euna mirada que quiera\u003cbr /\u003econservar una sonrisa,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003euna mirada unos ojos,\u003cbr /\u003euna luz en la tiniebla,\u003cbr /\u003euna llama en los rastrojos\u003cbr /\u003epara levantar la niebla.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112016392402851993?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112016392402851993/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112016392402851993\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112016392402851993"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112016392402851993"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/06/hoy.html","title":"HOY"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112016383865876078"},"published":{"$t":"2005-06-30T22:37:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:07:56.506+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"EL MAR"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Lágrimas, mis ojos lloran,\u003cbr /\u003ese hace charco mi pesar,\u003cbr /\u003ede la muerte se enamoran,\u003cbr /\u003emuere el charco y  nace el mar.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112016383865876078?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112016383865876078/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112016383865876078\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"1 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112016383865876078"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112016383865876078"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/06/el-mar.html","title":"EL MAR"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"1"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112016378840797542"},"published":{"$t":"2005-06-30T22:36:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2007-09-07T00:38:29.487+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"PEQUEÑO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Como la nada en el todo de un sueño\u003cbr /\u003eme siento pequeño, la vida grande\u003cbr /\u003epasa, corre y no la entiendo, pequeño,\u003cbr /\u003ecomo arena en el cosmos que se expande.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eMe siento pequeño y quiero reír\u003cbr /\u003ey no puedo, y no puedo pensar\u003cbr /\u003eni soñar, si no sé dónde cubrir\u003cbr /\u003emis sueños de lágrimas, un mar\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eque limpie mi alma y mi pobre vida\u003cbr /\u003epara no llorar, para renacer\u003cbr /\u003ey así crecer poco a poco en mi huida,\u003cbr /\u003emi triste huida, disfraz del ayer\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003emuchas veces, y tal vez del mañana;\u003cbr /\u003ela vida es un teatro que no entiendo,\u003cbr /\u003e¿cómo actuar, si la vida emana\u003cbr /\u003ey al río de la muerte va muriendo?\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112016378840797542?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112016378840797542/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112016378840797542\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112016378840797542"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112016378840797542"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/06/pequeo.html","title":"PEQUEÑO"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112016373887341791"},"published":{"$t":"2005-06-30T22:35:00.001+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:08:19.940+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"LA ESPINA"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Si el corazón me hace daño,\u003cbr /\u003eyo no quiero corazón,\u003cbr /\u003eno quiero aliento ni engaño\u003cbr /\u003eque perturbe mi razón.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eMi corazón me dolía\u003cbr /\u003ey al destierro lo arrojé,\u003cbr /\u003econ mi diestro brazo un día\u003cbr /\u003ede mi pecho lo arranqué.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eDe su coraza de espinas\u003cbr /\u003ela más fuerte no salió,\u003cbr /\u003e\"por favor, sal de estas ruinas\",\u003cbr /\u003emas la espina se quedó,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003ese quedó bien clavadita\u003cbr /\u003eencajada en mi interior,\u003cbr /\u003e\"no te muevas, espinita,\u003cbr /\u003esi te mueves, ¡qué dolor!\".\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eY qué más da, si no hay nada,\u003cbr /\u003esi se mueve o no se va,\u003cbr /\u003emaldita espina clavada,\u003cbr /\u003esi se queda... ¡qué más da!\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112016373887341791?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112016373887341791/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112016373887341791\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"1 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112016373887341791"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112016373887341791"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/06/la-espina.html","title":"LA ESPINA"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"1"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112016370122245017"},"published":{"$t":"2005-06-30T22:35:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:38:14.123+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"DORMIDO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"¿Dónde estoy?, y mis sueños ¿dónde están?,\u003cbr /\u003ehúmedos sueños de noche mojada\u003cbr /\u003ey fría, de lágrimas que se van\u003cbr /\u003eo se quedan; poema o estacada.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003e¿Dónde estoy? me pregunto, miro al suelo\u003cbr /\u003ey pienso... hielo, la noche me abruma,\u003cbr /\u003etengo frío, ya no hay sueños, es hielo\u003cbr /\u003emi pensar... hielo. Si la densa bruma\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eque me sigue y me envuelve, llena está\u003cbr /\u003ede voraces infortunios, di dónde\u003cbr /\u003epuedo encontrar calma, si aquí o allá;\u003cbr /\u003ey si es acá, y el sosiego se esconde,\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003edime dónde. Encontrarme a mi mismo,\u003cbr /\u003esaber quién soy es mi sueño perdido,\u003cbr /\u003emi sueño perdido... nada y abismo,\u003cbr /\u003eno vivo ni sueño... estoy dormido.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112016370122245017?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112016370122245017/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112016370122245017\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112016370122245017"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112016370122245017"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/06/dormido.html","title":"DORMIDO"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112016366075963788"},"published":{"$t":"2005-06-30T22:34:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:37:30.766+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"SUEÑOS"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Noches de sueños\u003cbr /\u003efrías y duras,\u003cbr /\u003ealma sincera\u003cbr /\u003ellena de púas.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eNada y abismo,\u003cbr /\u003eluz de tinieblas,\u003cbr /\u003esolo en invierno\u003cbr /\u003esin ropa tiemblas.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eSe oye una voz:\u003cbr /\u003e\"maldita vida,\u003cbr /\u003ebendita muerte,\u003cbr /\u003enoche dormida\".\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eLa luna ríe,\u003cbr /\u003eel hombre llora,\u003cbr /\u003esueña el poeta\u003cbr /\u003esueños que ignora.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112016366075963788?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112016366075963788/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112016366075963788\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112016366075963788"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112016366075963788"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/06/sueos.html","title":"SUEÑOS"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112016358698810863"},"published":{"$t":"2005-06-30T22:32:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:09:49.546+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"SE DESHIZO EL TIEMPO"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Te amo, yo, más que a mi propia vida,\u003cbr /\u003emás que la luna al sol, que el viento al mar\u003cbr /\u003ete quiero, te amo... sangra la herida\u003cbr /\u003eprofunda y dulce... quisiera calmar\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eel relatir de mi corazón muerto.\u003cbr /\u003eY sin saber, niña, por qué te adoro,\u003cbr /\u003ecomo adolescente en amor incierto\u003cbr /\u003ete adoro, te amo, te quiero y lloro.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eSin tiempo, maquiavélico compás,\u003cbr /\u003ela realidad está aquí, no hay recuerdo,\u003cbr /\u003eno hay sueños, la vida pasa y no estás,\u003cbr /\u003ey sin más la vida pasa y te pierdo.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eMi corazón de amores empapado\u003cbr /\u003eestá dormido... tictac pasatiempo\u003cbr /\u003edel olvido... tictac reloj parado,\u003cbr /\u003ela vida se fue, se deshizo el tiempo.\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112016358698810863?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112016358698810863/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112016358698810863\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"0 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112016358698810863"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112016358698810863"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/06/se-deshizo-el-tiempo.html","title":"SE DESHIZO EL TIEMPO"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"0"}},{"id":{"$t":"tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12678243.post-112016349196654265"},"published":{"$t":"2005-06-30T22:31:00.000+02:00"},"updated":{"$t":"2005-07-05T19:10:15.636+02:00"},"title":{"type":"text","$t":"COMO AYER"},"content":{"type":"html","$t":"Como ayer un pañuelo le servía\u003cbr /\u003emojado y triste, en vano, de mortaja,\u003cbr /\u003esuerte negra, blanca dama, vacía\u003cbr /\u003ey enterrada, del corazón, la caja.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eNo me encuentro, tengo frío,\u003cbr /\u003ey me busco entre mi llanto,\u003cbr /\u003eya no lloro, ya no río,\u003cbr /\u003eno me siento y me quebranto.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eLágrimas... gotitas de pensamiento.\u003cbr /\u003eY en el aire, lamento, desatino,\u003cbr /\u003emil pedazos, bocanadas de viento,\u003cbr /\u003eincansables, retoman el camino.\u003cbr /\u003e\u003cbr /\u003eViejos recuerdos del ayer lanzados\u003cbr /\u003eal viento se hacen nuevos, gritos rotos,\u003cbr /\u003enoches sin luna, de días gastados,\u003cbr /\u003ede días pasados, de sueños remotos...\u003cdiv class\u003d\"blogger-post-footer\"\u003e\u003cp\u003e(c)CMC\u003c/p\u003e\u003cimg width\u003d'1' height\u003d'1' src\u003d'https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12678243-112016349196654265?l\u003dpoemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com' alt\u003d'' /\u003e\u003c/div\u003e"},"link":[{"rel":"replies","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/feeds/112016349196654265/comments/default","title":"Enviar comentarios"},{"rel":"replies","type":"text/html","href":"https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID\u003d12678243\u0026postID\u003d112016349196654265\u0026isPopup\u003dtrue","title":"4 comentarios"},{"rel":"edit","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112016349196654265"},{"rel":"self","type":"application/atom+xml","href":"http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12678243/posts/default/112016349196654265"},{"rel":"alternate","type":"text/html","href":"http://poemasdeotrosiglo.blogspot.com/2005/06/como-ayer.html","title":"COMO AYER"}],"author":[{"name":{"$t":"Nexcor"},"uri":{"$t":"http://www.blogger.com/profile/02626526416829320742"},"email":{"$t":"noreply@blogger.com"},"gd$extendedProperty":{"xmlns$gd":"http://schemas.google.com/g/2005","name":"OpenSocialUserId","value":"15262156246916590381"}}],"thr$total":{"xmlns$thr":"http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0","$t":"4"}}]}});