<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902</id><updated>2011-12-30T10:13:36.593-05:00</updated><category term='Día a Día'/><title type='text'>Mar de Palabras</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>102</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-2228788192689619723</id><published>2011-12-30T08:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T08:15:19.898-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Día a Día'/><title type='text'>Día a día: 09:53</title><summary type='text'>
De la serie Día a Día 





Suenas, como una presencia tranquila en la mañana… música y un poco de diseño, pero siempre tus letras, que se meten en la rutina como un niño pequeño que corre por los pasillos. Conversamos y nos miramos desde adentro, vamos desgranando las horas, esperándonos…</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/2228788192689619723/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=2228788192689619723&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/2228788192689619723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/2228788192689619723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2011/12/de-la-serie-dia-dia-suenas-como-una.html' title='Día a día: 09:53'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_AKTSqzLprEc/TR-jYgGMRoI/AAAAAAAAAAw/3z9k2Olk9_0/s72-c/amor+en+reloj+de+arena.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-6483543630309190638</id><published>2011-11-27T20:56:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-27T21:03:47.524-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Día a Día'/><title type='text'>Día a Día: 9 12</title><summary type='text'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;
 
  
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</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/6483543630309190638/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=6483543630309190638&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/6483543630309190638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/6483543630309190638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2011/11/dia-dia-9-12.html' title='Día a Día: 9 12'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-8425274376687392475</id><published>2011-11-22T21:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-22T21:15:25.436-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Día a Día'/><title type='text'>Día a Día: 8:04</title><summary type='text'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;
 
  
  72
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&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;
 
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</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/8425274376687392475/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=8425274376687392475&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/8425274376687392475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/8425274376687392475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2011/11/dia-dia-804.html' title='Día a Día: 8:04'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_GZSqcbqncW8/S_P2Zw4c8hI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/gbH1-DWckD8/s72-c/desayuno01oa4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-2482292344937558213</id><published>2011-11-21T22:20:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T22:23:35.027-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Día a Día'/><title type='text'>Día a Día: 6:50</title><summary type='text'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;
 
  
  72
  1024x768
 
&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;
 
  Normal
  0
  
  
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</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/2482292344937558213/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=2482292344937558213&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/2482292344937558213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/2482292344937558213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2011/11/dia-dia-650.html' title='Día a Día: 6:50'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-6742435949646041259</id><published>2011-08-14T06:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-14T06:34:33.281-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Plenilunio</title><summary type='text'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;     Normal   0         21         false   false   false      ES-EC   X-NONE   X-NONE                                                     MicrosoftInternetExplorer4                                                   &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/6742435949646041259/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=6742435949646041259&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/6742435949646041259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/6742435949646041259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2011/08/plenilunio.html' title='Plenilunio'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-8507221726787661384</id><published>2011-03-08T21:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T21:16:15.270-05:00</updated><title type='text'>De vuelta a casa</title><summary type='text'> Para Stephi
De vuelta a casa
No se lo digas a nadie
que nadie más lo sepa
esa felicidad que dura un segundo
y que se repite
por varias horas

No se lo digas a nadie
sobre nuestros días suaves
como el algodón de la cobija
como el calor de nuestro cuarto

No se lo digas a nadie
hemos vuelto a casa
lo dice el olor de la cocina
los trastos alegremente sucios

No se lo digas a nadie
somos simplemente</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/8507221726787661384/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=8507221726787661384&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/8507221726787661384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/8507221726787661384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2011/03/de-vuelta-casa.html' title='De vuelta a casa'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-6184708918036668431</id><published>2009-11-27T11:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T12:07:48.853-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lo mejor</title><summary type='text'>Lo mejor es tu vozacariciando el agua en la ducha,mientras cuento, escondido,las rosas de tu pelo.Lo mejor son tus manosfrías en mi espalday tu risaempapando la casa.Lo mejor son tus abrazosde media noche,entre la fría madrugay el calor de nuestros sueños.Lo mejor son las mañanasde café y ladridos (pequeña vida).Y endulzarte el desayunocon mi amor.Lo mejor escada día.Juntos.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/6184708918036668431/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=6184708918036668431&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/6184708918036668431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/6184708918036668431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2009/11/lo-mejor.html' title='Lo mejor'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-4009200520384512389</id><published>2009-11-10T17:16:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T17:26:10.119-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Manto</title><summary type='text'>Una nocheapareces en mi cama:como un puñado de rosas rojas,respirando pausadomi nueva vida.Abrázame,dice entre las lineas de mis manos,entre la luz opacade madrugada.Y mi cuerpose alinea con el tuyocomo un manto.Trato de atar al reloj.Tranquiloy rogando,que no amanezcajamás...</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/4009200520384512389/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=4009200520384512389&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/4009200520384512389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/4009200520384512389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2009/11/manta.html' title='Manto'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-8762000360905436575</id><published>2009-10-01T16:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T16:02:53.767-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Grafitti</title><summary type='text'>Para StephiPresente. SiempreSiento tu presenciaen la mañana,como cálido asfaltobajo mis pies.Quiero encontrartedetrás de cada árbolde la ciudad.Espero al viento de medio día,que me lleve a tu lado.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/8762000360905436575/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=8762000360905436575&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/8762000360905436575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/8762000360905436575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2009/10/grafitti.html' title='Grafitti'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-7294396588077939983</id><published>2009-07-08T17:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T17:50:10.334-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Uku</title><summary type='text'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  Lava, cenizas, fuego, lahares. Muerte, destrucción violencia. Luego, paz, plantas, animales, vida. Así se creó el mundo, y se recrea cada día. El fuego purifica.  El agua muere, baja a Uku. Pasa por peñasco, grutas oscuras, frías. Y sale de ahí, purificada, nueva.  Uku no es el infierno. Es el lugar para las semillas, donde reposa la vida, el lugar donde el agua se renueva.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/7294396588077939983/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=7294396588077939983&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/7294396588077939983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/7294396588077939983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2009/07/uku.html' title='Uku'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fgoIczYiNuM/SlUik48wB6I/AAAAAAAAAVI/_vWMlD-tZP8/s72-c/tiempo-reloj-espiral.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-2721486113095364013</id><published>2009-07-08T15:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T15:45:45.232-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Desierto</title><summary type='text'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  Hay golpes en la vida, tan fuertes... ¡Yo no sé!  Golpes como del odio de Dios; como si ante ellos,  la resaca de todo lo sufrido  se empozara en el alma... ¡Yo no sé!  Los Heraldos NegrosCésar Vallejo  Estoy aquípara limpiar con mi bocatus heridascon saliva de lobode luna nueva  Estoy aquícompartiendo las espinasrompiendo los relojescon “si hubiera sido”  Estoy aquílanzando</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/2721486113095364013/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=2721486113095364013&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/2721486113095364013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/2721486113095364013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2009/07/desierto.html' title='Desierto'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-152370050901116202</id><published>2009-05-25T11:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T11:14:28.535-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Siempre</title><summary type='text'>Estimado Mario:Siempre quise escribir esta carta.  Es una carta postergada, atrasada. Y hoy, es un suspiro atravesado en el pecho, una carta a la ausencia. A tu ausencia.“La poesia no es de quien la escribe, si no de quien la necesita” dijo alguna vez uno de tus colegas. Nosotros (vos y yo) nos tomamos tus palabras, y a partir de ellas hemos construido “un puente indestructible”. Desde el primer </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/152370050901116202/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=152370050901116202&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/152370050901116202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/152370050901116202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2009/05/siempre.html' title='Siempre'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-8958127434322477983</id><published>2009-03-06T13:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T13:25:06.066-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Palabras desde el hogar (Finale)</title><summary type='text'>VFinaleLa felicidad tiene tu nombredetrás de cada letradetrás de cada díaque me regalasa tu lado.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/8958127434322477983/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=8958127434322477983&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/8958127434322477983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/8958127434322477983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2009/03/palabras-desde-el-hogar-finale.html' title='Palabras desde el hogar (Finale)'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-7374768622595652769</id><published>2009-03-02T08:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T08:48:13.339-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Palabras desde el hogar (Noche)</title><summary type='text'>IVNocheEn casa.El calor de tu ternura,nuestros reflejosen sol y luna.Flores en el jarróny el aroma de tu piel,dormido entre cobijas.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/7374768622595652769/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=7374768622595652769&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/7374768622595652769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/7374768622595652769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2009/03/palabras-desde-el-hogar-noche.html' title='Palabras desde el hogar (Noche)'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-3210703101197361943</id><published>2009-02-28T09:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T09:21:47.552-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Palabras desde el hogar (Tarde)</title><summary type='text'>IIITardeLa lluvia brilla sobre la ciudad,sobre el pavimentotroles vacíos.Y tu voz me convocaa volver a casay descansaren tus ojos,en los cuerpos,cada vezmás nuestros.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/3210703101197361943/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=3210703101197361943&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/3210703101197361943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/3210703101197361943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2009/02/palabras-desde-el-hogar-tarde.html' title='Palabras desde el hogar (Tarde)'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-4154883923876921670</id><published>2009-02-27T11:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T11:09:27.220-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Palabras desde el hogar (Medio Día)</title><summary type='text'>IIMedio DíaTus letras me llaman;comida, medio día,y solo una hora en el día:llegar a casa.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/4154883923876921670/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=4154883923876921670&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/4154883923876921670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/4154883923876921670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2009/02/palabras-desde-el-hogar-medio-dia.html' title='Palabras desde el hogar (Medio Día)'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-4328506001890095382</id><published>2009-02-16T15:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T16:04:48.815-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Palabras desde el Hogar (Mañana)</title><summary type='text'>IMañanaTus ojos mirándomeentre sueños.Buenos Días,café y sonrisasy tu esencia rondandotoda la casa </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/4328506001890095382/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=4328506001890095382&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/4328506001890095382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/4328506001890095382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2009/02/palabras-desde-el-hogar-manana.html' title='Palabras desde el Hogar (Mañana)'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-1023451067084065312</id><published>2009-02-02T16:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T16:58:36.684-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Piel de Serpiente</title><summary type='text'>A mi Esposa 24/01/09Eres un brillante día, una laguna de colores, un arco iris en cascada. A cada minuto la vida fluye de tus ojos hacia mi corazón. Mi motor, mi fe y mi futuro.Le has quitado el tiempo a los relojes, has llenado de rayuelas mi piel y mis manos, me has enseñado a jugar de nuevo, a mirar las hormigas, a hacer lagunitas en las playas y recorrer la ciudad en saltos. Has cambiado mi </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/1023451067084065312/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=1023451067084065312&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/1023451067084065312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/1023451067084065312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2009/02/piel-de-serpiente.html' title='Piel de Serpiente'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-2528761595588187012</id><published>2009-01-13T16:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T16:15:45.707-05:00</updated><title type='text'>2:00</title><summary type='text'>Para Stephimi esposaDescansandoentre horero y minutero,recuento la nocheenredada en nosotros.Al filo del albamiro a Diosrecordándonos,por qué estamosjuntos</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/2528761595588187012/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=2528761595588187012&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/2528761595588187012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/2528761595588187012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2009/01/200.html' title='2:00'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-6157819226636625291</id><published>2008-12-27T09:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T09:04:32.519-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Papel</title><summary type='text'>Para Stephi19/12/08Aviones infantilesque flotan felicesen el viento.Barcos inocentesque descansansobre el agua de ríos,lejanos a la ciudad.Cometas veraniegasamarradas a sus niños,para no morir,que llenan de colores el agosto de los vientos. Y en un libro rojodos corazones, de tinta y alegrías, sueños y esperanzas,amor…Escrita en Papel está,la alegría inmensade despertar cada díaa tu lado.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/6157819226636625291/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=6157819226636625291&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/6157819226636625291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/6157819226636625291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/12/papel.html' title='Papel'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-8704775556542442823</id><published>2008-12-15T15:29:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T15:42:34.447-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mi voz</title><summary type='text'>Para StephiSi no me escuchasno es que no esté a tu lado.Mi voz está en la lluviaque cae sobre el techotoda la tarde,tranquila, tiernaMi voz está en el vientoque se cuela por tu ventanay te cuentacomo va el día.Mi voz está en tus manos,que se quedaron con el calorde mi aliento,y te cuentaque cada día,aunque a veces no la escuchesyo te amo.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/8704775556542442823/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=8704775556542442823&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/8704775556542442823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/8704775556542442823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/12/mi-voz.html' title='Mi voz'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-9220655936117068461</id><published>2008-12-10T17:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T17:31:03.469-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Versos Piratas (El Nido)</title><summary type='text'>Y se queda quieta, sin brillo, sin garbo,hasta encontrar algo porque despertar,si quieres quedarte mi amante de tierra,debes darme espacio, darme amor de sustos,de sorpresas dulces, de suaves caricias,si quieres quedarte mi amante terrestredebes darme un sitio para así volar!!!La Mujer AladaXNo tendrás más límiteque el cielo.Habrá relámpagos dedulces de sorpresay caricias de viento.Tendrás solo </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/9220655936117068461/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=9220655936117068461&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/9220655936117068461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/9220655936117068461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/12/versos-piratas-el-nido.html' title='Versos Piratas (El Nido)'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-8129330928491787442</id><published>2008-12-08T17:40:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T17:47:57.735-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Versos Piratas (Tu Fuego)</title><summary type='text'>No soy la misma todos los días, eso bien lo sabes,por mis venas corre lava ardiente, que es lo único que permanece,lo demás siempre es mutable, todo cambia absurdamente,me agoto y me esmero por no perder fuerzas,pero no soy piedra, ni marmol ni sal,a veces mi hoguera, mi pira incendiaria,se acuesta en la playa para descansar.La Mujer AladaIXSé mi fuego.Alumbra las noches nuevas,calienta mis </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/8129330928491787442/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=8129330928491787442&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/8129330928491787442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/8129330928491787442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/12/versos-piratas-tu-fuego.html' title='Versos Piratas (Tu Fuego)'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-5910816863571435962</id><published>2008-12-05T14:30:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T14:38:52.126-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Versos Piratas (Quédate)</title><summary type='text'>(...) me quedo hasta que intentes con un puñal y rosas convencerme,de que esté a tu lado, de que el aliento mio es necesario,de que mis besos y gritos son bálsamo y veneno,de que mi locura cambiante sea el motor de tu vidade que te place al menos el poder verme.La Mujer AladaVIIIQuédate.Cortemos las rosas,dulce puñal.Quédate a mi lado.Recogeremos las rosas,y quitarás de mis dedoslas </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/5910816863571435962/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=5910816863571435962&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/5910816863571435962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/5910816863571435962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/12/versos-piratas-qudate.html' title='Versos Piratas (Quédate)'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-2837111324107179614</id><published>2008-12-04T17:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T17:18:27.683-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Versos Piratas (Siempre)</title><summary type='text'>No soy como las "otras", no me quedo "por siempre", (...)La Mujer AladaVIINo eres como las otras.Tus alas me han enseñado a volar,a mirar al horizontedesde arriba.No te quedes por siempre.Quédate solo hasta mañana,hasta el próximo amanecer…siempre hoy,siempre,solo hasta mañana.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/2837111324107179614/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=2837111324107179614&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/2837111324107179614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/2837111324107179614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/12/versos-piratas-siempre.html' title='Versos Piratas (Siempre)'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-7227103727462141325</id><published>2008-12-04T14:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T14:18:04.354-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Versos Piratas (El Sol)</title><summary type='text'>No soy sedentaria, mujer de raíces,de aire y de agua es que estoy hecha,cambiando de estado, cambiando de sitio,alma de gitana es la que tengo,los amores seguros no me llenan,porque empiezan a matarme,empiezo a marchitarme como débil flor.La Mujer AladaVISaldré siempre por tu oriente,para mirarte al medio díaradiante y feliz.Y me recostaré en un tus tardesde rojos intensos,para mirarte salir en </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/7227103727462141325/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=7227103727462141325&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/7227103727462141325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/7227103727462141325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/12/versos-piratas-el-sol.html' title='Versos Piratas (El Sol)'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-6440074282916111018</id><published>2008-12-04T12:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T12:15:27.854-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Versos Piratas (El Hogar)</title><summary type='text'>(...) no soy ama de casa, ni mujer sin corazón,que se guarda el suyo como si fuese pecado,hacer que lata fuerte y se confunda con algún tambor.La Mujer AladaVCuidaré nuestra casa.Mi hogar, tu corazón.Regando en las mañanastus sueños y esperanzas,con besos y café negro.Y así bailar en las noches,tomados de la mano,con el sonidode la sangreen nuestras venas.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/6440074282916111018/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=6440074282916111018&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/6440074282916111018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/6440074282916111018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/12/versos-piratas-el-hogar.html' title='Versos Piratas (El Hogar)'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-8019981432649380665</id><published>2008-12-03T11:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T12:18:17.177-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Versos Piratas (La Muerte)</title><summary type='text'>No soy ni estoy dispuesta,a esperar la muerte sin haber luchado,sin haberme arriesgado incluso a verla prontode formas distintas, (...)La Mujer AladaIVEstoy dispuestoa mirar la muerte;de frente y espaldasY el ultimo díade nuestro tiempo,sentados frente a la mesa,apostarle nuestro amory la eternidad.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/8019981432649380665/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=8019981432649380665&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/8019981432649380665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/8019981432649380665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/12/versos-piratas-la-muerte.html' title='Versos Piratas (La Muerte)'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-4290691930372253795</id><published>2008-12-02T13:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T12:17:57.354-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Versos Piratas (Los Colores)</title><summary type='text'>(...) ni a ver como aparecen arrugas en mi frente,sin al menos haberlas dibujado, con una sonrisa,o con gestos necios de ira o pesar. La Mujer AladaIIIPintaré tu caracon palabras;de risas inciertas,letras risueñase iras vagabundas,furtivas. Y esos coloresserán más,que El Tiempo.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/4290691930372253795/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=4290691930372253795&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/4290691930372253795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/4290691930372253795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/12/versos-piratas-los-colores.html' title='Versos Piratas (Los Colores)'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-1766049859178548826</id><published>2008-12-02T10:08:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T12:17:37.129-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Versos Piratas (Castillos de Arena)</title><summary type='text'>(...) no soy de las que se sientan a mirar silentescomo pasa el tiempo sin mover un hilo,ni a contar los granos de arena de mar , (…)La Mujer AladaIIContaré la arenade la luna nuevapara que hagas castillosde foso profundosdonde duermannuestros dragones.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/1766049859178548826/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=1766049859178548826&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/1766049859178548826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/1766049859178548826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/12/versos-piratas-castillos-de-arena.html' title='Versos Piratas (Castillos de Arena)'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-1651164318130352811</id><published>2008-12-02T09:50:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T12:15:40.184-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Versos Piratas (El Tiempo)</title><summary type='text'>No soy de las que esperan vivir 100 años,al menos no lejos de ti, :) (...)La Mujer AladaIViviré mil añosacampando en tu corazón.Cuando los relojes hayan muertoy nadie se acuerde de nosotrosestaré, en el fondo de una vasija,acariciando tu espalda,burlándome de Cronosy sus canas, ya enfermas.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/1651164318130352811/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=1651164318130352811&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/1651164318130352811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/1651164318130352811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/12/1000-respuestas-1.html' title='Versos Piratas (El Tiempo)'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-5242623763493060396</id><published>2008-11-14T17:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T17:33:35.564-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sirena</title><summary type='text'>Nunca quiseamarrarme al mástilpara oír tu canto.Dejé que tus palabrastus cancionesy tus manos de niñame lleven hasta el fondode dulces maresEscucho hoy la músicade tu almael eco de tu respiracióny me veo a mi mismoregresando a tiregresando a nosotrosy saltar del barcoen busca del fondo infinitode nuestros sueños…</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/5242623763493060396/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=5242623763493060396&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/5242623763493060396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/5242623763493060396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/11/sirena.html' title='Sirena'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-5872032687094793083</id><published>2008-11-14T13:47:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T14:01:19.371-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nuestro Barco</title><summary type='text'>Para StephiCon la mesa llena de mapas. Antiguos, nuevos, trastornados. La bitácora, pendiente. Navegando en un barco prestado, la brújula rota.El temporal asota. Frío, niebla, viento despiadado… la tormenta golpea mi quilla. Tomo con fuerza el timón, y me dejo guiar solo por el canto de ballenas distantes, errantes.Y tu Mi Sirena, junto a mi barco, navegando conmigo, soportando en silencio las </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/5872032687094793083/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=5872032687094793083&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/5872032687094793083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/5872032687094793083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/11/nuevo-barco.html' title='Nuestro Barco'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-2736237203337859673</id><published>2008-09-20T10:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T10:30:20.841-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Otro gran amor</title><summary type='text'>Otros temblores,otros besos,otras sensaciones,niños, canciones y juegos.Otras alegrías,el corazón siempre abierto,siempre tuyo.Otros sabores,otras noches de palabras,dichas, corridas, capturadas.Cada tiempodistinto, cada vezotro “te amo”,otra luna,otro gran amorfuerte, grande. Nuestro.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/2736237203337859673/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=2736237203337859673&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/2736237203337859673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/2736237203337859673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/09/otro-gran-amor.html' title='Otro gran amor'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-934463598711850654</id><published>2008-08-21T11:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T11:04:23.993-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nuevo Tiempo</title><summary type='text'>Para StephiFeliz 365Hacemos un nuevo tiempo,nuevo espacio;nuevas flores, café, crema y canelanuevas lágrimas tranquilassilentes.Siempre nuevas noches:pasión, miel y ternura,y tu espacioese lugar donde te encuentro cada díasiembre nueva, viva.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/934463598711850654/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=934463598711850654&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/934463598711850654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/934463598711850654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/08/nuevo-tiempo.html' title='Nuevo Tiempo'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-3780888801479776686</id><published>2008-08-06T06:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T06:24:18.213-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cada Día</title><summary type='text'>La paz y la tormenta;cada día, el peso del reloj,el tiempo sin controly la angustia de vivirsin respirar.Pero está el mar,tu cuerpo y la arena,tu voz y solo la pazde sorprendernos en mis brazoscada amanecer.La felicidad de encontrarme entre tus párpados,de ser entre nuestros dedos,contando juntos toda la arena del mar,solo con la certezade este nuevo día,infinitos…</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/3780888801479776686/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=3780888801479776686&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/3780888801479776686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/3780888801479776686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/08/cada-da.html' title='Cada Día'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-1747773595099966031</id><published>2008-07-30T15:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T15:16:48.832-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Agendas</title><summary type='text'>Si otras vecesme encuentrahuraño sin motivo,no piense que es flojeraigual puede contar conmigo.Mario BenedettiPara StephiLa Dueña de mi magiaIDos corazonesmil palabrasdichasmillones por decirTe amosnunca suficientescálidos, vitalesCalendario completoen duplicadode ternura…Y la suerte de decirsesiempre dos.2Un reloj.El infierno florido de Julio,loco, dragón furioso,no se cansa de mordersela </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/1747773595099966031/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=1747773595099966031&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/1747773595099966031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/1747773595099966031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/07/agendas.html' title='Agendas'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-6703889980200440816</id><published>2008-05-05T15:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T15:49:58.532-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ulises</title><summary type='text'>Años de viajessolitarios.Mis marinerosse escondierontras el ojo de algún cíclope ingenuo.Mi barco,atravesando un marsin viento,yo contando los cantosde ballenas nómadas.Anclado a tierracon las velas desplegadas,conforme,olvidando remar.En ItacaPenélope esperacon sus besos,manta calientesu aroma guíala brújula perdida;su cuerpo, vientode mi barcocon nuevas velas.Solo quiero volver,cambiar el mar </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/6703889980200440816/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=6703889980200440816&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/6703889980200440816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/6703889980200440816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/05/ulises.html' title='Ulises'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-4408096784937667462</id><published>2008-04-28T14:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T14:47:02.318-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mi mente</title><summary type='text'>Sonidos.Palabras repetidashasta que las letras se rompan.Palabras escritassobre papel gastadoy viejo.Olor a polvo añejo,sótano lleno,mil visitado,mal ordenado.Y pesos ajenos,cargados por la voluntadde la costubre.Llega el momentode sacudir el polvo.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/4408096784937667462/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=4408096784937667462&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/4408096784937667462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/4408096784937667462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/04/mi-mente.html' title='Mi mente'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-3770310816612450675</id><published>2008-03-25T13:04:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T13:06:02.471-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Palabras y Café</title><summary type='text'>Entre palabraste miro. FlotasPerfume sin tiemponi reglas.Entre capuchinos...el café adoba el espaciosimple, tierno.IntensoNoche tranquila entre tus brazosyo solo mirotu cuerpo detenidoluego de muchas batallas.Junto al mío.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/3770310816612450675/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=3770310816612450675&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/3770310816612450675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/3770310816612450675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/03/palabras-y-caf.html' title='Palabras y Café'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-5681744143578845239</id><published>2008-02-05T10:58:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T12:49:03.040-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Viaje 3</title><summary type='text'>Escucho tu ligero suspiroescudriñar mi cuerpojadeo y te miromorir entre la luna</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/5681744143578845239/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=5681744143578845239&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/5681744143578845239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/5681744143578845239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/02/viaje-3.html' title='Viaje 3'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-2120826106118576787</id><published>2008-01-27T19:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T12:52:08.794-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mientras Dormimos</title><summary type='text'>Para StephiSoloo a tu ladodescanso tu descanso y nos soñamosjuntoseternoscuidando desveloscurando pesadillasdormimos juntoscada díahamaca del vientolluvia que arrullacomo una almohadao un títere azulnos encontramosamanecemos</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/2120826106118576787/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=2120826106118576787&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/2120826106118576787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/2120826106118576787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/01/mientras-dormimos.html' title='Mientras Dormimos'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-2605404752547074466</id><published>2008-01-22T16:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T16:57:44.010-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Distinto</title><summary type='text'>Para Stephi5 veces graciasHacemos otro tiempootro espaciovida paralelaotras florescafé crema y canelaotras lágrimas tranquilassilentesotras nochespasión miel y ternuray tu espacioese lugar donde te encuentrodesnuda tendida rendidaotros tembloresotros besosotras sensacionesniños canciones y juegosotras alegríascorazón siempre abiertosiempre tuyootros saboresotras tardes de palabrasdichas corridas </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/2605404752547074466/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=2605404752547074466&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/2605404752547074466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/2605404752547074466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2008/01/distinto.html' title='Distinto'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-7344955681506159162</id><published>2007-10-15T12:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T12:54:44.358-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Viaje 2 (Rayuela)</title><summary type='text'>Casa de sueños, juego con tu mirada a la rayuela, que salta y ríe, llora y muere...cruzo todas las líneas  pierdo y me pierdo feliz</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/7344955681506159162/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=7344955681506159162&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/7344955681506159162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/7344955681506159162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2007/10/viaje-2-rayuela.html' title='Viaje 2 (Rayuela)'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-4388286376622117339</id><published>2007-10-15T12:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T12:53:31.596-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Viaje (1)</title><summary type='text'>Tu cuerpo.  Presencia, esencia, dulce juego,mi condena:ganar.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/4388286376622117339/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=4388286376622117339&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/4388286376622117339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/4388286376622117339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2007/10/viaje-1.html' title='Viaje (1)'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-7133247041761324259</id><published>2007-09-27T14:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T15:03:47.018-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pros y Contras</title><summary type='text'>Para Stephimi todoesa soledad de dosque es el amor...Mario Benedettiprofundo prodigionuestro amor…contra los rezagos de otros díascontra pequeñas dagasque contra tu almalanzo al airecontra el viento pasadoque pasa cercacontra nuestras vidascontra la muerteque nos roza los talonesprometiendo llegarprometemos corrermás rápido que ellacontra tus dudascontra tus pasadosy nuestra soledadesque unen y </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/7133247041761324259/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=7133247041761324259&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/7133247041761324259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/7133247041761324259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2007/09/pros-y-contras.html' title='Pros y Contras'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-5297632970534926200</id><published>2007-09-19T06:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T13:04:24.229-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nuestra Ciudad</title><summary type='text'>Para StephiCaminamos entre la ciudad. Nadie nos mira, somos invisibles entre los autos, las sombras, las luces amarillas.Nadie nos nota. Nacemos y morimos en cada pasa, rompiendo el frío y el asfalto. Nadie nos mira contando las pisadas, multiplicando el tiempo, cerrando los bares, detonando relojes.Nadie escucha tus canciones y mis miradas, reinventando un espacio nuevo, en nuestro mundo de </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/5297632970534926200/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=5297632970534926200&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/5297632970534926200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/5297632970534926200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2007/09/nuestra-ciudad.html' title='Nuestra Ciudad'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-5956445343412156829</id><published>2007-08-29T17:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-29T17:22:10.455-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Peso</title><summary type='text'>Como vivir después?Después de tus labios de escaleradonde solo puedo subir;después de tu cadera,doble vía de silenciosDonde se guarda tu aliento?Calidohumedo, bosquescapadoo tus uñas que marcaronun mapa de tesoro postergado.Por esoando a llevarte a todas partesdulce peso entre mis brazosque solo descansan, cuando llegas a mi lado.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/5956445343412156829/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=5956445343412156829&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/5956445343412156829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/5956445343412156829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2007/08/peso.html' title='Peso'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-3209520861196497288</id><published>2007-08-28T13:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T13:29:32.620-05:00</updated><title type='text'>28 Vidas</title><summary type='text'>28 vidas esperando...esta noche servidade mantel negro,rompes la muertede cristal frío.Mi rayo de luna</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/3209520861196497288/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=3209520861196497288&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/3209520861196497288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/3209520861196497288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2007/08/28-vidas.html' title='28 Vidas'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-2471387416926707353</id><published>2007-08-25T21:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T21:23:13.132-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lámpara</title><summary type='text'>Pedí tres milagros: - Tu risa clara y desnuda,- Tus ojos castaños esquivos,- Tú.     Pedí tres deseos: - Tus labios de madrugada - Tu pecho que queda enredado en el mío - Tu cintura, que marco como camino.     Me los concedes todos mujer, los deseos, los milagros y los sueños. Destruyes los relojes y me desvuelves los segundos cansados de imaginarte, durmiendo entre mis manos.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/2471387416926707353/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=2471387416926707353&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/2471387416926707353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/2471387416926707353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2007/08/lampara.html' title='Lámpara'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-7740588010070166820</id><published>2007-08-23T06:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-23T06:48:21.446-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflejo</title><summary type='text'>Para StephiMi Milagro"que maldigansi no han probadola noche en sus brazos de sol"Alejandro FilioHay un espacio  breve, eterno, tuyo.     Hay un lugar,un suspiro, un te amo.     Hay un sueñocon tus labios,  pesadillas, nuevos recuerdos.     Espacio, lugar y sueño, en mis brazos cabes  como un reflejo.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/7740588010070166820/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=7740588010070166820&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/7740588010070166820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/7740588010070166820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2007/08/reflejo.html' title='Reflejo'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-4242519745815529139</id><published>2007-07-16T09:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T09:12:07.457-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Angeles Negros</title><summary type='text'>arden la nocheesquinas y sueñosjugando a perderolvida muere camina seduce sus cuerposen cuerpos ajenostraiciona mataamado dolordaño colateralcatedral del viento  brumas espantosleyendas rojasalas rotasausencias blancasolvido...vuelve y comienza.   </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/4242519745815529139/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=4242519745815529139&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/4242519745815529139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/4242519745815529139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2007/07/angeles-negros.html' title='Angeles Negros'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-6032881436919331919</id><published>2007-04-13T15:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T15:43:02.745-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Baúl</title><summary type='text'>Con el crudo en las bodegas volveré a buscartodo el tiempo vividoque hemos perdido sin protestarvoy a probar primero al olvido, a lo ajenovoy a pasar a retiro de un tiro al culpable de mi soledad!Donde Manda MarineroAndrés Calamaroentre el polvoy el espantotus recuerdos....en el fondo del baúlmil versos rotos caídosy empolvadosy un si pequeñitotiritando de fríoy de silencio.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/6032881436919331919/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=6032881436919331919&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/6032881436919331919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/6032881436919331919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2007/04/bal.html' title='Baúl'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-4586895730153075031</id><published>2007-03-03T22:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-03T22:49:12.467-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Génesis: Día Séptimo</title><summary type='text'>Así fueron los dos, uno a otro se hicieron y todo cuanto a ellos les rodea. Terminaron, exhaustos, y descansaron este día, de todo lo hecho. Descansaron en su piel tibia, en los ojos, fatigados de mirar, en los olores y sabores. Bendito este día en el que reposaron, sin serpiente ni manzana, sin pecado ni culpa.     Mañana todo comenzará, se reinventarán, todo nuevo, todo de nuevo. Todo. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/4586895730153075031/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=4586895730153075031&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/4586895730153075031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/4586895730153075031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2007/03/gnesis-da-sptimo.html' title='Génesis: Día Séptimo'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-7682854070434524303</id><published>2007-03-03T22:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-03T22:47:14.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Génesis: Día Sexto</title><summary type='text'>&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;  y se contaron todas estas cosas y así fue. Así    Génesis  Soda StereoDijo Él: “Serás Tierra fértil” Ella fue toda la Tierra, sus plantas y animales, bosque, árbol y hoja. Y así fue. Uno al otro se crearon, Macho y Hembra se crearon, iguales y distintos, sus cuerpos se descubrieron como nuevos mundos, hicieron el amor multiplicado, como se hace el mar</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/7682854070434524303/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=7682854070434524303&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/7682854070434524303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/7682854070434524303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2007/03/gnesis-da-sexto.html' title='Génesis: Día Sexto'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-7402779319439914079</id><published>2007-03-01T21:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T21:32:03.663-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Génesis: Día Quinto</title><summary type='text'>Hubo pueblos y países y hubo hombres con memoria claramente digo que este fue el mundo del hombre.    Génesis  Soda Stereo Dijo Ella: “Dame vida” entonces Él se hundió en Ella, que era océano, y formó peces, algas marinas y delfines de colores. Con ellos se creció y se multiplicó el deseo. Juntos vieron que era bueno. Atardeció y amaneció el día quinto.  </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/7402779319439914079/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=7402779319439914079&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/7402779319439914079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/7402779319439914079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2007/03/gnesis-da-quinto.html' title='Génesis: Día Quinto'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-638505343805934769</id><published>2007-03-01T21:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T21:30:12.796-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Génesis:Día Cuarto</title><summary type='text'>Hombre que te miras en las aguas para ver quien sos  Mírame si quieres verte porque imagen mía sos.   Ya lo hiciste: vive sólo hoy.      Génesis  Soda Stereo Dijo Él: “Serás mi sol y yo tu sombra” En el día, Ella se hacía acompañar; por la noche, menguaba a su lado. Él esperaba el plenilunio, para verla salir. Los dos se descubrieron y vieron que eso era bueno, Luna y Sol se encontraron. Amaneció</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/638505343805934769/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=638505343805934769&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/638505343805934769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/638505343805934769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2007/03/gnesisda-cuarto.html' title='Génesis:Día Cuarto'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-3212494878572048460</id><published>2007-02-27T23:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T23:52:28.539-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Génesis: Día Tercero</title><summary type='text'>   claramente digo que este fue el mundo del hombre   y así fue. Así.      Génesis  Soda Stereo  Dijo él: “Eres mi Patria”. Entonces Ella, que antes fue océano, se abrió y fue para Él camino, valle y montaña. Y así fue. Él la llamó “Tierra”, caminó sus laderas, nadó sus arenas, y juntos vieron que todo era bueno.     Dijo Ella: “Se mi semilla, siembra en Mi paraísos y frutos prohibidos” Y así fue</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/3212494878572048460/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=3212494878572048460&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/3212494878572048460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/3212494878572048460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2007/02/gnesis-da-tercero.html' title='Génesis: Día Tercero'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-6058782133146825822</id><published>2007-02-26T21:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T21:58:05.793-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Génesis: Día Segundo</title><summary type='text'>Hubo tierra, agua, sangre, flores,  todo eso y también tiempo. Génesis  Soda StereoDijo Ella: “Tu voz es como el agua”. Por eso Él dibujó su cielo en el techo; entonces fueron aguacero, humedades, mojaron sus cuerpos en deseos. Él fue lluvia, Ella océano. Y así sucedió. Se escucharon los dos amaneciendo y así atardeció el día segundo. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/6058782133146825822/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=6058782133146825822&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/6058782133146825822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/6058782133146825822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2007/02/gnesis-da-segundo.html' title='Génesis: Día Segundo'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-7070088672953620210</id><published>2007-02-26T00:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T00:25:12.683-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Génesis: Día Primero</title><summary type='text'>Cuando todo era nada,era nada el PrincipioÉl era el Principio y de la noche hizo luzfue el cielo y esto que está aquí.  GénesisSoda Stereo    Al principio era su cuerpo; obsidiana antigua. Las sombras cubrían los abismos; su leve ausencia, sus hendijas, suspiros. Las manos de él volaban sin tocarla. Se acostó a su lado y la soñó en la penumbra. Luego dijo: “eres mi luz”, los ojos de ella </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/7070088672953620210/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=7070088672953620210&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/7070088672953620210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/7070088672953620210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2007/02/cuando-todo-era-nada-era-nada-el.html' title='Génesis: Día Primero'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-5245611759156058297</id><published>2007-02-24T00:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-24T00:07:25.658-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Génesis: Prólogo</title><summary type='text'>La creación puede tener varios matices. Génesis es un ejercicio, un divertimento, un pretexto para escribir y jugar con un texto tan antiguo y leído.    La idea nace de la canción de Soda Stereo, poco conocida, concebida como bonus track del disco Confort y Música para volar. Se incluye además como paráfrasis, la letra de dicha canción.  &lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;   Empezando el domingo (al </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/5245611759156058297/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=5245611759156058297&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/5245611759156058297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/5245611759156058297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2007/02/gnesis-prlogo.html' title='Génesis: Prólogo'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-116545123018802912</id><published>2006-12-06T19:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-06T19:30:26.313-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tu fantasma</title><summary type='text'>A veces las noches sin luna son tristes. Lo hermoso es el silencio que traen. Entonces puedo escuchar mi respiración y palpar los fantasmas que duermen en mi cama.Kodamavago bajo las piedrasque pisastecomo una huella falsanoches de luna nuevaluna muertabusco entre sábanasrestos de tu cuerpo cálidohuelotocoausentotu peso me sorprendetu piel desnudalista para el sueñoliebre libre libro antiguotango</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/116545123018802912/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=116545123018802912&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/116545123018802912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/116545123018802912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2006/12/tu-fantasma.html' title='Tu fantasma'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-116415738114442743</id><published>2006-11-21T20:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-21T20:03:01.146-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nacemos muertos</title><summary type='text'>Desando caminosque no conozcodesayuno en la tardeamanezco a media nochecuento solo ovejas negras. Sueño.Quito no para de llover.Tejo con hilos de arañaescuchando a Sabina y un tequilainvoco tu nombretrato de recordar tu rostroen la huella de aliento del vidrio.El señalador en tu página blancade un libro que no escribo máshuellas en los charcosy tus ojosen las paredes húmedas.Es el invierno. Es el</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/116415738114442743/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=116415738114442743&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/116415738114442743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/116415738114442743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2006/11/nacemos-muertos.html' title='Nacemos muertos'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-116351839895292430</id><published>2006-11-14T10:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-21T19:59:34.960-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Estrella</title><summary type='text'>Fugaz...mi deseosolo alcanzóa pedirte un deseoque se estrellaen dos estrellas,tus ojos,volverte a ver.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/116351839895292430/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=116351839895292430&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/116351839895292430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/116351839895292430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2006/11/estrella.html' title='Estrella'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-116300820890580324</id><published>2006-11-08T12:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T12:50:08.940-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lobo</title><summary type='text'>A Ellapor la inspiración y las imágenes Al Cuenteropor la idea y los relatos.Unodostrescuatro segundos de taguaabro tu blusalameré tus rojas heridasdespacio...beberé de tu lechede amanteniño malcriadomiraré a través de todastus hendijasbuscaré herirteal finalle cantaremos juntosa la luna llena.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/116300820890580324/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=116300820890580324&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/116300820890580324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/116300820890580324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2006/11/lobo.html' title='Lobo'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-116022515661729751</id><published>2006-10-07T07:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-07T07:48:09.146-05:00</updated><title type='text'>La sal</title><summary type='text'>Punta Prieta, agosto 2006        Te siento huelo respiro hueles a mar gaviota cangrejo de roca mil peces grises en tus labios me estrello contra tu senos con la marea alta y salpico tu pelo mil palabras agudas tus dedos en mi boca todavía sabe a tequila el sudor de tus muslos el olor de tus lágrimas y una pizca de deseo... salado&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;¡ buena mi suerte!</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/116022515661729751/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=116022515661729751&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/116022515661729751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/116022515661729751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2006/10/la-sal.html' title='La sal'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-115507953712202627</id><published>2006-08-08T18:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T18:25:37.146-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cuatro Recuerdos</title><summary type='text'>&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;I &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;    Tu vos tranquila en el teléfono. Largas conversaciones. Fito vs Charly. Merendaba tus sonidos y silencios. Luego tu presencia, siempre ausente. Distancia y tortura. Tu cuerpo, falsa inocencia.    &lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;     II    &lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;     Caminar a tu lado. Centro de Quito, piedra, gente, arte. Ahora a tu lado, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/115507953712202627/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=115507953712202627&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/115507953712202627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/115507953712202627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2006/08/cuatro-recuerdos.html' title='Cuatro Recuerdos'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-115128143244951446</id><published>2006-06-25T19:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-25T19:23:52.470-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Zzz...</title><summary type='text'>Tengo una luna negraen noche blanca,un puñado de versos triste,paquete de recuerdos,Un arsenal de viejas armasoxidadas e inservibles,una cruz de roble,con mi nombre grabado.Una canción de Silvio,frasco lleno de tintay una pluma con dos puntas,Una pierna de paloque no me deja ir a buscarte,una ciudad,más grande.Tengo pocos amigos,y una menos,un poco de vientodel verano que se fue,y las primeras </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/115128143244951446/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=115128143244951446&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/115128143244951446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/115128143244951446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2006/06/zzz.html' title='Zzz...'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-114782260452829185</id><published>2006-05-16T18:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-16T18:36:44.540-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Domingo</title><summary type='text'>Para GabiUn árbol que mira a tu casa.Un puerta, que azotas al salir.Tus fotos, siempre sonrientes.Tu cuarto, zapato tirado en la alfombra.Tú.No maquillajes. Ni máscaras,Envuelta en domingo.Cocinas para mi,te miro, fiel esposo.Luna llena,la luz trae tu cansancio.Dormiré temprano,descansaré tu cansancio;mañana,duerme bien.(2002)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/114782260452829185/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=114782260452829185&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/114782260452829185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/114782260452829185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2006/05/domingo.html' title='Domingo'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-114600990951298069</id><published>2006-04-25T19:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-26T20:34:37.786-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mujer, Cintura de Media Luna</title><summary type='text'>Corre la cortina;la luna llena,nubes y lluvia.Batalla.&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;Corre el viento, huye.Luna galopante por las calles,amantes rabiosos, comienzan el día,mendigo dormido, puta solitaria.basura y flores,el pavimento brilla,blanco,la campana descansa,badajo suicida.Llega a tu ventana,Duermes. Sola.La luz no conoce tus fronteras;pies,muslos,caderas, cintura,(luna llena, no importa)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/114600990951298069/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=114600990951298069&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/114600990951298069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/114600990951298069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2006/04/mujer-cintura-de-media-luna.html' title='Mujer, Cintura de Media Luna'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-114496731554605175</id><published>2006-04-13T17:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T17:28:35.556-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lázaro</title><summary type='text'>He muerto tantas veces,ahogado en tu alma;el crepúsculoque dibujas con tu cuerpoestá harto de velarmehasta que llegue la nochey me entierrebajo tus versos.Lázaro ingenuo,esperando a que algún díame resucitesde entre los muertos.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/114496731554605175/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=114496731554605175&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/114496731554605175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/114496731554605175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2006/04/lzaro.html' title='Lázaro'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-114384827781198194</id><published>2006-03-31T18:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-31T18:37:57.830-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lágrimas Negras</title><summary type='text'>Lloras,lágrimas negrasflotan en mis dedos;pedazos de universosin estrellas.Lleno con ellas un vaso,e invento la luna:mi propia versión de la noche,como un tinto amargo,me las bebo¿a que sabe el amor infinitode una mujer?(2001)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/114384827781198194/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=114384827781198194&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/114384827781198194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/114384827781198194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2006/03/lgrimas-negras.html' title='Lágrimas Negras'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-114316531298431406</id><published>2006-03-23T20:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-23T20:55:13.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Rojo</title><summary type='text'>"¿En qué lugar, en dónde, a qué deshorasme dirás que te amo? Esto es urgenteporque la eternidad se nos acaba."Jaime SabinesTanto pensarte.Tengo el techo limpio,liso;luna llena,Intento blanquear el corazón,tu recuerdo, rojo,ha teñido la luna,ella no salepor miedo a mirarte,Ya ves, lo hice,volví a escribir,vuelvo,y me tiñes de rojo.Tu imagen no puede tenerotro color,que la sangre,o el atardecer. (</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/114316531298431406/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=114316531298431406&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/114316531298431406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/114316531298431406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2006/03/rojo.html' title='Rojo'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-114238537435485434</id><published>2006-03-14T20:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-15T14:00:12.170-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Piazzolla</title><summary type='text'>Desnudo en la niebla, con la ciudad ciega, mustia, te escucho desangrarte, desangrarnos. Golpe al bandoneón.Quito. El frío seco, luces tenues, piedras antiguas; no hay estaciones, solo estados. La ciudad entristece, hasta morir. Guápulo tapa la luna llena con un dedo; amantes ocultos tras la columnas, oculto el sol tras las montañas, ciudad oculta de sí misma, se descubre, sorprendiéndose.Suenas,</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/114238537435485434/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=114238537435485434&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/114238537435485434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/114238537435485434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2006/03/piazzolla.html' title='Piazzolla'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-114165930617176156</id><published>2006-03-06T10:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-06T10:37:20.606-05:00</updated><title type='text'>El Ciego</title><summary type='text'>¡Por tus ojos que nunca han mirado cambiaría yo los míos que te ven!Pablo Neruda  Crepusculario- Damitas y caballeros, buenas tardes...- Empieza la rutina del ciego. Así lo quiso Dios, que hizo que tenga la suerte de no ver el mundo. Con problemas y un bastón, subió su pie hasta tocar la primera grada de entrada al bus, saludó cordialmente con el chofer y su ayudante, una mujer con rasgos </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/114165930617176156/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=114165930617176156&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/114165930617176156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/114165930617176156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2006/03/el-ciego.html' title='El Ciego'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-114062988117737507</id><published>2006-02-22T12:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-22T12:42:59.773-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Autumn Leaves</title><summary type='text'>In memoriam M.D.El otoño se vasopla el viento suaveel viento y las hojasmis palabras caen lentamenteestán muertasellas bailancomo antiguas mariposashasta volver a caerfalling in lovegotea tu canciónsuave lloviznanostalgiasrecojo mis palabrashago una hogueracalientaesperanzasel humo subecomo en un ritualtocasaullido silenciosocontenidopost data indefinidasostenidael sonido se vacon el otoñooigo </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/114062988117737507/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=114062988117737507&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/114062988117737507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/114062988117737507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2006/02/autumn-leaves.html' title='Autumn Leaves'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-113989238669542775</id><published>2006-02-13T23:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-13T23:46:26.760-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Feliz Día Amor</title><summary type='text'>*   Este día es un altar de sueños, hecho con torres de marfil oxidado. Alto, divinomaligno.    Y las flores, para los muertos o novios, pequeños capullos o grandes orquídeas. No más mariposas, ni luna, ni chocolates. Lo nuestro es el tiempo, como si se pudiera escribir, como si pudiera ponerlo en una caja y hacerte un regalo.Tiempo el tiempo que te tome bajar de las nubes (sé que prefieres la </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/113989238669542775/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=113989238669542775&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113989238669542775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113989238669542775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2006/02/feliz-da-amor.html' title='Feliz Día Amor'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-113936722360561428</id><published>2006-02-07T21:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-08T14:23:39.940-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Delfín</title><summary type='text'>negro en tus ojos de red,donde van a morir los delfinesdescuidados,que nadan en el mar de asfaltobuscando encallarpeces que mueren ahogadosflores marchitas al borde del marsueños muertos en vasos de alcoholesperanzas dormidas en la noche de diarioperiódicos viejoshistorias falsasmanos vacíassueños rotoscalle tontassentimientos pavimentados;&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;has muerto, delfín,te ahogo </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/113936722360561428/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=113936722360561428&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113936722360561428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113936722360561428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2006/02/delfn.html' title='Delfín'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-113881499743358350</id><published>2006-02-01T12:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-01T12:31:48.040-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lágrima</title><summary type='text'>Solo,bajo la lluvia,con este olor a palabras,busco entre las lágrimas del cielouna mía,que encaje en tu mejilla.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/113881499743358350/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=113881499743358350&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113881499743358350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113881499743358350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2006/02/lgrima.html' title='Lágrima'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-113737049735687992</id><published>2006-01-15T19:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-27T13:59:09.180-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Send</title><summary type='text'>Le dolía ver el almuerzo de Leonor sin leche, sin pan. ¿No era su culpa? (...) Sobre el basurero volaban gallinazos. El horno enseñaba sus ladrillos en los ijares desconchados. &lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;Joaquín Gallegos Lara Las cruces sobre el aguaTodo planeado con anticipación. Los líderes políticos estarían ahí. El Comandante compró unos cuantos guardias, el coche bomba estaba listo. Debía </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/113737049735687992/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=113737049735687992&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113737049735687992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113737049735687992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2006/01/send.html' title='Send'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-113631163711991330</id><published>2006-01-03T13:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-04T13:02:31.990-05:00</updated><title type='text'>O+</title><summary type='text'>Medianoche.la luna llueve,sangra,sangra en blanco,inunda la ciudad;Quito en rojo.&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;¿Sangras?corre bajo tu piel,labios,ojos,lengua,humedad...manzana;te muerdo y gritas,aspiro tu jugo, dulce,rojo...labios;te muerdo, no gritas,recorro tu piel como venas.¿Miras?recorro la ciudad,calles como venas,la ciudad sangra también...rojo,tras él, pecado,¿sientes?Imagina...ciudad </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/113631163711991330/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=113631163711991330&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113631163711991330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113631163711991330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2006/01/o.html' title='O+'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-113573180495541775</id><published>2005-12-27T19:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-04T13:09:30.300-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ni En Sueños</title><summary type='text'>Woke up, fell out the beddragged a comb across my headfound my way downstairs and drank a cupand looking up I notice I was latefound my coat and grabbed my hatmade the bus in seconds flatfound my way upstairs and had a smokeand somebody spoke and I wend into a dream The Beatles A Day In The Life&lt;?xml:namespace prefix = o /&gt;Despierta, como todos los días. El calor de las cobijas, el sueño de la </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/113573180495541775/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=113573180495541775&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113573180495541775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113573180495541775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2005/12/ni-en-sueos.html' title='Ni En Sueños'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-113458589407301925</id><published>2005-12-14T13:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-14T13:44:54.086-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Reloj</title><summary type='text'>En las noches,con la pluma húmedacomo los sueños y las pesadillas,recordando entre recuerdosmiro su papelblanco...¿luna otra vez?blanco,así me recuerday me olvidamis ojos en la nochecuelgo del alambre mil ojos en el insomiosus recuerdos,gotea el relojsujetos con pinzas,gotea el almapara que el viento no los llevegotea el tiempoguardo mis recuerdoszarandeados por el vientoen la caja de músicay </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/113458589407301925/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=113458589407301925&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113458589407301925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113458589407301925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2005/12/reloj.html' title='Reloj'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-113414419956702417</id><published>2005-12-09T11:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-09T11:03:19.586-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Líquido</title><summary type='text'>Espero atraparte entre mis manos,como la lluvia, escapas siempre,caes entre mis dedoscon la humildad del agua;sonrisa líquida que busca el mar,el pelo cayendo, en cascada...El agua que escapase atasca en tus ojos.Algún día,antes del último aguacero del mundo,lograré encerrarte en mi botella,para siempre.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/113414419956702417/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=113414419956702417&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113414419956702417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113414419956702417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2005/12/lquido.html' title='Líquido'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-113354255678959257</id><published>2005-12-02T11:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T11:55:57.056-05:00</updated><title type='text'>En-Carne</title><summary type='text'>(Con el perdón del Cuenta Cuentos)...encontróse en su cama convertido en un monstruoso insectoFranz Kafka          La metamorfosisPor razones que desconozco entré. La diferencia de calor, el olor y el ambiente se sienten. La gente, el ruido de sus conversaciones, los sonidos del motor, el olor a smog, a ciudad, a trabajo, a sudor... a ganas. Una mujer entra. Eres tú. Cabello quebrado, finas manos</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/113354255678959257/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=113354255678959257&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113354255678959257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113354255678959257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2005/12/en-carne.html' title='En-Carne'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-113338537551792301</id><published>2005-11-30T16:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-30T16:16:15.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Otro</title><summary type='text'>otro tiempoel mismo vientola misma lluviael mismo fríosolo mi reflejo en el vidriodesgranando la noche en versosescucho sus cariciaslamiendo la nostalgia olvidadaausencias falsaslos ojos desiertoslas manos áridas¿donde perdí?la sangreestampida de tortugascorazónde libro viejodescuento cartas falsasletras dormidas o inventadasnotas de amigos perdidascariños náufragoslos días nacen viejosy mueren </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/113338537551792301/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=113338537551792301&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113338537551792301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113338537551792301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2005/11/otro.html' title='Otro'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-113319308496020122</id><published>2005-11-28T10:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T10:51:25.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Venus</title><summary type='text'>A una mujer imposible Vuelves. Escondida detrás de tus ojos azules, oculta detrás del mar.Venero lo único tuyo, como devoto de iglesia antigua, en el altar de los deseos absurdos. Tu rostro falso, sonriente.Sonrisa a tres cuartos, cristal líquido, casi áurea, principio y fin de la belleza imaginaria, posible solo en sueños o pesadillas.Cuerpo de fuego, ruinas de adolescencia, inocencia, demencia;</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/113319308496020122/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=113319308496020122&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113319308496020122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113319308496020122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2005/11/venus.html' title='Venus'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-113207718302862405</id><published>2005-11-15T12:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-15T12:53:03.260-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Entrevista con mi musa (Parte II)</title><summary type='text'>Otra vez se vuelve azul. Un azul profundo, como un Tango Apasionado.- Es buen trato. Pero si me quedo, conoces los riesgos.- Es que te he extrañado. Eres un mal necesario.- ¿Un mal?- Si. Tu trabajo es inspirar, y luego desparecer. Desparecer, dejándome colgado, con un puñado de textos con sabor a ron añejo. Eres un mal necesario, indispensable.La musa se levanta implacable. Se posa frente a mi. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/113207718302862405/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=113207718302862405&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113207718302862405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113207718302862405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2005/11/entrevista-con-mi-musa-parte-ii.html' title='Entrevista con mi musa (Parte II)'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-113198427097102661</id><published>2005-11-14T10:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-14T11:12:52.146-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Entrevista con mi musa (Parte I)</title><summary type='text'>Para María LuisaComo siempre, robando palabras.- Mira. Las luces.La musa se sienta en la ventana, roba un sorbo de vino y me mira, se clava en mis ojos.- De nuevo estás aquí. ¿Qué buscas?La musa sonríe, se pone un poco azul y comienza a revolotear.- Vengo a agradecerte. De verdad, esta vez fue un honor cumplir mi trabajo.Miro la ciudad, fingiendo indiferencia.- Una musa agradecida. Interesante.- </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/113198427097102661/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=113198427097102661&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113198427097102661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113198427097102661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2005/11/entrevista-con-mi-musa-parte-i.html' title='Entrevista con mi musa (Parte I)'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-113163604063751401</id><published>2005-11-10T10:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-10T10:20:40.660-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tabú</title><summary type='text'>“Estoy tranquilo, pero herido”Fito PáezAntes de indispensablesimpensablesnostalgias innecesariasincalculables;te deshojo,te deshabitocomo isla virgente destococomo canciónte desvistoy te tocoensueñossin sueñostermino tu acechodeshechocon mis manos pendientes,tranquilo,pero herido</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/113163604063751401/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=113163604063751401&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113163604063751401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113163604063751401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2005/11/tab.html' title='Tabú'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-113071758025251582</id><published>2005-10-30T19:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-30T19:13:00.270-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nada</title><summary type='text'>Nada dentro,agujero negro y profundo,oscuro,tarde infinita,un grano de arena en una baldosa,una roca en agua pura,cometa en el cielo;nube en el verano.Río en el desiertoserpiente de páramo,silencio y otra vez oscuridad.Tristeza, blues, Lee Hocker, Davis, Piazzolla…un tango se ahoga en la esperanza.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/113071758025251582/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=113071758025251582&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113071758025251582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113071758025251582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2005/10/nada.html' title='Nada'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-113037594073463680</id><published>2005-10-26T20:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-26T20:21:39.480-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Diálogos</title><summary type='text'>Para MyriamDiálogo I: Juegos de SeducciónLa seducción es un acuerdo mutuo, un juego voraz entre seductor y seducido. Un juego de fuerzas, pequeña fiesta de máscaras, dos cuerpos huyendo queriendo encontrarse; lucha de vencedores, sin banderas, sin más fronteras que la piel.Cuando la distancia es juez, la seducción cambia. Sin cómplices miradas, sin calor sumado, sin sudor compartido, quedan solos</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/113037594073463680/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=113037594073463680&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113037594073463680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113037594073463680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2005/10/dilogos.html' title='Diálogos'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-113037492161839935</id><published>2005-10-26T19:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-26T20:02:01.630-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Río</title><summary type='text'>Río,pero murmullo,bajoapresurado o triste,bebo lluviay crezco buscando tu mar.Serpenteo por tu cuerpo,besando tus playas,lamiendo las rocas,violando tus puentes,hasta que tu marme absorbe para serparte de ti;contigo.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/113037492161839935/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=113037492161839935&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113037492161839935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/113037492161839935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2005/10/ro.html' title='Río'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-112958056514252554</id><published>2005-10-17T15:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-17T15:22:45.150-05:00</updated><title type='text'>S</title><summary type='text'>Porque no estás.¿Por qué no estás?sordo sombríosilenciociego solome olvidosigo soñandosilbando cancionescitando versos ajenossiguiendo ciudades vacíassoltando versossintiendo su ausenciasonriendo con la míaseparo sentimientossereno mis ansiassimulando simple indiferenciazurciendo pedazos gastadossádico bufónsin salidasalvaje ceremonia conocidasaboreo de nuevo ausenciasiembro su siluetasopla el </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/112958056514252554/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=112958056514252554&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/112958056514252554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/112958056514252554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2005/10/s.html' title='S'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-112879705461138531</id><published>2005-10-08T13:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-11-15T12:57:45.603-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Flor de Dionisio</title><summary type='text'>Para Ruth En el día,mi princesamil veces destronada;en la noche,yegua desbordante,galopas en la ciudadcomo en estampida,cazando amores muertos,príncipes con piel de sapo.En el día,te desnudo, te toco,como una fotografía antigua,me pierdo en tu olor,recorro tu cuerpo,sigiloso;turista en tu piel,cancerbero del deseo.En la noche te rezo,diosa del fuego,virgen del pecado;mientras tus amantesse </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/112879705461138531/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=112879705461138531&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/112879705461138531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/112879705461138531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2005/10/flor-de-dionisio.html' title='Flor de Dionisio'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-112860532700892852</id><published>2005-10-06T08:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-07T10:34:28.546-05:00</updated><title type='text'>De vuelta mis palabras</title><summary type='text'>Me arrepiento de las palabras que te regaléde decisiones que sin pensarlas tomé por tide abrumadoras sombras que para ti compréhoy te desheredomi tesoro enfermoen un mar de vientosTe desheredoLos Tres Destejí en las noches cada ausenciapara rehacerlas en la mañana.Tantas veces como palabraste llevaste(¿nunca te cobraron sobrequipaje?)Palabras y papel. Soy solo esoLos sacudistecomo el polvo de tus</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/112860532700892852/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=112860532700892852&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/112860532700892852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/112860532700892852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2005/10/de-vuelta-mis-palabras.html' title='De vuelta mis palabras'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-112827951075819967</id><published>2005-10-02T13:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-26T11:09:49.816-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nuevo</title><summary type='text'>Nuevo díade nuevo amanezcoa oscurasun poco menos feliz.De nuevo Piazzollade nuevo te piensovuelvo nuevo, te extrañonueva tinta blancanuevo te quierosin verte hace tiempode nuevo te buscote encuentrode espaldas a minueva volverása mirarme a los ojossin entendermenuevo comienzoregresas, me pintas de azulde nuevo me duelesvolvemos a empezarde nuevo.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/112827951075819967/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=112827951075819967&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/112827951075819967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/112827951075819967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2005/10/nuevo.html' title='Nuevo'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-112810183193174718</id><published>2005-09-30T12:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-10-02T13:55:47.293-05:00</updated><title type='text'>El miedo a la ternura…</title><summary type='text'>Mi primer post que vale la pena (o sea el segundo) fue un poemilla que tenía atrancado en el papel. Lo escribí hace algún tiempo, a una mujer a la que amé (no es necesario decir que mucho, no se puede amar de otra forma).Lo primero que me impresionó fue, que recibí comentarios solo de mujeres (al menos al principio). Agradable, porque una mujer lo inspiró, y la visión de las mujeres siempre es </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/112810183193174718/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=112810183193174718&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/112810183193174718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/112810183193174718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2005/09/el-miedo-la-ternura.html' title='El miedo a la ternura…'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-112740367288315850</id><published>2005-09-22T10:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-22T10:44:08.136-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quito</title><summary type='text'>Cuidad,  la noche llueve fuego sin que nadie la mire;   noche,  la luna juega a perder  con las luces de neón.  Una guitarra murmura un pasillo  o gime metal pesado.  Tus piernas largas  me ven circular,  muévete despacio mi amor,  la ciudad te puede oír;  muévete despacio, amor  cada oído es un labio, que te anhela,  despacio,  suave,  no dejes que tus sueños despierten...  humedad;  la lluvia </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/112740367288315850/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=112740367288315850&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/112740367288315850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/112740367288315850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2005/09/quito.html' title='Quito'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16790902.post-112735844950018155</id><published>2005-09-21T22:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-09-21T22:15:02.313-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quito (Intro)</title><summary type='text'>Vivo en la ciudad de las iglesias y niños en las calles, de mendigos sobre las veredas y el hambre, una ciudad partida, infierno cerca del cielo, mil ciudades dentro de una. Mascarada y calor en el día; fiesta de carne, lluvia y frío en la noche.     Neones donde hubo candelabros, putas donde hubo balcones, franciscana ciudad del pecado, atravesada por asfalto, quebradas y amores.     Vivo en </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/feeds/112735844950018155/comments/default' title='Comentarios de la entrada'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=16790902&amp;postID=112735844950018155&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/112735844950018155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16790902/posts/default/112735844950018155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mardepalabras.blogspot.com/2005/09/quito-intro.html' title='Quito (Intro)'/><author><name>Freddy Alvear B.</name><uri>https://profiles.google.com/116181922263983703100</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-v8J9BobOL6o/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAAAA/S0ba31Z099Y/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
