<?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-4736958923997845888</id><updated>2012-01-21T12:37:48.195+02:00</updated><category term='vant'/><category term='vara'/><title type='text'>malika</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>113</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-8022426327983712071</id><published>2012-01-21T12:37:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T12:37:48.200+02:00</updated><title type='text'>sub aceasi patura</title><content type='html'>Ploua.Sub aceasi patura doua lumi diferite stau spate in spate.&lt;br /&gt;Ploaia numara timpul in picaturi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-8022426327983712071?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/8022426327983712071/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=8022426327983712071' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8022426327983712071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8022426327983712071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2012/01/sub-aceasi-patura.html' title='sub aceasi patura'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-5211217816742607097</id><published>2012-01-14T16:11:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2012-01-14T16:11:15.753+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Un rege mic</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp; M-am trezit intr-o camera alba.De sus pana jos.M-am asezat pe podea,cu picioarele sub mine si am privit spre tavan.Curios..deasupra se vedea cerul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; -Ce faci aici?a intrebat o voce subtire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; -Visez,m-am auzit raspunzand.M-amuitat mirata in jurul meu.Intr-un colt&amp;nbsp; statea ghemuit un copil.Pe cap purta o coroana aurie si la piept strangea o sabie lucioasa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; -Cine esti?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; -Un rege.nu vezi?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am zambit Copilul m-a privit cu ochi mari,oarecum inbufnat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; -Nu ma crezi,asa-i?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; -Ohh..te cred..ba da sigur ca te cred..doar ca-i prima oara cand intalnesc un rege&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;-Nu trebuie sa ma minti.Nu sunt copil!pot suporta adevarul.&lt;br /&gt;Am zambit ".Nu&amp;nbsp;esti copil&amp;nbsp;..esti rege..am inteles..regele cui?''&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; -al cui?Ar trebuii sa fiu al cuiva?sunt rege pur si simplu!Sunt asa mic(daca asta te face cumva sa ma consideri un copil)pentru ca am crescut intr-o camera mica.Am un pat mic,mic de tot si ..mi-a fost teama sa cresc si sa nu mai incap in camera mea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; -Bine dar ai fi pututu sa te muti intr-o camera mai mare..&lt;br /&gt;Copilul lasa capul in jos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; -Am vrut sa-l astept.Nu puteam sa plec.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; _Pe cine sa astepti?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; -Pe talal meu.Ii tremura vocea.Si-a strans sabia mai bine la piept si s-a ridicat in picioare."Nu l-ai vazut?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; -Nu..nu L-am vazut.Nu stiu de ce,dar am simtit ca raspunsul meu l-a lovit.A venit langa mine si a ingenunchiat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; -Vrei sa-l cautam impreuna?Nu pentru ca mi-ar fi frica,dar poate daca mergi cu mine il gasim mai repede.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; -Sigur ca vin.Cum este tatal tau?este sio el rege?&lt;br /&gt;Copilul a inceput sa rada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; -Nu,nu.tatal meu nu poarta coroana.Este inalt si ma ridica pe umerii lui.De acolo stelele sunt aproape.De cand a plecat privesc cerul ."Sti ce maini mari are tatal meu?Si ce voce frumoasa?'&lt;br /&gt;Nu stiam ce sa raspund.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; -Mi-e tare dor de el.Nu vreau sa cresc.Nu as vrea sa nu ma mai recunoasca atunci cand vine.&lt;br /&gt;L-am privit pe micul "rege" din fata mea.In ochii lui aparusera lacrimile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; -Nu plange!regii nu plang,regii sunt puternici!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; -Si eu sunt puternic!Atunci cand plang mai curge din dor si parca mai trece durerea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; _Stii ce cred eu?Cred ca te recunoaste oricum.I-am luat manuta mica intr-a mea."Hai sa-l cautam impreuna,vrei?Poti creste linistit intre timp!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Intr-un pat micut,un copil doarme.Are lacrimi uscate pe obraji si la piept strange o sabie lucioasa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-5211217816742607097?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/5211217816742607097/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=5211217816742607097' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/5211217816742607097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/5211217816742607097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2012/01/un-rege-mic.html' title='Un rege mic'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-3886684086935442246</id><published>2011-11-06T14:13:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-11-06T14:13:02.694+02:00</updated><title type='text'>plans</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Oare cand ne pierdem plansul de copil?Cand invata lacrimile noastre sa nu mai curga asa usor dinauntru?Probabil ca atunci cand nu mai este nimeni mai mare ca noi care sa ne mangaie pe crestet sau care sa ne stranga la piept.Nu mai simtim pe nimeni in jurul nostru capabil sa ne stranga suspinele in brate si sa ne sraute obrajii .&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Acum,ca suntem mari,am invatat sa ne manifestam durerea,nemultumirea,dezamagirea,tradarea altfel.Stim sa potrivim cuvinte,sa strigam,sa cerem,sa pedepsim,sa acuzam,sa jignim.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Doar atunci cand durerea este cu adevarat multa si adanca toate cuvintele amutesc.In jurul nostru vorbele devin neputincioase,de multe ori lovesc mai tare in sufletul deja ingenunchiat."gata,s-a dus..a murit..viata merge inainte"am auzit mai demult,intr.un moment greu."a murit pentru voi.EU am PIERDUT-O!!" imi venea sa strig!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Sunt atatia oameni cu care radem!E adevarat,ca si rasul parca este mai calculat de cand suntem mari.Si sunt atat de putini cei in fata carora putem plange.Sunt atat de putini cei a caror durere am vrea sa o strangem la piept,sau care ne.ar putea saruta obrajii sarati.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recunosc,sunt inca un copil care rade mult.Si nici plansul nu l.am uitat.sunt multe lucruri care ma fac sa plang.Doar ca plang mereu singura.Nu e nimeni sa mangaie adultul care plange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;P.S .De multe ori plang de bucurie,fericire,implinire dar si atunci tot singura.:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-3886684086935442246?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/3886684086935442246/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=3886684086935442246' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/3886684086935442246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/3886684086935442246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2011/11/plans.html' title='plans'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-392370447902099347</id><published>2011-08-14T19:20:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2011-08-15T00:51:04.923+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Nicu Alifantis - Daca tu ai disparea</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;"Daca tu ai disparea&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Intr-o noapte oarecare&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Dulcea mea,amara mea&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; As pleca nebun pe mare.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Cu un sac intreg de lut&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Si-o spinare de nuiele&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Sa te fac de la-nceput&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Cu puterea mainii mele.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://3.gvt0.com/vi/NVzlfxHSsac/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NVzlfxHSsac&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NVzlfxHSsac&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;........." Adrian Paunescu &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-392370447902099347?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/392370447902099347/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=392370447902099347' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/392370447902099347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/392370447902099347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2011/08/nicu-alifantis-daca-tu-ai-disparea.html' title='Nicu Alifantis - Daca tu ai disparea'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-6776829489555939191</id><published>2011-08-13T04:30:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2011-08-13T10:27:26.313+03:00</updated><title type='text'>senzatii</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://2.gvt0.com/vi/oMBa58QYM7Y/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oMBa58QYM7Y&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266"  src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oMBa58QYM7Y&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Gol in stomac.Intuneric.Carusel.Maini ,soapte,lumina,intuneric.Ameteala&amp;nbsp; sarut.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Luna plina.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; _unde se duc toate senzatiile cand noi nu mai suntem?&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; _de ce iubim ''ambalajele''si ignoram continutul?&lt;br /&gt;Muzica.Lacrimi aproape.Pleoape invinse de sare.muzica..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dor.gol in stomac.Copil ghemuit langa un perete alb.Invizibil.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-6776829489555939191?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/6776829489555939191/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=6776829489555939191' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6776829489555939191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6776829489555939191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2011/08/senzatii.html' title='senzatii'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-3036852387004380206</id><published>2011-08-04T23:25:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-08-04T23:25:09.113+03:00</updated><title type='text'>ca o duminica</title><content type='html'>Cateodata ma simt ca o zi de duminica.Lenesa,moale si fara termene limita.Duminica e cea mai lenesa fata a saptamanii.Ea isi bea cafeaua imbracata in pijama,stand turceste in mijlocul patului.Se rasuceste intre cearceafuri si citeste reviste colorate.Are ochii lungi de&amp;nbsp;vise si vocea ragusita de somn.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Picteaza si mananca bomboane de ciocolata.Si ,chiar daca poarta bumbac,se simte infasurata in dantela fina.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Te-a facut cineva vreodata sa te simti ca o duminica ?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-3036852387004380206?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/3036852387004380206/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=3036852387004380206' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/3036852387004380206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/3036852387004380206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2011/08/ca-o-duminica.html' title='ca o duminica'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-6609135431153064343</id><published>2011-07-29T16:53:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-07-29T16:53:49.027+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Mai frumoasa Laura Stoica</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/cXpQlp_KTEk?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="425" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-6609135431153064343?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/6609135431153064343/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=6609135431153064343' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6609135431153064343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6609135431153064343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2011/07/mai-frumoasa-laura-stoica.html' title='Mai frumoasa Laura Stoica'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/cXpQlp_KTEk/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-7919746618444586253</id><published>2011-07-25T22:56:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2011-07-25T23:00:02.123+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vara'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vant'/><title type='text'>vara are parul sarat</title><content type='html'>Vara are parul sarat si plin de nisip.Miroase a alge,cirese,pepene,trandafiri si regina noptii.Plange mult si zgomotos,cu tunete si fulgere,dar ii trece repede.Doarme putin si viseaza frumos.Vara iubeste ,promite,arunca boabe de orez si buchete albe.Alearga desculta pe nisipul ud,doarme pe plaja,prinde fluturi si culege scoici .Mananca smochine,zmeura pudica si capsuni indraznete.&lt;br /&gt;Vara are pielea maslinie si ochii cum vrea ea.Are buze moi si talpile albe.Are genunchii rotunzi si spatele ei freamata.Pantece fertil si sani rasfatati.Vara danseaza cu ielele si spune povesti.Stropeste florile cu roua ,gadila greierii pe burta si numara stele cazatoare.&lt;br /&gt;Asa e vara mea... (21.mai.2008)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E vara iar..aceasi vara din copilarie!&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Doar ca a mai crescut putin.Nu trebuie sa se mai inalte pe varfuri ...O face doar cand vrea sa fure un sarut vantului.Iar acesta,infiorat,rascoleste teii si crinii.O &amp;nbsp;leaga la &amp;nbsp;ochi cu matase moale de porumb si o poarta pe brate la mal de mare.Valurile,copiii curiosi ai marii,vin repede la picioarele ei si fug apoi rusinati innapoi,infasurati in spuma alba.Prind iar curaj,arunca cu stropi si iarasi fug spre adanc.Si vara rade ghicindu-le joaca.Vantul ii sopteste la ureche ceva si ii dezleaga ochii.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Si vara iar se ridica pe varfuri sa-l sarute.Pe semne ca i-a placut soapta lui.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-7919746618444586253?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/7919746618444586253/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=7919746618444586253' title='5 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/7919746618444586253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/7919746618444586253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/05/vara-are-parul-sarat.html' title='vara are parul sarat'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-3950348323685492195</id><published>2011-07-18T07:29:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2011-07-20T07:51:10.402+03:00</updated><title type='text'>fragment</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Isi grabise pasii printre mesele aliniate pe doua randuri.De-o parte si de alta ,cladirile tineau adapost. Soaptele celor din jur,fie ca stateau la mese sau ca-si intersectau drumul cu el,se pierdeau in intuneric.Nu le mai auzea.Nu-i mai vedea.Ramaneau in urma ca un pertete miscator.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; El ghemuit ,privind in sus catre tatal sau.Facuse ceva rau si acum astepta pedeapsa.Barbatul inalt ,aplecat deasupra lui il privea cu un zambet.Vedea imaginea unui baietel ghemuit in retina albastra.Apoi simtea mirosul tutunului,a cremei de ras si a bomboanelor mentolate.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Se lasase intunericul.Afara mirosea a vara.Umezeala zilei toride ce se sfarsea ii intra in piele.De undeva din apropiere se conturau ritmurile unei melodii orientale.&lt;br /&gt;Trebuia sa se hotarasca.Sa-i spuna tot.O sa o roage sa stea jos,sa taca si sa asculte.Iar el..va sta in picioare in fata ei&amp;nbsp; si ii va spune.Mirosii instinctiv mainile sa se convinga daca mirosul ce-l simtea in nari era adevarat sau doar in mintea lui.Dovada imbratisarilor interzise,a mangaierilor ce urmau acum a fi marturisite.Dar nu pentru iertare;mai degraba pentru eliberare.Statuse ghemuit nopti la rand,cautand cuvintele potrivite.&lt;br /&gt;....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-3950348323685492195?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/3950348323685492195/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=3950348323685492195' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/3950348323685492195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/3950348323685492195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2011/07/fragment.html' title='fragment'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-812981987844812122</id><published>2011-06-14T14:59:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T15:02:35.340+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ganduri nude</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://0.gvt0.com/vi/QJ510pL9Iiw/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QJ510pL9Iiw&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QJ510pL9Iiw&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Tac . Iar tu ..raspunzi tacerilor mele.Tacerile spun mult mai multe decat cuvintele.Cuvintele sunt doar ambalajul tacerilor ''admise''.Gandurile noastre sunt mute.Se aliniaza frumos,se scutura de ''nepotrivit'',se infasoara in cuvinte si asteapta sa fie ''eliberate''spre ceilalti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; Interesant cum esti recunoscut dupa voce.Cei apropiati te recunosc dupa prima silaba rostita.Sunt asa putini care ne-ar recunoaste dupa ganduri...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; de fapt,nici nu sunt sigura daca m-ar recunoaste cineva&amp;nbsp; :).Iar eu..eu nu stiu daca mi-as recunoaste vocea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-812981987844812122?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/812981987844812122/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=812981987844812122' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/812981987844812122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/812981987844812122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2011/06/ganduri-nude.html' title='Ganduri nude'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-8836052978765584491</id><published>2011-06-11T10:15:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-06-11T10:15:38.201+03:00</updated><title type='text'>A Fine Frenzy: Think of You</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/k59feB2MHic?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="425" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-8836052978765584491?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/8836052978765584491/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=8836052978765584491' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8836052978765584491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8836052978765584491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2011/06/fine-frenzy-think-of-you.html' title='A Fine Frenzy: Think of You'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/k59feB2MHic/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-6055813600104501395</id><published>2011-05-16T22:25:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2011-05-16T22:53:57.773+03:00</updated><title type='text'>povestile catalinei -povestea 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://2.gvt0.com/vi/_atjmaCW1jo/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_atjmaCW1jo&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_atjmaCW1jo&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;In curtea cu smochini este intodeauna vara.Vara zemoasa si rosie.Aici leaganul rade pana la cer si iapoi.In curtea asta vor fi intodeauna&amp;nbsp; patru copii intr-o casuta de folie transparenta.O casuta ce ar fi trebuit sa fie din lemn,cu o scara rotunda,cu covorase tesute la razboiul de jucarie.Dar si asa,cu pertetii ei transparenti,fixati pe scanduri,era perfecta.E adevarat,era destul de mica si ei stateau inghesuiti,pe vine,doi in fata si doi in spate.Un baiat si trei fete.Bogdan era bucatarul.Facea mancare la un aragaz-pusculita de metal.Radeau ghemuiti intr-o casuta cu numarul 6.Cand fumul din ''aragazul'' cu picioruse curbate nu a mai ascultat de bucatar,fata cea mica a inceput sa planga.Avea parul galben si rasucit si privea disperata la ceilalti.Au fost scosi rapid de acolo si spalati cu furtunul cu apa.Miroseau ''ca tiganii''(asa spunea strabunica)&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; In curtea aceea doua paturi durdulii spuneau povesti si ascultau secrete.Vita de vie rasucea carcei acri deasupra unei mese rotunde.In curtea aceea patru copii framantau vise cu nisip si apa si le rasturnau in ''cozonaci'' imperfecti.Baiatul visa o lume cu roboti si calatorii in spatiu.Catelul Petrica radea frumos din cartea colorata din care Bogdan citea in fiecare seara.Fetele aveau si ele vise.Catalina se visa printesa,isi pregatise si un nume :Gloria!Pana una alta avea cate o rochita preferata pe care o lua la piept inca de la micul dejun,si o plimba asa pana la ora somnului.Alina visa de toate si nu se putea hotari care era cel mai mare vis.Era grabita si nu suporta regulile.&lt;br /&gt;Cea mai mare dintre fete se visa doctor(doctor pe vapor!?) Le dadea in fiecare dimineata cate o tableta de vitamina C sa ramana sanatosi.Era ''mama'' tuturor.Ea facea totul cum trebuie.Alunga balaurii si monstrii de sub pat.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; In curtea aceea ardeii grasi erau indesati cu branza,zmeura radea de sub zahar si astepta cuminte in frigider.Pisicile erau spalate in ciuda vointei lor,ascunse apoi in genti de umar pana trecea pericolul.Patlagina potolea tusea,frunzele de smochin alinau amar durerile de burta.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Acolo dimineata copiii carau in curte vesela pentru micul dejun,sarind peste cele trei trepte de la intrare.(spre disperarea adultilor ).Furculitele''cu viermi" (asa le parea lor modelul incrustat pe furculite) si "cu pesti" erau la mare cautare.Catalina nu dorea niciodata sa manance si pentru asta ii zambeau&amp;nbsp; dintr-o cana doua fire de urzica drept amenintare.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Au trecut multe veri de atunci....&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Pentru Bogdan calculatoarele nu mai au de mult secrete.Creeaza lumi virtuale din cifre.Nu mai foloseste aragazul cu picioruse curbate dar a ramas un bucatar desavarsit.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Catalina..viseaza inca sa fie printesa(pana atunci multumindu-se cu statutul de zana aurie)Iubeste mancarea ,gateste din pasiune ..toate astea cand nu scrie povesti.Nu se poate hotari asupra rochitei perfecte,daca ar trebui sa fie vaporoasa,lunga, scurta,cu volane sau fara.De cele mai multe ori castiga rochia cu buline colorate.Bulinele stiu sa rada!Si obligatoriu sandale!Zanele nu poarta bocanci!!&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Alina a gasit o lume fara reguli in care poate face mai multe lucruri deodata!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Eu am ajuns medic(la vapor am renuntat) Si acum fac lucrurile asa cum trebuie,sa nu dezamagesc pe nimeni!Nu mai dau tablete de vitamina C,acum fac oamenii ,pe care boala ii imbraca in pijamale triste,sa rada.Am grija ca nimanui sa nu-i lipseasca nimic.Alung monstrii cu povesti.Indes si acum branza in ardei si visez la curtea cu smochine zemoase.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Trec rar pe strada aceea.De fapt am facut asta doar de vreo trei ori(nu mai este in drumul meu..)Am plans si mi-am promis ca voi aduce smochinii inapoi in curtea noastra,ca in jurul unei mese rotunde vor sta iarasi patru copii!Ca leaganul va rade iar pana la cer si inapoi.Le vom rade in nas urzicilor !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Vom construi o casuta cu pereti adevarati si scara rotunda in care nu va mai plange&amp;nbsp; nimeni.&lt;br /&gt;,&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-6055813600104501395?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/6055813600104501395/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=6055813600104501395' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6055813600104501395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6055813600104501395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2011/05/povestile-catalinei-povestea-2.html' title='povestile catalinei -povestea 2'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-4225333292035750904</id><published>2011-04-30T12:02:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2011-04-30T12:04:21.508+03:00</updated><title type='text'>cu talpile goale</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://3.gvt0.com/vi/1FUnPR0CMAs/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1FUnPR0CMAs&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1FUnPR0CMAs&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Mergeam pe plaja cu talpile goale.Strangeam scoici,ascultam cochilii.Printre degete curgeau castele de nisip ud.Adunam vise in brate,le tineam strans la piept,adormeam cu ele sub cap si dimineata o luam de la capat.Cu timpul visele erau multe,iar plaja devenise din ce in ce mai ingusta.Scoicile au inceput sa zgarie,nisipul disparea.Sub talpi,asfaltul ardea.Mi-am cautat pantofi.Dar aveam bratele pline de vise.Am cautat pe cineva sa ma ajute,sa-mi tina o parte dintre ele.Erau asa frumoase!Nu as fi vrut sa le pun pe jos.Au trecut cativa oameni pe langa mine dar nu au inteles ce vreau.Cand e vorba de vise nu poti cere ajutorul prin cuvinte.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Am gasit un rucsac albastru.Am inghesuit repede in el tot ce stransesem.Mi-au ramas bratele goale.Mi-am pus pantofi si mi-am tras peste rochia alba o haina lunga.Asa purtau toti ceilalti pe care ii intalneam in drumul meu pe asfalt.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Noaptea adormeam repetand regulile asfaltului,studiind harti,cautand solutii.Cei cu haine lungi au inceput sa ma aprecieze,sa ma laude.Ma integrasem perfect.Vorbeam aceasi limba ,foloseam aleleasi cuvinte.Toti ceream lucruri concrete,plateam pentru ele.Primeam rest sau ramaneam datori.De cele mai multe ori am reusit sa primesc tot ce am putut cere cu cuvinte.Invatasem sa respect termene,conditii.Eram ambitioasa,rezistenta,prindeam repede regulile jocului.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; Aveam bratele libere.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; Duceam in spate rucsacul albastru.Nimeni nu m-a intrebat ce duc in el.Aproape ca uitasem si eu de tot ce adunasem inauntru.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Doar noaptea ,cateodata,imi aminteam de visele mele.Am&amp;nbsp; incercat de cateva ori sa deschid rucsacul si sa le intind pe toate pe covor.Dar mi-a fost frica sa fac asta de una singura.As fi vrut sa i le arat cuiva,dar nimeni nu avea rabdare pana la capat.Am reusit sa scot cateva ,dar nu am ajuns niciodata sa ajung la cele mai ascunse.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; ......&lt;br /&gt;-imi place rochia ta alba!&lt;br /&gt;_de unde sti de ..Mi-am pipait haina lunga.Era inchisa bine,pana la gat,asa cum era de cand ajunsesem pe asfalt.Aproape ca uitasem si eu ca pe sub ea purtam candava o rochie alba.&lt;br /&gt;_Am vazut-o cand te plimbai pe plaja.Rucsacul albastru era al meu..dar nu prea aveam ce pune inauntru..&lt;br /&gt;Poti lasa pantofii aici.Te voi tine in brate.Am talpile mai rezistente.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-4225333292035750904?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/4225333292035750904/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=4225333292035750904' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4225333292035750904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4225333292035750904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2011/04/cu-talpile-goale.html' title='cu talpile goale'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-2973127596155712801</id><published>2011-04-22T13:35:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-04-22T13:35:39.511+03:00</updated><title type='text'>narcise galbene</title><content type='html'>- Da..zi repede..e ceva urgent?&lt;br /&gt;-..am cumparat niste narcise .galbene.&lt;br /&gt;-Bravo!hai ca vorbim cand ajung.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Curtea era plina de narcise.Albe si galbene.Sute de narcise.Cateodata,dimineata,le gaseam culcate la pamant.Cu siguranta vantul venise pe furis in patul noptii.Amandoi au privit stelele,au ras,au povestit si au adormit.Soarele i-a prins imbratisati,dar s-a facut ca nu-i vede.Avea ochii plini de roua.&lt;br /&gt;Noapte a fugit rusinata,iar vantul s-a ascuns mai sus,in copaci.Cearceaful narciselor galbene a ramas ravasit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;-Azi am cumparat narcise galbene&lt;br /&gt;-Ce dragut..cat mai e firul?&lt;br /&gt;-..habar nu am..miros asa frumos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Le miroseam minute in sir."ai nasul galben''zicea strabunica''ai grija la albine'' si radea.&lt;br /&gt;Oricat de multe rupeam nu se sfarseau niciodata.Oricine venea in curte primavara pleca cu cate un buchet mare de narcise.si lalele.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;-Mi-am cumparat niste narcise galbene!&lt;br /&gt;-tie nu-ti placeau lacramioarele?&lt;br /&gt;-Ba da.Dar inca n-au aparut..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Narcisele astea galbene apasa butonul ''repeat''al primaverii de atunci.Primavara aceea cu nasul galben.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daca as fi noapte,ai sti sa fii vant?Am privi impreuna stelele.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-2973127596155712801?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/2973127596155712801/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=2973127596155712801' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/2973127596155712801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/2973127596155712801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2011/04/narcise-galbene.html' title='narcise galbene'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-2068613765437342504</id><published>2011-04-19T10:12:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-04-19T10:12:40.472+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Catalinei -povestea 1</title><content type='html'>Azi mi-am amintit de noptile de vara cu umbre pe pereti.Fluturi,iepuri,pasari,vulpi,monstrii.Monstrii veneau intotdeauna la sfarsit.Ii goneam&amp;nbsp; repede si tu ma luai de mana,sa nu ma pierzi.Mirosea a carmol.Bogdan avea oroare de tantari.Noi ne speriam mai degraba de monstrii.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; Mai sti ca-ti pregateai "firimituri"pentru somn?Le puneai pe coltul mesei si apoi le ''transferai ''pe perna si le mangaiai dintr-o parte in cealalta pana adormeai.Uram firimiturile alea.zgariau.Mai stie cineva despre firimiturile pentru somn?&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Sti ca de cate ori aud cuvantul firimitura..eu ma gandesc la acele firimituri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.s azi o poveste foarte scurta..cu siguranta vor urma si altele.Doar eu eram responsabila de povesti!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-2068613765437342504?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/2068613765437342504/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=2068613765437342504' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/2068613765437342504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/2068613765437342504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2011/04/catalinei-povestea-1.html' title='Catalinei -povestea 1'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-5903344461148433334</id><published>2011-04-18T00:26:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T00:26:25.999+03:00</updated><title type='text'>vindecare</title><content type='html'>COPACII SE VINDECA DE IARNA PRIN FLORI.EU MA VINDEC DE ORICE PRIN CUVINTE.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-5903344461148433334?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/5903344461148433334/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=5903344461148433334' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/5903344461148433334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/5903344461148433334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2011/04/vindecare.html' title='vindecare'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-569861451169634454</id><published>2011-04-15T12:41:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2011-04-15T12:43:53.562+03:00</updated><title type='text'>magazia verde</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Nu am facut niciodata baie in mare noaptea,dar am visat de atatea ori asta incat vad razele de luna cum curg printre degetele mele.vad apa neagra,o aud.Nu am zburat niciodata deasupra lumii intinzand bratele,ca doua aripi drepte,dar am visat asta de atatea ori ,incat,stiu aproape la perfectie cand trebuie sa las bratul stang mai jos si sa-l ridic pe celalalt,stiu cand trebuie sa ma inalt,sau sa cobor mai aproape.M-am trezit de atatea ori obosita de zbor si cu fata rece de la vant..&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Nu mi-ai lasat niciodata un mesaj pe oglinda de la baie,dar ti-am raspuns in gand de atatea ori,incat e ca si cum ai fi facut-o.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Nu mi-ai spus niciodata versuri privindu-ma in ochi ,dar eu le-am auzit de atatea ori,incat stiu cand imi vine sa plang,cand ma apasa toate cuvintele undeva inauntru,cand razi,cand taci.Inghit sa treaca durerea aceea placuta,ca o inghititura de miere ,sa alunece,sa o mai simt o data.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Toate visele mele sunt ca o magazie verde plina cu lucruri de care lumea a uitat de mult.Sau ca un pod in care nimeni nu mai vrea sa urce.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Magazia aceea verde va ramane mereu acolo.inauntru e intuneric si miroase a mare.poate de la zecile de melci culesi dupa furtunile de toamna.stau ingramaditi,murdari de nisip si asteapta un val..&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Nu sunt oglinzi in magazia mea,nu sunt ceasuri,nu sunt lumini.E doar suflet.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-569861451169634454?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/569861451169634454/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=569861451169634454' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/569861451169634454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/569861451169634454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2011/04/magazia-verde.html' title='magazia verde'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-13721546023338735</id><published>2011-04-15T11:59:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-04-15T11:59:56.218+03:00</updated><title type='text'>What if - Coldplay (with lyrics)</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/cbACFMBufhk?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="425" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-13721546023338735?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/13721546023338735/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=13721546023338735' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/13721546023338735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/13721546023338735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2011/04/what-if-coldplay-with-lyrics.html' title='What if - Coldplay (with lyrics)'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/cbACFMBufhk/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-6207920313918950566</id><published>2011-04-12T00:08:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T00:08:59.346+03:00</updated><title type='text'>de sub pat</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Ploaia bate inauntru pe fereastra deschisa.Am intins mana,cu palma in sus,sa-mi ploua in palma.Ca pe o frunza mare a sufletului.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Ploaia spune povesti.Povesti cu''a fost odata'' .Ploaia bea ceai din cani mari.E molipsitoare.&lt;br /&gt;Azi am fost sa vad marea,intre doua reprize de ploaie.Imi amintesc o zi de vara din copilarie.Eram la plaja,in apa,aproape vanata de frig,cand a inceput sa ploua.Picaturi grele,reci,repezi.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Mi-e pofta de ceai.De ceaiul de menta facut de strabunica.Mi-l turna dintr-o cana in alta,de cateva ori ,sa se raceasca.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Sunt lucruri ce nu se schimba niciodata.Te nasti cu ele in suflet si le porti cu tine pana la capatul lumii.Stau acolo ascunse si ,cand te astepti mai putin ,se napustesc afara .Toate aceste senzatii ,trairi,ganduri,gusturi stau ingramadite sub pat.De acolo lumea apare ca o linie dreapta.Un scartait de usa,o perdea umflata de vant,un fosnet de hartie mototolita,poate o miscare anume a patului,un mers cunoscut..orice le poate face sa iasa.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; De cele mai multe ori privesc si eu lumea de sub pat.Acolo ma simt in siguranta.E adevarat ca locul e strimt,poate cam intuneric...dar e sigur.Nimeni nu stie ca-s acolo.Aud tot,vad destul de bine.Cateodata stau pe burta,sprijinita pe coate si privesc cum ceilalti ma cauta.E ciudat cum esti descoperit de cine te astepti mai putin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-6207920313918950566?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/6207920313918950566/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=6207920313918950566' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6207920313918950566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6207920313918950566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2011/04/de-sub-pat.html' title='de sub pat'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-6276958170497963956</id><published>2011-04-05T22:45:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-04-05T22:45:45.155+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Emeric Imre - Nebun de alb</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/EZmDzxpiiYE?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="425" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-6276958170497963956?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/6276958170497963956/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=6276958170497963956' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6276958170497963956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6276958170497963956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2011/04/emeric-imre-nebun-de-alb.html' title='Emeric Imre - Nebun de alb'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/EZmDzxpiiYE/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-1551948629502370840</id><published>2011-04-03T08:18:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2011-04-03T08:18:56.214+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ganduri catre ea</title><content type='html'>Ploua de trei zile.Marunt,incet,insistent.E rece.Ca o pictura pe o sugativa nesatula.&lt;br /&gt;Cum e sa vezi ploaia de sus?de acolo de unde pleaca ea inspre noi..Esti sus,nu?Deasupra pasarilor,deasupra norilor,deasupra..pacatelor si a ploii desigur.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Mai sti cand ieseam in ploaie,in camasi de noapte lungi si picioarele goale?Era vara..da..si mirosea a frunze si praf.De acolo vezi melcii?Sti ca dupa ploaie pornesc sa-si plimbe casele rasucite..&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Mai cobori din cand in cnd si pe la noi?Eu cred ca da..desi..Sti..eu cand ma gandesc la tine,nu ma uit in&amp;nbsp;sus ,nici in jos.De cele mai multe ori inchid ochii.Ar fi putut fi altfel!Cu totul altfel!Sunt atatea ganduri care vor sa iasa,care dau navala,care cauta cuvinte sa se nasca!Dar le tin inauntru.Nu are cine sa le auda..&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Mai si rad cateodata cand ma gandesc la tine,dar&amp;nbsp;o senzatie de rece ma cuprinde si numai rad.Recele acela final pe care inca-l simt in palma dreapta.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Pe mine ma vezi de acolo&amp;nbsp;de sus?Cu siguranta m-ai vazut crescand.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Ploua de trei zile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-1551948629502370840?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/1551948629502370840/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=1551948629502370840' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1551948629502370840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1551948629502370840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2011/04/ganduri-catre-ea.html' title='Ganduri catre ea'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-5272027207116904300</id><published>2011-02-22T14:25:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T14:25:17.214+02:00</updated><title type='text'>fragment de zi</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Oamenii "curg" in pozitie sezanda.Singuri,doi cate doi,mai multi.Cutiile de fier,ingenios "insufletite",ii transporta.Alti oameni,asezati in "rafturile"lor proprietate personala(sau nu) ii privesc prin ferestre.Unii dorm cu pilota trasa peste cap,altii scuipa sange,citesc,beau cafea,vorbesc la tlefon,toaca legume.Vecina de la 3 face sex.Sotul este plecat si nu are timp de pierdut.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Ciorile negre au impanzit copacii.Semn rau!Ciorile nu pot prevesti nimic bun!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Suna telefonul.Nu raspund.Nici nu ma uit sa vad cine este.Dincolo nu sunt telefoane.Aici sunt prea multe.Noi vorbim din ce in ce mai putin intre noi.Ce sa ne mai spunem ?le stim pe toate.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Am chef de vodka.Nu am mai baut niciodata.Nu stiu ce gust are.Ma mananca ochiul drept.ma sterg instinctiv cu mana.Am uitat ca sunt machiata...Nu-i nimic nu ma vede nimeni!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Daca-i dreptul e de bine!Sau asa ar trebui...Bine..ciorile,semn rau..deci suntemiar de la zero.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Vrei sa-mi torni o vodka?Nu-mi torn singura in pahar..am auzit ca nu se face!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Unde naiba se duc toti oamenii astia?E trecut de 11.Intotdeauna mi-am dorit sa muncesc de acasa.Asa..sa port un maieu alb...chiar daca afara sta sa ploua.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-5272027207116904300?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/5272027207116904300/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=5272027207116904300' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/5272027207116904300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/5272027207116904300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2011/02/fragment-de-zi.html' title='fragment de zi'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-4489888313891677752</id><published>2010-12-03T10:04:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-12-03T10:04:25.940+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Alexandru Andries - Cea mai frumoasa zi</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/yaUwrIyKiNk?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="425"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-4489888313891677752?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/4489888313891677752/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=4489888313891677752' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4489888313891677752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4489888313891677752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2010/12/alexandru-andries-cea-mai-frumoasa-zi.html' title='Alexandru Andries - Cea mai frumoasa zi'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/yaUwrIyKiNk/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-4346821081651829536</id><published>2010-11-08T10:15:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-11-08T10:15:24.884+02:00</updated><title type='text'>mi-e dor</title><content type='html'>Imi este dor de o lume mai blanda&lt;br /&gt;De oameni mai blanzi&lt;br /&gt;Ce stiu sa zambeasca&lt;br /&gt;Sa-si toarne dimineata cafeaua&lt;br /&gt;intr-o ceasca cu flori&lt;br /&gt;iar pe fundul cestii &lt;br /&gt;zatul s-arate vreme alba!&lt;br /&gt;Imi este dor de muzica blanda&lt;br /&gt;Suflete cantate in cuvinte moi&lt;br /&gt;Cuvinte rotunde,fara colturi&lt;br /&gt;sa alunece usor,sa nu zgarie!&lt;br /&gt;Imi este dor sa rad cu gura plina &lt;br /&gt;Sa mai primesc din cand in cand scrisori cu miez&lt;br /&gt;Nu doar cuvinte insirate sec&lt;br /&gt;in alb si negru si delete.&lt;br /&gt;Imi este dor de &amp;nbsp;tarana&lt;br /&gt;si nu de praf.&lt;br /&gt;Imi este dor de mare &lt;br /&gt;si nu de apa.&lt;br /&gt;Imi este dor de tine&lt;br /&gt;de el,si ea si toti ce m-au uitat.&lt;br /&gt;Vreau globuri invelite-n staniol,&lt;br /&gt;vreau o castana lucitoare.&lt;br /&gt;Vreau sa-mi atarn de amintiri un leagan&lt;br /&gt;si sa zbor!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imi este dor de o lume mai blanda&lt;br /&gt;De oameni care-si spun si la -nserare rugaciunea&lt;br /&gt;nu doar cand vor ceva la inceput de drum.&lt;br /&gt;Sa aruncam cu pietre stim cu totii&lt;br /&gt;Sa reprosam,sa injuram si&lt;br /&gt;sa scuipam&lt;br /&gt;Am uitat roseata obrajilor nevinovati,&lt;br /&gt;Am uitat de lacrimile nestiute,&lt;br /&gt;Stim doar de masti &lt;br /&gt;spectacole cu miza.&lt;br /&gt;si nu mai stim sa radem cum radeam&lt;br /&gt;cu ras ce zdruncina fiinta nu corzile vocale&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imi e dor de oameni,nu de lume!&lt;br /&gt;Si-am s-o stropesc cu apa pana-nvie!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-4346821081651829536?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/4346821081651829536/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=4346821081651829536' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4346821081651829536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4346821081651829536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2010/11/mi-e-dor.html' title='mi-e dor'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-4282255418920910961</id><published>2010-10-08T23:28:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2010-10-08T23:28:14.415+03:00</updated><title type='text'>taormina</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TK9-mEa5-aI/AAAAAAAAAS0/JjukGQBu_QQ/s1600/PICT1499.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TK9-mEa5-aI/AAAAAAAAAS0/JjukGQBu_QQ/s320/PICT1499.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TK9-p1-SjLI/AAAAAAAAAS4/_0t2eaAotT4/s1600/PICT1507.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TK9-p1-SjLI/AAAAAAAAAS4/_0t2eaAotT4/s320/PICT1507.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TK9-vNmF9SI/AAAAAAAAAS8/palDxoCiWCA/s1600/PICT1489.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TK9-vNmF9SI/AAAAAAAAAS8/palDxoCiWCA/s320/PICT1489.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TK9-zty2uQI/AAAAAAAAATA/i1vGQ3GmnA8/s1600/PICT1452.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TK9-zty2uQI/AAAAAAAAATA/i1vGQ3GmnA8/s320/PICT1452.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-4282255418920910961?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/4282255418920910961/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=4282255418920910961' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4282255418920910961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4282255418920910961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2010/10/taormina.html' title='taormina'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TK9-mEa5-aI/AAAAAAAAAS0/JjukGQBu_QQ/s72-c/PICT1499.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-4911363765536294824</id><published>2010-10-06T21:06:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2010-10-06T21:06:38.162+03:00</updated><title type='text'>malta</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TKy58sluotI/AAAAAAAAASE/fsb1ifMbI04/s1600/PICT0945.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TKy58sluotI/AAAAAAAAASE/fsb1ifMbI04/s320/PICT0945.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TKy6EKNkYLI/AAAAAAAAASI/GgEOGx3big0/s1600/PICT0953.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TKy6EKNkYLI/AAAAAAAAASI/GgEOGx3big0/s320/PICT0953.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TKy6F70VwHI/AAAAAAAAASM/cALfOsHSeoc/s1600/PICT0990.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TKy6F70VwHI/AAAAAAAAASM/cALfOsHSeoc/s320/PICT0990.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TKy6J1AC1dI/AAAAAAAAASQ/-U1eNDwNrwM/s1600/PICT0993.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TKy6J1AC1dI/AAAAAAAAASQ/-U1eNDwNrwM/s320/PICT0993.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TKy6RHH8LBI/AAAAAAAAASU/wnkGcIRCFlw/s1600/PICT1241.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TKy6RHH8LBI/AAAAAAAAASU/wnkGcIRCFlw/s320/PICT1241.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TKy6Ul5Z3hI/AAAAAAAAASY/GbakaQi0r10/s1600/PICT1248.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TKy6Ul5Z3hI/AAAAAAAAASY/GbakaQi0r10/s320/PICT1248.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TKy6bFJByhI/AAAAAAAAASc/_jbdtsiSBZ4/s1600/PICT1349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TKy6bFJByhI/AAAAAAAAASc/_jbdtsiSBZ4/s320/PICT1349.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TKy6j-n-WEI/AAAAAAAAASg/kkemCQxlUQ4/s1600/PICT1316.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TKy6j-n-WEI/AAAAAAAAASg/kkemCQxlUQ4/s320/PICT1316.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-4911363765536294824?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/4911363765536294824/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=4911363765536294824' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4911363765536294824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4911363765536294824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2010/10/malta.html' title='malta'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TKy58sluotI/AAAAAAAAASE/fsb1ifMbI04/s72-c/PICT0945.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-2246849610893331862</id><published>2010-07-22T12:52:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T12:52:34.730+03:00</updated><title type='text'>fragment</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Sprijinit in cot,pe coltul mesei din bucatarie visa departe.Langa el,pe musamaua verde cu frunze zimtate,tronau doua scrumiere pline ,vreo patru pahare manjite si multe faramituri.Privea in gol pe fereastra si din cand in cand,isi trecea dosul palmei pe deasupra buzei superioare indepartand sudoarea brobonita a unei zile de vara la etajul patru .&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; -Ai vazut scrumiera?&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Femeia statea in cadrul usii .Sanii ii atarnau greu,framantati si inghesuiti intr-un sutien negru.Multa carne prea alba ingramadita in cupele&amp;nbsp;subtiate ale materialului.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; -Mersi! raspunse si se repezi sa ia scrumiera intinsa .&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;A iesit din bucatarie lasand in urma ei mirosul&amp;nbsp;tutunului si privirea dusa a lui.&lt;br /&gt;De afara se auzea larma soselei.Din camera alaturata vocea femeii albe facea din cand in cand pauze apasate&amp;nbsp;( &amp;nbsp;tragea din tigara) Ii si vedea pacanitul buzelor groase,si pleoapele usor stranse.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Era o vreme cand ii saruta gura minute in sir,o cauta si in somn ,ii cauta rasuflarea si ii adulmeca ceafa dimineata.Era o vreme cand,trantit in pat,o privea cum se imbraca grabita,cum alearga de colo pana colo si cum ii tresalta carnea in urma miscarilor bruste.O privea si ii&amp;nbsp; asculta vocea care mereu intreba,raspundea ,rastalmacea..O iubea!&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Ceva se intamplase intre timp .Carnea aceea devenise prea multa,prea alba Vocea devenise tafnoasa,revendicativa,groasa,rece.Buzele numai cereau sarutari.cereau doar fum .&lt;br /&gt;Nu o mai voia.Ii era scarba de el si de gandurile lui.Ii era teama sa le recunoasca pana la capat si era ingrozit de faptul ca ea..EA nici nu realiza la ce se gandeste el.Si nici nu trecuse prea multa vreme de cand&amp;nbsp;o iubea!&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-2246849610893331862?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/2246849610893331862/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=2246849610893331862' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/2246849610893331862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/2246849610893331862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2010/07/fragment.html' title='fragment'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-4306869094552339132</id><published>2010-07-08T21:29:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2010-07-08T21:30:31.477+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TDYZNDLCAEI/AAAAAAAAAR0/qigxq4qStyw/s1600/PICT9815.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" rw="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TDYZNDLCAEI/AAAAAAAAAR0/qigxq4qStyw/s320/PICT9815.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;laleaua Ioanei&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-4306869094552339132?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/4306869094552339132/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=4306869094552339132' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4306869094552339132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4306869094552339132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2010/07/lalaeaua-ioanei.html' title=''/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TDYZNDLCAEI/AAAAAAAAAR0/qigxq4qStyw/s72-c/PICT9815.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-4914722371904505199</id><published>2010-06-22T10:26:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T10:26:31.872+03:00</updated><title type='text'>sufar ..de nuferi!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TCBiPRTNFfI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/VCoOFbbx7EE/s1600/PICT0190.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ru="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TCBiPRTNFfI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/VCoOFbbx7EE/s320/PICT0190.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TCBiWnK2RiI/AAAAAAAAARE/k0IgOsTD15U/s1600/PICT0217.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ru="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TCBiWnK2RiI/AAAAAAAAARE/k0IgOsTD15U/s320/PICT0217.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TCBidtIXKNI/AAAAAAAAARM/gLRzHhUNRCk/s1600/PICT0235.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ru="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TCBidtIXKNI/AAAAAAAAARM/gLRzHhUNRCk/s320/PICT0235.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TCBi0I5qaWI/AAAAAAAAARc/f4Dn3244BVU/s1600/PICT0297.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ru="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TCBi0I5qaWI/AAAAAAAAARc/f4Dn3244BVU/s320/PICT0297.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Ma bantuie, inca din copilarie,imaginea unui barbat iesind din apa cu un buchet de nuferi pentru o ea.Era un film rusesc,parca..daca nu ma insel ceva cu Bogumil!Asa il chema pe eroul masculin..sau asa imi amintesc.Avea barba.Secventa ce m-a marcat il reprezenta pe el cum iesea,siroind de apa,cu niste nuferi pentru o ea..cu palarie cu boruri largi.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; De atunci visez sa primesc un buchet de nuferi..fie ei si cumparati de la piata si nu smulsi direct din sufletul lacului..&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; inca nu s-a intamplat..si sufar de nuferi!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-4914722371904505199?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/4914722371904505199/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=4914722371904505199' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4914722371904505199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4914722371904505199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2010/06/sufar-de-nuferi.html' title='sufar ..de nuferi!'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/TCBiPRTNFfI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/VCoOFbbx7EE/s72-c/PICT0190.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-4696160972461400362</id><published>2010-05-19T10:24:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2010-05-19T10:24:23.552+03:00</updated><title type='text'>bani de inmormantare</title><content type='html'>absentez de ceva vreme(nu ca ar fi observat cineva ;) ) Si nu din lipsa de imaginatie sau timp.Pur si simplu din multa,prea multa lehamite de urat.Urat,aproape grotesc.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Pur si simplu sunt blocata,oripilata,scarbita de ceea ce ne inconjoara!&lt;br /&gt;Parca si ploaia ar vrea sa spele dar ,oricat ar curge,este insuficienta.&lt;br /&gt;As trage tara asta de par si as scoate-o desculta in ploaie!Sa-si spovedeasca talpile.&lt;br /&gt;I-as trage de la gat lanturile cu zale groase,i-as smulge genele inegrite si false ,unghiile mult prea lungi ,extensiile decolorate.I-as da jos tricourile mulate,pietricelele asa zis pretioase,ciorapii plasa,tocurile roz.&lt;br /&gt;As lasa-o dezbracata in ploaie sa o curete de coaja de grotesc ce o acopera.Sa stea acolo pana va simti mirosul de curat,pana isi va aminti de Eminescu.Pana isi va aminti sa vorbeasca si sa cante curat,pana va recunoaste literele trebuiesc puse in alta ordine .Pana va intelege ca ea,tara asta,nu este asa.&lt;br /&gt;Pana isi va repara gardurile cazute,pana isi va arunca gunoiul la Gunoi si nu pe geamul bolizilor de lux.Pana va pricepe ca mainile patate ale batranilor sunt batatorite de munca si ochii lor numai au lacrimi de prea multa suferinta.Ei ,asa cum au putut,mai bine sau mai rau,au construit tara asta.Cei de astazi doar o fura,ii smulg si cerceii din urechi in timp ce ea,tara,sta sa moara.Ambulanta intarzie sa vina..oamenii de astazi trec nepasatori la suferinta ei.Au buzunarit-o si acum strang bani de inmormantare.De unde? de la noi toti..&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Sa ploua mult si tare! Imi este teama insa ca nu va fi de ajuns..&lt;br /&gt;As vrea sa pot asculta muzica..dar imi e mult prea scarba.Si jale.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-4696160972461400362?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/4696160972461400362/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=4696160972461400362' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4696160972461400362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4696160972461400362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2010/05/bani-de-inmormantare.html' title='bani de inmormantare'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-6215497785175985101</id><published>2010-04-22T09:10:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2010-04-22T09:10:52.117+03:00</updated><title type='text'>albastru</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S8_oOfTpezI/AAAAAAAAAQs/EZlAHlxSZaI/s1600/PICT9683.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S8_oOfTpezI/AAAAAAAAAQs/EZlAHlxSZaI/s320/PICT9683.JPG" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S8_oVwYD8fI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/5RFnI9PlLX4/s1600/PICT9695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S8_oVwYD8fI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/5RFnI9PlLX4/s320/PICT9695.JPG" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-6215497785175985101?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/6215497785175985101/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=6215497785175985101' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6215497785175985101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6215497785175985101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2010/04/albastru.html' title='albastru'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S8_oOfTpezI/AAAAAAAAAQs/EZlAHlxSZaI/s72-c/PICT9683.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-4768915786180621395</id><published>2010-04-06T12:50:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T12:54:10.360+03:00</updated><title type='text'>primavara</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S7sDaji4-2I/AAAAAAAAAQk/0YZK2i6NFGU/s1600/PICT9540.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" nt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S7sDaji4-2I/AAAAAAAAAQk/0YZK2i6NFGU/s320/PICT9540.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S7sCjL1J1dI/AAAAAAAAAQM/yanKLFp4Ozg/s1600/PICT9545.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" nt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S7sCjL1J1dI/AAAAAAAAAQM/yanKLFp4Ozg/s320/PICT9545.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S7sC468vLuI/AAAAAAAAAQU/kuEVkjNZlLM/s1600/PICT9547.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" nt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S7sC468vLuI/AAAAAAAAAQU/kuEVkjNZlLM/s320/PICT9547.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-4768915786180621395?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/4768915786180621395/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=4768915786180621395' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4768915786180621395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4768915786180621395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2010/04/primavara.html' title='primavara'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S7sDaji4-2I/AAAAAAAAAQk/0YZK2i6NFGU/s72-c/PICT9540.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-747952478336580597</id><published>2010-02-18T22:52:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T23:11:18.838+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Carne de scoica</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S32szmvSx7I/AAAAAAAAAQE/9KyFL7YUYUc/s1600-h/PICT9110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ct="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S32szmvSx7I/AAAAAAAAAQE/9KyFL7YUYUc/s320/PICT9110.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;Carne de scoica.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Smulsa dintre palmele de calcar&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Viseaza s-ajunga la soare.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; Sange.doua picaturi.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Nisip prea mult si ud.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; Ciocul inchis duce carnea spre cer.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; Carnea viseaza lumina.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Aripile bat.Cerul e-aproape!&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; O clipa mai tarziu si carnea cade!&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; Cerul ramane departe &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; Lumina usuca bucata de carne.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Imi simt sufletul carne de scoica.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-747952478336580597?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/747952478336580597/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=747952478336580597' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/747952478336580597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/747952478336580597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2010/02/carne-de-scoica.html' title='Carne de scoica'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S32szmvSx7I/AAAAAAAAAQE/9KyFL7YUYUc/s72-c/PICT9110.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-8705183478401162229</id><published>2010-02-11T18:54:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T18:54:50.217+02:00</updated><title type='text'>lumi paralele</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Cu obrazul lipit de geamul masinii ,isi rasucea ochii in toate directiile.Caciula cu urechile lasate era roasa si murdara.Ii era mica si lasa sa se vada un par&amp;nbsp;cleios si incalcit.Isi contorsiona limba si si-o lipi de geamul aburit,descriind rotocoale ude.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Inauntrul masinii era cald.Mirosea a paine.Pe scaunul din dreapta o fata .Ochii ei priveau fix in fata,prin parbriz..Afara ningea.Des.Fata zambea.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Isi schimba obrazul,lipindu-l acum pe dreptul.Barba ''impungea''sticla deja incalzita.Se retrase apoi brusc,isi aranja geaca cu miscari rapide si verticale.Isi trase caciula mai bine peste urechi,apoi se razgandi&amp;nbsp; si si-o scoase,arucand-o pe trotuar.Se apropie din nou de geam si incepu sa-l loveasca usor cu degetul aratator.Isi lipi buzele de sticla ,turtindu-si nasul.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Zgomotul o facu sa tresara.oare ce sa fi fost?Ce frumoasa era melodia de la radio:"promit ca nu te voi uita/si daca n-ai sa fi cu mine.."Intinse mana spre geam si isi lipi palma de el.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Ningea.Alb.Un nebun dansa pe trotuar.Intr-o masina o fata oarba asculta muzica.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;''Si daca n-ai sa fii &amp;nbsp;cu mine/vei exista in viata mea/si-am sa ma rog sa-ti fie bine!''&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-8705183478401162229?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/8705183478401162229/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=8705183478401162229' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8705183478401162229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8705183478401162229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2010/02/lumi-paralele.html' title='lumi paralele'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-4947520789171698153</id><published>2010-01-31T15:18:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T15:18:00.827+02:00</updated><title type='text'>priviri</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia, &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;, serif;"&gt;Sunt priviri care cauta,priviri care simt,priviri care cer.Sunt priviri care te gasesc fara cuvinte si nu te lasa sa nu le vezi.Te patrund adanc,de fata cu toata lumea din jur,ca si cum nimeni numai conteaza.Cu sufletul bine infasurat in jurul privirii,cu rasuflarea impinsa in afara,cu inima oprita din bataie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Priviri fara nume,fara voce,fara trecut si mai mult ca sigur fara viitor.Sunt numai prezent,voluptate,miez,adanc,inima emotie&amp;nbsp; tremur.Sunt&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; numai&amp;nbsp; raspunsuri,rasuflare,dezlantuire.Sunt egoiste pana in maduva oaselor si te cer numai pentru ele.Acum,cu totul,fara motiv.Sunt indraznete,nerusinate,aluzive.Le auzi cum te cheama din multime si te intorci fix in&amp;nbsp;plinul lor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;Ramai acolo fara sa sti de ce,fara sa-ti pese de ce,fara sa vrei sa pleci.Le primesti inauntrul tau,le chemi,le implori sa mai stea.Le asteptai.Acum le primesti.Le raspunzi,le intrebi,te razgandesti,le accepti.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Sunt priviri ce vad inauntrul,sunt priviri ce gasesc ritmul corzilor sufletesti.Raman agatate de ele si se leagana impreuna.Te fac sa rosesti, sa-ti invarti o suvita&amp;nbsp; de par,sa-ti simti palmele reci si rasuflarea calda.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;Cand dispar..ramai secat,gol,plans,mut,ologit,inchis.Simti sufletul leagan gol ce scartaie amar.Toti ceilalti sunt prea multi,prea zgomotosi,prea aproape.Nu-i mai vrei,ei te vor.Ii alungi,le inchizi,ii amani,le spui ca esti plecat.inauntru!Insista un pic..nu vor sa fie refuzati.Apoi rad..si pleaca in afara.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Sunt priviri care dor cand nu-s.Privirile lui.Uui om fara nume,fara voce,fara trecut.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-4947520789171698153?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/4947520789171698153/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=4947520789171698153' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4947520789171698153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4947520789171698153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2010/01/priviri.html' title='priviri'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-5490134907651564353</id><published>2010-01-25T20:08:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T20:10:28.195+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Marea Alba</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S13d49qC8JI/AAAAAAAAAPs/bRB8r8syguo/s1600-h/PICT9020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" mt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S13d49qC8JI/AAAAAAAAAPs/bRB8r8syguo/s320/PICT9020.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S13dyplxf8I/AAAAAAAAAPk/Zyxg9kwaUJg/s1600-h/PICT9029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" mt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S13dyplxf8I/AAAAAAAAAPk/Zyxg9kwaUJg/s320/PICT9029.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S13eD_Y8PEI/AAAAAAAAAP0/DLrvWbjOzt0/s1600-h/PICT8998.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" mt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S13eD_Y8PEI/AAAAAAAAAP0/DLrvWbjOzt0/s320/PICT8998.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S13eJ-p8oII/AAAAAAAAAP8/ARVqWJd8klI/s1600-h/PICT8997.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" mt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S13eJ-p8oII/AAAAAAAAAP8/ARVqWJd8klI/s320/PICT8997.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-5490134907651564353?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/5490134907651564353/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=5490134907651564353' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/5490134907651564353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/5490134907651564353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2010/01/blog-post_25.html' title='Marea Alba'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S13d49qC8JI/AAAAAAAAAPs/bRB8r8syguo/s72-c/PICT9020.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-4763362886716383118</id><published>2010-01-24T20:27:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T20:27:13.369+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S1yQlDHQj-I/AAAAAAAAAO0/EE2d6O8_zOo/s1600-h/PICT8899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" mt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S1yQlDHQj-I/AAAAAAAAAO0/EE2d6O8_zOo/s320/PICT8899.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-4763362886716383118?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/4763362886716383118/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=4763362886716383118' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4763362886716383118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4763362886716383118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2010/01/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/S1yQlDHQj-I/AAAAAAAAAO0/EE2d6O8_zOo/s72-c/PICT8899.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-785649839978189162</id><published>2009-12-25T20:49:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T20:49:00.976+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Scrisoare catre mos Craciun</title><content type='html'>Draga Mos Craciun,&lt;br /&gt;Nu ti-am mai scris de mult..desi te-am asteptat in fiecare an.Imi era teama ca scrisul ma va da de gol,literele frumos arcuite ,randurile drepte,plisctisitor de drepte..cuvintele pompoase vor scoate la iveala adultul.&lt;br /&gt;Dar sa sti mosule alb,ca desi scriu tare frumos si nu mai trag randurile in sus si nici nu mai mananc litere,sa sti ca inca sunt un copil.Acelasi copil cu ochii mari ,rotunzi si caprui.Acelasi copil timid ce isi inghitea lacrimile de emotie cand spunea versurile special invatate pentru tine.Sti de cate ori intram in camera bradului,acolo unde era mai racoare si mirosea a portocale,sa vad daca ai venit?Sti de cate ori ma intrebam de ce porti papuci?De ce nu vedeam niciodata sania?De ce aveai mereu in sac doar darurile pentru noi..?&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Te astept de atunci in fiecare an...desi stiu ca tu n-ai sa mai vi ca atunci!O mai sti pe strabunica?ea facea cozonacul ce-ti placea atat de mult.Dar a plecat si ea..nici ei nu i-am mai scris de mult(poate am sa o fac intr-o zi).O mai sti pe sora mea?Ea iti spunea mereu ca sunt cea mai frumoasa si cea mai desteapta.Nu era niciodata geloasa pe darurile pe care le primeam eu..si isi manca mereu dulciurile prima.eu le pastram..sa am si mai tarziu..dar le imparteam apoi convinsa fiind de promisiunile ei ca imi va aduce apa rece ori de cate ori imi va fi sete si imi va citi povesti lungi!Sti,a plecat si ea.Probabil ca tu o vezi acolo unde e.e mai aproape de de tine.Probabil ca stia ea ceva cand isi manca dulciurile repede,cand dorea totul azi si nu maine.Am sa-i scriu si ei intr-o zi sa o intreb de ce m-a lasat singura ?&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Mai sti cand ne-ai gasit intr-un an la&amp;nbsp; Bucuresti?in anul acela cand nu ne-ai adus cadouri si ne-ai lasat pe noi sa le cumparam.Am luat si noi ce-am apucat..sampon,sosete..un orbit si-un creion cu guma.Restul..l-am cheltuit in scop personal..Ce-am mai ras atunci!&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Sti....anul asta nu-ti cer nimic..doar sa-mi promiti&amp;nbsp; ca ai sa mai vi intr-un an asa ca atunci!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;CRACIUN FERICIT&amp;nbsp;!&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-785649839978189162?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/785649839978189162/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=785649839978189162' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/785649839978189162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/785649839978189162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2009/12/scrisoare-catre-mos-craciun.html' title='Scrisoare catre mos Craciun'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-9047902655928944279</id><published>2009-12-15T08:57:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T08:57:20.969+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy birthday..altfel!</title><content type='html'>un baietel&amp;nbsp;de aproape 4 ani si mama lui ,la intoarcerea de la gradinita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mama: cum a fost azi?&lt;br /&gt;copilul:bine..&lt;br /&gt;m: ce ai mai facut,ai colorat?&lt;br /&gt;c:nu..azi am cantat un cantecel..o sa fie ziua la cineva si ii cantam un fel de la multi ani&lt;br /&gt;m: foarte frumos..maine?&lt;br /&gt;c: nu..nu maine..de Craciun,e ziua lui de Craciun dar nu e coleg cu noi.Nu e happy birthday!&lt;br /&gt;m: ..?!?!&lt;br /&gt;c: nu-i coleg..am uitat cum il cheama..&lt;br /&gt;m: lasa,iti amintesti!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;c: a..Jesus il cheama..e ziua lui de Craciun.Asa a zis teacher,ca s-a nascut de&amp;nbsp; Craciun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-9047902655928944279?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/9047902655928944279/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=9047902655928944279' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/9047902655928944279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/9047902655928944279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2009/12/happy-birthdayaltfel.html' title='Happy birthday..altfel!'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-2261275221501817231</id><published>2009-11-26T15:16:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T15:16:32.614+02:00</updated><title type='text'>jurnal</title><content type='html'>Erai frumos cand nu spuneai nimic.Eu iti puneam cuvinte pe buze si apoi le ascultam de sute de ori.Nu-ti stiam vocea dar mi-o imaginasem construita din t-uri lungi si e-uri dulci.Nu-ti vazusem mainile de aproape si nu-ti stiam conturul degetelor.&lt;br /&gt;Te simteam ca pe o camera calda in care intri direct de afara intr-o noapte de iarna.Imi puteam scoate cizmele ude,haina grea si fularul prea strans .Tu ma certai ca nu port caciula iar eu iti spuneam sa-ti pui sosete.Radeam amandoi iar tu-mi incalzeai genunchii in palmele tale.Mancam nuci iar eu priveam pe fereastra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; Azi te voi cunoaste in sfarsit!Am emotii.Abia astept sa-ti aud vocea .Uite ca ai venit..ma duc sa-ti deschid!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; Ai plecat..in sfarsit!Am deschis fereastra in urma ta.de fapt in urma unui barbat oarecare.Sti..avea asa o voce urata,iar mainile lui cu siguranta nu mi-ar fi recunoscut forma genunchilor.Nu stia cuvintele pe care le auzisem de atatea ori de la tine.Nici macar unul!Radea mult si se credea frumos.I-am spus sa nu mai vina!&lt;br /&gt;afara a inceput sa ninga.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-2261275221501817231?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/2261275221501817231/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=2261275221501817231' title='8 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/2261275221501817231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/2261275221501817231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2009/11/jurnal.html' title='jurnal'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-7108465583916972750</id><published>2009-11-18T21:20:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T21:20:52.218+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ma vei recunoaste</title><content type='html'>Ma vei recunoaste:&lt;br /&gt;Am inca parul ud de mare &lt;br /&gt;si buzele sarate.&lt;br /&gt;Am talpile goale &lt;br /&gt;genunchii juliti &lt;br /&gt;si umeri rotunzi.&lt;br /&gt;Ma mai ascund de ploaie sub stresini;&lt;br /&gt;mai sar intr-un picior&lt;br /&gt;si numar liliacul fara sot!&lt;br /&gt;Mai stiu sa rad ,sa plang&lt;br /&gt;Si s-aduc apa-n palme!&lt;br /&gt;Ma vei recunoaste &lt;br /&gt;Sunt acelasi copil ce-l stiai!&lt;br /&gt;Port insa deasupra adultul .&lt;br /&gt;El rade mai rar si plange pe-ascuns!&lt;br /&gt;Poarta pantofi si merge frumos.&lt;br /&gt;Nu poate sari sa nu-si rupa genunchii,&lt;br /&gt;Sa nu-si strice parul,sa nu rada lumea.&lt;br /&gt;Ai sa ma recunosti ...&lt;br /&gt;Si daca nu..voi astepta sub streasina ploaia.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-7108465583916972750?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/7108465583916972750/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=7108465583916972750' title='5 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/7108465583916972750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/7108465583916972750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2009/11/ma-vei-recunoaste.html' title='Ma vei recunoaste'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-5998370260722002050</id><published>2009-11-06T01:36:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T01:36:31.879+02:00</updated><title type='text'>destin</title><content type='html'>azi am aflat ca cineva drag are o boala...sa zicem incurabila.in urma unui control oarecum de rutina..un anume indicator a tras semnalul de alarma!vor urma desigur investigatii tintite..dar prognosticul se contureaza destul de sumbru.El nu stie..probabil doarme la ora asta.Maine se va trezi ca in oricare zi..isi va bea cafeaua..isi va fuma otrava...si isi va face planuri.Si tot asa pana va afla...&lt;br /&gt;Eu nu pot dormi.Ma gandesc cum am putea ambala adevarul..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-5998370260722002050?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/5998370260722002050/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=5998370260722002050' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/5998370260722002050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/5998370260722002050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2009/11/destin.html' title='destin'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-4650186308755900707</id><published>2009-11-05T09:21:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T09:21:07.173+02:00</updated><title type='text'>africa -cu drag</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SvJ7bZFDtMI/AAAAAAAAAOs/WH11bxc0t_Q/s1600-h/PA030144.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SvJ7bZFDtMI/AAAAAAAAAOs/WH11bxc0t_Q/s320/PA030144.JPG" vr="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-4650186308755900707?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/4650186308755900707/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=4650186308755900707' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4650186308755900707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4650186308755900707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2009/11/africa-cu-drag.html' title='africa -cu drag'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SvJ7bZFDtMI/AAAAAAAAAOs/WH11bxc0t_Q/s72-c/PA030144.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-1028623522577543082</id><published>2009-10-29T15:34:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T15:42:38.012+02:00</updated><title type='text'>fragment</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Fluturi parati ai paradisului,hartiile albe zburau rasucite de vant.In urma lor ,privirea ta vinetie si uda si rasul meu.Aveam amandoi zambete albe de spuma,valuri intoarse din drumul marii.Imi era dor de marea mea de acasa iar lacrimile imi aminteau de gustul verilor de odinioara.Tu nu sti ce gust are marea copilariei mele.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Atunci cand am renuntat la tot si te-am urmat la capatul lumii credeam ca nu am mare lucru.Familia m-ar fi iubit oricum si sigur ne-am fi vizitat de cate ori am fi vrut..iar restul..restul nu conta! Te aveam pe tine !Rasuflarea ce ti-o simteam in spatele urechii dimineata merita totul.Iar tu miroseai a cafea si lemn dulce.Iti luam boabele netede intre palme apoi imi frigeam buzele cu zeama sufletului tau nebotezat.Ma priveai pana inauntru asa cum nu fusesem privita niciodata.Ochii inegriti in jur ma tintuiau si ma faceau sa numai vreau altceva.Ti-am iubit glasul si smochinele coapte,ti-am iubit strigatul rugaciunilor ce-mi strapungeau timpanele.Te iubeam ca o nebuna supusa,imbracam rochiile lungi ca pe un semn al reinventarii si te asteptam in mirosul betelor ce-si varsau scrumul odata cu timpul&amp;nbsp;ce trecea.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ce dor mi- se facuse de acasa! Iar rasul tau alb nu-mi mai ajungea.Imi era dor de mama in dupa amiezile in care povesteam despre toti,de la adam si eva pana in&amp;nbsp;zilele noastre.Ea stia despre toti iar eu ii sorbeam fiecare cuvant.Imi era dor de tata si mirosul lui de tutun tras pe ascuns,mirosul de frunze ruginite si bomboane de menta.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Imi era dor de cartile mele,de caietele in care scriam&amp;nbsp;versuri stangace despre iubire.imi era dor de cutiile mele cu nimicuri&amp;nbsp;,de cizmele&amp;nbsp;de culoarea&amp;nbsp;pamantului rascolit.Imi era dor de colegii mei,chiar&amp;nbsp;si de vecina de vizavi ce ma infrunta cu privirea in fiecare dimineata cand treceam pe langa ea.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;In tara unde fugisem nu&amp;nbsp; ma lega nimic.Iar de acasa ma striga trecutul!Trecutul meu ...pe care-l indesasem in uitare.Tu nu stiai nimic din toate astea.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Priveam amandoi hartiile ce zburau&amp;nbsp;si doar eu le intelegeam zborul.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-1028623522577543082?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' title='fragment'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/1028623522577543082/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=1028623522577543082' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1028623522577543082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1028623522577543082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2009/10/fragment.html' title='fragment'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-8909562112915412029</id><published>2009-10-26T10:01:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T10:51:27.439+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Octombrie...eu..</title><content type='html'>Dimineata picurase rece dintre frunze si cer.O pacla deasa invaluia totul ,luminile, inca aprinse impungand-o din loc in loc.Pantecul noptii fusese taiat si din el se revarsa un soare infasurat in membrane gri si reci.&lt;br /&gt;  Era o duminica lenesa de octombrie. Toamna ghemuita in crizanteme ruginite,vinetii ,galbene sau pur si simplu albe,mirosea amar.Imi facusem un ceai si visam cu ochii deschisi.Imi era dor de Africa si de aromele ei.Mirosuri grele,dulci ,vascoase si persistente.Imi era dor de ceaiul gros obtinut din frunze de menta macerate cu zahar,de cafeaua mult prea dulce.De curmalele indoite in jurul unui sambure lunguiet,de rodiile insangerate si zemoase.Imi era dor de nisipul fin asemeni unui zahar pudra sau unui pesmet proaspat macinat.Africa m-a vrajit din prima clipa.&lt;br /&gt;Scortisoara,smochine,hena,sisa aromata,culori,paiete,margele,sofran si multe altele.&lt;br /&gt; Afara se facuse de-a binelea ziua.Niste oi untoase molfaiau iarba inca verde.Pe pervazul lat s-a asezat o cioara lucioasa.Privea oarecum intr-o parte,cu capul aplecat.M-a facut sa zambesc.''ciorile astea ne ingroapa pe toti"zicea odata cineva."Traiesc si o suta de ani!''&lt;br /&gt;Lumea e in campanie electorala.Multiplicati pe foi colorate ne urmaresc de peste tot.Toti sunt perfecti si merita!Cred ca am sa ascult multa muzica in perioada asta sau in sfarsit voi incepe sa scriu !&lt;br /&gt;In magazine au aparut deja globurile,beteala,ingerasii si ciorapii rosii.Parca mai ieri am strans bradul !Parca mai ieri ma ridicam pe varfuri in dreptul ferestrei sa vad cum vine mos craciun!Desi purta la mana stanga ceasul unchiului,avea niste papuci ce nu se potriveau iernii...desi avea o voce cunoscuta,era mos craciun!&lt;br /&gt; In amintirile mele lumea a ramas mica.Doamne cat mai radeam cand oameni in toata firea cantau sub ferestra ''hai lerui ler''.Nu intelegeam cu pot scoate sunetele alea si mai ales de ce...&lt;br /&gt;Aveam ciorapi scamosati si pantaloni pe sub vreo rochie de printesa.&lt;br /&gt;Dar ....am crescut si din pacate am o gramada de treaba de facut azi!Chiar daca am sa imbrac vreo rochita spumoasa,chiar daca ma voi face mica in asternuturi,chiar daca ma voi ascunde in beci...tot nu ma va scuti nimeni de indatoririle mele de adult..asa ca...&lt;br /&gt;Ale naibii ciori!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-8909562112915412029?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/8909562112915412029/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=8909562112915412029' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8909562112915412029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8909562112915412029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2009/10/octombrieeu.html' title='Octombrie...eu..'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-3959088773510148300</id><published>2009-10-23T18:40:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T18:49:49.780+03:00</updated><title type='text'>si-a mai venit o toamna care pleaca!</title><content type='html'>Am mai terminat un examen!poate imi revine si inspiratia artistica!Vremea de afara este de-a dreptul tentanta pentru melancolie si cuvinte frumoase!Vremurile...te fac sa-ti faci bagajele si sa pleci!Unde?Undeva..departe!&lt;br /&gt;  De maine scriu ''povesti"!promit! chiar daca le citesc doar eu si ioana!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-3959088773510148300?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/3959088773510148300/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=3959088773510148300' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/3959088773510148300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/3959088773510148300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2009/10/si-mai-venit-o-toamna-care-pleaca.html' title='si-a mai venit o toamna care pleaca!'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-1840847032007766829</id><published>2009-09-30T01:40:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T01:54:54.625+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Biblioteca</title><content type='html'>Lumea-biblioteca ravasita&lt;br /&gt;Oameni cu coperti lucioase&lt;br /&gt;sau nu.&lt;br /&gt;cu coperti cartonate,prin care nu patrunde durerea&lt;br /&gt;cu coperti frumos colorate ce te indeamna sa le atingi.&lt;br /&gt;Oameni seci,cu cuvinte putine ;&lt;br /&gt;Oameni pe care i-ai rasfoi in fiecare zi&lt;br /&gt;fara sa te mai saturi.&lt;br /&gt;Oameni cu pagina indoita la o anume zi a  vietii&lt;br /&gt;pagina vesela sau..de cele mai multe ori,trista.&lt;br /&gt;oameni uitati undeva sub mormanul de vieti tiparite.&lt;br /&gt;Carti aranjate pe raftul de sus&lt;br /&gt;si la care ajungi doar catarat pe scara.&lt;br /&gt;Cartea de pe noptiera...atat de citita&lt;br /&gt;Carti..oameni..povesti..cuvinte&lt;br /&gt;Oamenii au un singur volum..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-1840847032007766829?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/1840847032007766829/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=1840847032007766829' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1840847032007766829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1840847032007766829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2009/09/biblioteca.html' title='Biblioteca'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-8377503295251826315</id><published>2009-08-30T00:35:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T01:05:43.579+03:00</updated><title type='text'>feed back</title><content type='html'>Incerca sa se trezeasca dar nu reusea.Isi deschidea ochii ,tragea de brate si picioare ca si cum nu ar fi fost ale lui.Capul ii vajaia intr-un mod ciudat iar vaca aia era inca acolo.Visase o vaca dintr-acelea sacre.Avea coarnele rasucite.Il privea fix cu niste ochi sclipitori iar pe narile-i scobite scotea un abur ciudat.Dulceag si albastrui.Deci..vaca era inca acolo.In jurul lui se roteau niste fete cu trupurile imbracate in oglinzi.Mai degraba cioburi de oglinda.Se auzea o muzica stranie.Incerca sa le opreasca dar nu reusi.Vocea lui ramase agatata inlauntrul gatului sau."cine sunteti?ce vreti?Opriti-va..am ametit"Incerca sa se ridice dar ceva greu il tragea in jos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;               pe o straduta umbrita de tei infloriti ,ei doi tinandu-se de maini.Cu bratele incrucisate ,cu capul pe spate se invarteau din ce in ce mai tare.Ea radea.Radea subtire dezgolind niste dinti albi si luciosi.ca niste samburi de caisa dezbracati de pielita lor maronie.Din cand in cand ii striga sa se opreasca.dar nu se opreau.&lt;br /&gt;    In camera mirosea puternic a ceva dulceag.Fetele disparura iar in urma lor se facuse liniste.Isi simti deodata trupul usor.Realiza ca numai este in pat ci undeva deasupra dulapului,privind in jos si plutind cu bratele intinse ca niste aripi.&lt;br /&gt;                plutind deasupra sifonierului unde bunica punea la copt banabele verzi.cutii de chibrituri si un plici cu coada albastra.Mirosul de dulceata de smochine.Mirosul parului ei ud. Avea nisip lipit de glezne.O cauta cu privirea cum disparea intr-una din camerele intunecoase.Nu inchidea niciodata usa in urma ei.&lt;br /&gt;  Cauta cu privirea un loc in care sa se opreasca.Ii placea sa zboare dar simtea cum corpul incepe sa-l traga in jos,redevenind greu.Se trezi brusc pe spatele vacii,cu fata lipita de gatul ei gros.Simti mirosul acela dulce al aburului ce iesea din narile sacre.Doamne,ce nebunie!gandi el.De ce nu pot sa ma trezesc?Cobori de pe spatele animalului care ramase in continuare nemiscat.Realiza ca este descult si simti parchetul rece sub talpi.&lt;br /&gt;                 ninsese toata noaptea.Trebuia sa mearga la scoala .nu ar fi vrut sa coboare din pat.o facu,totusi.Merse la fereastra si o deschise.Totul era alb.Intinse mana si aduna zapada de pe pervazul exterior.o duse la gura si o atinse cu limba&lt;br /&gt;    Cineva il striga.Se intoarse si o vazu pe ea.Tinea in mana un pahar de vin rosu.&lt;br /&gt;"vrei?il intreba si ii intinse paharul.Aveam chef sa beau ceva.Ai adormit si ma plictiseam.&lt;br /&gt;o privea nauc.Intinse totusi mana si ii lua paharul.Sorbi o gura si se opri.&lt;br /&gt;''A ce miroase?" o intreba&lt;br /&gt;"Am aprins narghileaua.Iti place?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-8377503295251826315?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/8377503295251826315/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=8377503295251826315' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8377503295251826315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8377503295251826315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2009/08/feed-back.html' title='feed back'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-3031467159498319282</id><published>2009-05-22T09:46:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T09:58:18.559+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Inceputuri</title><content type='html'>Muscam din san&lt;br /&gt;                ca dintr-un colt de paine,&lt;br /&gt;                ca dintr-un mar de toamna&lt;br /&gt;                ce m-astepta pe mine.&lt;br /&gt;                Gura-ti sorbeam ca pe un vin citit&lt;br /&gt;                Duminica-n biserici,&lt;br /&gt;                Privind spre rasarit.&lt;br /&gt;                Erai asa frumoasa,eram asa flamand!&lt;br /&gt;                Plangeai dar ma priveai tacand.&lt;br /&gt;                iar lacrimile tale&lt;br /&gt;                cadeau in spatele cortinei&lt;br /&gt;                de pleoape si de dor.&lt;br /&gt;                Cu fiecare lacrima eu ramaneam dator.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-3031467159498319282?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/3031467159498319282/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=3031467159498319282' title='10 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/3031467159498319282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/3031467159498319282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2009/05/inceputuri.html' title='Inceputuri'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-8937571125321906765</id><published>2009-05-06T21:22:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T21:34:52.798+03:00</updated><title type='text'>joc de carti</title><content type='html'>Rasnita noptii cerne stele peste noi.&lt;br /&gt;       Jucam razboi &lt;br /&gt;       c-un pachet de amintiri din copilarie.&lt;br /&gt;       Tu tragi o amintire,apoi e randul meu.&lt;br /&gt;        Nu pierde nimeni.&lt;br /&gt;        Amandoi primim pedeapsa trecutului pierdut.&lt;br /&gt;        Sub cerul negru noi doi&lt;br /&gt;        si regina noptii.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-8937571125321906765?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/8937571125321906765/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=8937571125321906765' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8937571125321906765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8937571125321906765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2009/05/joc-de-carti.html' title='joc de carti'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-8875870129690967028</id><published>2009-05-03T11:52:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T12:02:23.994+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ieri am avut o experienta tare neplacuta..Mi-a dat fiori si la propriu si la figurat.In incercarea de a muta o lampa am avut parte de o ''cutremurare''electrica.Am simtit unda cum intra prin inelarul mainii drepte si cum strabate bratul,pieptul si iese prin inelarul mainii stangi.Am sarit la un metru in spate si mi-au dat lacrimile instantaneu.Cred ca de frica.Am resimtit o durere in tot corpul cateva ore bune dupa incident.&lt;br /&gt;  Acum ma gandesc doar ca am avut noroc..si astept inspiratie creatoare!nu asa e in filme?!&lt;br /&gt;poate o sa aud voci..sau o sa pot canta(acum cant un pic mai bine decat un magar gripat),sau mi se vor albastri ochii(desi sunt foarte multumita de culoarea lor actuala)...cine stie.&lt;br /&gt;   Urmatoarea postare va fi una...electrizanta!Astept propuneri...:))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-8875870129690967028?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/8875870129690967028/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=8875870129690967028' title='5 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8875870129690967028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8875870129690967028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2009/05/ieri-am-avut-o-experienta-tare.html' title=''/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-4849927724093201018</id><published>2009-04-07T09:26:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T09:51:32.063+03:00</updated><title type='text'>drumul spre clasa</title><content type='html'>Multimea de copii aplauda frenetic condusa din umbra de o tipa bondoaca si roscovana.Educatoarea.Fata ei stralucea de transpiratie iar bratele ei se miscau, aparent haotic,in toate partile.&lt;br /&gt;Praful plutea intr-un dans hipnotizant,trezit din dusumeaua salii de sport.&lt;br /&gt;Firicelul caldut aluneca incet pe sub pantalonul de lana.Il simtea conturandu-i coapsa si gamba.Sub el,podeaua isi schimba incet culoarea imbiband caldura.Era neputincios si simtea cum il treceau toate apele.Se uita fastacit la cei din jur,imaginile isi pierdeau conturul,precum o acuarea pe o sugativa uda.Spera din tot sufletul ca nimeni sa nu vada pata acuzatoare de pe podea.Oricum,multimea se foia in toate partile asa ca nimeni nu mai era indreptatit sa-l asocieze cu incriminatoarea dovada.Pantalonii nu-l tradau.Culoarea lor inchisa il proteja.&lt;br /&gt; Cand mana transpirata a educatoarei il infasca de cot,inima lui o lua de-a binelea din loc si el isi astepta acuzarea.Dar se trezi asezat ''in rand,doi cate doi''in drumul spre clasa.&lt;br /&gt;    Acum,dupa atata vreme,retraia momentele acelea din copilaria lui abandonata in trecut.Simtea din nou toata multimea aceea acuzatoare chiar daca,in afara de ea,nu era nimeni acolo.Ii urmarea parul roscat si icolacit in rotocoale sparte.Mana ei ii masa coapsa stransa sub perechea aceea de blugi negri.&lt;br /&gt;Isi auzea propria respiratie cum se grabea,isi simtea mainile transpirandu-i.Deodata coapsa stanga il frigea iar mana ei continua acelasi ritm.A vrut sa o opreasca si a apucat-o de brat.Ea a inceput sa rada.Dar radea cu vocile zecilor de copii stransi in jurul lui,aratandu-l acuzator .&lt;br /&gt;Revedea praful,sipcile dusumelei,pistruii educatoarei bondoace.&lt;br /&gt;_n-am vrut!N-am vrut! se trezi ca striga.&lt;br /&gt;Isi reveni brusc si rasufla usurat cand isi dadu seama ca ea nu era in camera.Se simtea la fel de usurat ca in drumul ''doi cate doi ''spre clasa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-4849927724093201018?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/4849927724093201018/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=4849927724093201018' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4849927724093201018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4849927724093201018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2009/04/drumul-spre-clasa.html' title='drumul spre clasa'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-5716978394197405234</id><published>2009-04-02T23:28:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T23:53:51.335+03:00</updated><title type='text'>rosu</title><content type='html'>strangea intre degete un mugur de plop&lt;br /&gt;era umed si rece.&lt;br /&gt;si rosu.&lt;br /&gt;narile lui respirau mirosul.&lt;br /&gt;mirosul sanului alb cu mugure rosu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-5716978394197405234?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/5716978394197405234/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=5716978394197405234' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/5716978394197405234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/5716978394197405234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2009/04/rosu.html' title='rosu'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-4911330286868637618</id><published>2009-03-25T00:14:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T00:42:31.736+02:00</updated><title type='text'>o gara</title><content type='html'>Stateam amandoi pe o valiza inalta.priveam trenurile.Eram desculti si totusi aveam talpile curate.Eu tineam in mana un buchet de traista ciobanului(o planta cu inflorescenta mica si alba si frunze in forma de inimioara).Tu ma priveai insistent,fara sa scoti vreo vorba.Ochii tai rotunzi imi transmiteau o stare de fericire profunda.Eu nu ma uitam spre tine,urmaream agitatia garii aceleia plina de oameni.Impingeau la bagaje grele si mari,vieti gatuite intre fermoare.Trenurile veneau si plecau ,parca fara zgomot,dar mereu pline pana la refuz.Toti erau grabiti.La un moment dat cineva s-a apropiat de noi si a spus"sa fie intr-un ceas bun!" A facut stanga-mprejur si a plecat.Iti ascultam gandurile,incercand sa inteleg in acelasi timp ce dorise sa spuna persoana aceea fara sex.Imi spuneai ca oricum ar fi stat lucrurile erai convins ca sunt a ta.Eram socata de cate nuante aveau gandurile tale,tu maestru al  viziunii alb negru."ce mireasa frumoasa''am auzit o voce de copil.Am privit degetul acela mic,cu oja sarita de pe unghia roasa din carne.Arata inspre mine.M-am privit Am revazut buchetul de flori..si am realizat ca purtam o rochie alba..ca o dantela ciudata.Sau mai degraba dintr-o perdea precum acelea pe care le avea bunica la geamurile de la usi.Perdelele acelea incretite pe ata,sus si jos,pe care le trageam intr-o parte in dorinta sa vad holul..&lt;br /&gt;Dintr-o data am stiut ca sunt mireasa.poate cea mai ciudata mireasa pe care mi-as fi putut-o imagina vreodata.Tu ma priveai in continuare fara sa spui nimic.Eu priveam trenurile si oamenii fara nume,fete,sex."tu m-ai facut sa vad zambetul sau tristetea unui caine"mi-ai spus fara cuvinte.''as fi jurat ca animalele nu zambesc si nu plang"&lt;br /&gt;       M-am trezit fericita si in acelasi timp contrariata.&lt;br /&gt;Imi place la nebunie sa visez.Cred ca oamenii care nu viseaza sunt niste oameni tristi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-4911330286868637618?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/4911330286868637618/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=4911330286868637618' title='7 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4911330286868637618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4911330286868637618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2009/03/o-gara.html' title='o gara'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-5761543043923559020</id><published>2009-03-02T21:36:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T22:11:57.524+02:00</updated><title type='text'>un retardat</title><content type='html'>-De cand asteptam sa fac asta!spuse aprinzandu-si o tigara din pachetul ei.&lt;br /&gt;        -Ce ?Sa fumezi?&lt;br /&gt;Femeia ,cu mainile la spate isi incheia sutienul negru scamosat.&lt;br /&gt;       _Sa ti-o trag,ranji Andrei&lt;br /&gt;       -Mie?Sau unei curve oarecare?&lt;br /&gt;       -Tie.Nu-mi plac curvele.Mai ales cele batrane.&lt;br /&gt;        -Esti un tampit, asta esti!mainile ei rulau nervoase ciorapii pe coapsele pistruiate.Asa-mi trebuie daca ma duc cu pusti.&lt;br /&gt;        -Imi placea mai mult cu par.Si lui taica-miu ii placea .Probabil te incurca ,e mai usor de ''intretinut'' asa!&lt;br /&gt;        -Esti tampit de-a binelea!mai bine ma car..e plin de obsedati&lt;br /&gt;         -O mai sti pe Sanda?&lt;br /&gt;        -Sanda care?&lt;br /&gt;         -Prietena ta din tinerete.Cu care iti beai cafeaua in balconul  nostru amarat.Te uitai la mine ca la un retardat.&lt;br /&gt;        -Tu esti copilul Sandei?&lt;br /&gt;Privindu-l,se aseza pe marginea patului si incepu sa-si caute tigarile printre cearceafuri.&lt;br /&gt;       -Ia-le !Andrei ii arunca pachetul si intra in baie.&lt;br /&gt;        -Erai un retardat!ii auzi vocea harjaita in urma lui.Si inca esti!macar tac-tu era barbat!tu esti un tampit,auzi?&lt;br /&gt;dadu cu putere doi pumni in usa baii :Hai,iesi si da-mi banii!ma grabesc!&lt;br /&gt;Baiatul iesi incheindu-se la blugi.Se opri in fata ei.&lt;br /&gt;      -Mereu ai fost urata dar macar atunci erai tanara.Mama era frumoasa.Avea pielea alba si..&lt;br /&gt;       -Sanda a murit?&lt;br /&gt;        -Nu-i treaba ta!De taica-miu nu intrebi?Desi..cred ca nu-l mai interesezi!Mai vrei?&lt;br /&gt;         -Ce?&lt;br /&gt;        -O tura!in amintirea zilelor de demult:Hortensiei 3,etajul 7.O camera mica ,un pat ce scartaia in mirosul altei femei.Un barbat mai tot timpul dispus si un baiat pe care-l priveai cu dispret.Ma credeai mut..&lt;br /&gt;         -Nu vorbeai niciodata!&lt;br /&gt;        -Ba am vorbit.I-am spus lui taica-miu ca stiu tot si ca vreau bani sa tac.M-a plesnit peste cap si a plecat.Cand s-a intors mi-a intins o tigara si mi-a spus ca-l voi intelege.&lt;br /&gt;Nu am luat-o .L-am privit in ochi si i-am spus ca mama a plecat .&lt;br /&gt;A inebunit de furie .S-a dus spre dormitor injurandu-ma .Eu radeam.Ma jucam cu el .&lt;br /&gt;         -Sanda nu l-a iubit niciodata.ii era scarba de barbati ,daca ma intelegi.&lt;br /&gt;        -Esti  penibila!poti sa te cari.Isi baga mana in buzunarul de la spate si scoase niste bacnote mototolite.&lt;br /&gt;        -hai..du-te unde iti e locul!&lt;br /&gt;         -esti un tampit!&lt;br /&gt;        -Ai mai spus asta...Si tu o curva batrana ce tocmai ti-ai tras-o cu un tampit!&lt;br /&gt;Inchise usa in urma ei si se intinse in pat cu fata in sus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-5761543043923559020?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/5761543043923559020/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=5761543043923559020' title='7 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/5761543043923559020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/5761543043923559020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2009/03/un-retardat.html' title='un retardat'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-1722995871417398551</id><published>2009-02-16T18:41:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T19:00:47.867+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Dumnezeu stia</title><content type='html'>Atunci cand ne-a facut,Dumnezeu stia.Dumnezeu stie tot.&lt;br /&gt;Stia ca unii dintre noi isi vor manji mainile cu sangele aproapelui.Stia ca unii vor fi martorii ingropaciunii propriilor copii.Unii se vor scalda in lux,vor cumpara oameni si suflete iar altii isi vor vinde sufletul pentru o tigara alba.Stia ca unii isi vor petrece toata viata aprinzand lumanari,sarutand icoane sfintite si apoi afumate.Iar altii vor saruta icoanele reci cu aceleasi buze cu care cu o noapte inainte(sau poate in aceasi dimineata) au stors placeri umede .&lt;br /&gt; Dumnezeu stia ca vom minti,vom trada,vom arunca cu pietre,vom blestema.Stia ca vom smulge pana cu pana aripile ingerilor trimisi pentru salvarea noastra.Parca-L si vad cum ne priveste cum incercam,cu maini tremurande ,sa le lipim la loc dupa ce in prealabil le-am spalat cu cele mai noi solutii de albit.Desigur nu  vor mai mirosi a mir..dar nici a clor.&lt;br /&gt;Stia ca femeia si barbatul se vor ''impreuna'' ori de cate ori vor avea chef,in cele mai variate intortocheri de trupuri si icnete si desigur nu pentru a face urmasi purtatori de credinta.&lt;br /&gt;  Stia ca oamenii vor incinge tamplele Fiului sau cu maracini.Ca-i vor bate cuie in trupul nascut din Preacurata fecioara.&lt;br /&gt;Stia toate astea si o gramada de alte lucruri despre noi.Si..desigur..stie clipa de clipa ce facem noi.&lt;br /&gt;Cu toate astea ne-a facut si ne-a ''lasat sa ne facem de cap".&lt;br /&gt;De acolo de sus asteapta sa ne marturisim pacatele.La ce serveste aceasta marturisire a pacatelor..mai ales ca ea vine de cele mai multe ori..foarte rar si desigur incomplet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-1722995871417398551?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/1722995871417398551/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=1722995871417398551' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1722995871417398551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1722995871417398551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2009/02/dumnezeu-stia.html' title='Dumnezeu stia'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-8915853419301967436</id><published>2009-02-07T23:16:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T23:28:49.303+02:00</updated><title type='text'>dor de mare</title><content type='html'>Am fost sa vad marea.Imi era dor sa o aud rece si sarata.Am gasit-o neagra si stralucitoare in lumina lunii.Am inchis ochii si am tras aer in piept.O auzeam lovindu-se de pietre.Am mirosit-o ,am gustat-o ,am atins-o.&lt;br /&gt;Batea putin vantul si se facuse frig.Am plecat acasa cu gandul la ea.&lt;br /&gt;Daca inchid ochii sunt inca acolo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-8915853419301967436?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/8915853419301967436/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=8915853419301967436' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8915853419301967436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8915853419301967436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2009/02/dor-de-mare.html' title='dor de mare'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-8132370741784838945</id><published>2009-01-04T23:24:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T23:42:31.286+02:00</updated><title type='text'>ninge cu iarna</title><content type='html'>Furnalul scuipa mate incalcite si negre.Se rasuceau bolnavicios si apoi dispareau in frig.Ningea usor cu iarna.Mai bine ar fi nins cu duminici .Imi era dor de bataia clopotului de duminica(cand bat clopotele,dumnica,dorm..)&lt;br /&gt;Ma durea umarul drept.Statusem toata noaptea cu mana intinsa prin fereastra deschisa.Am asteptat primul fulg.Cand a inceput sa ninga,spre dimineata,dormeam dezamagit pe canapeaua mea verde.Mai sti canapeaua aia verde din dormitor?Acum e in sufragerie.Dormitorul e gol si alb.Doar o perna turceasca si mare si multe foi.multe foi peste tot.albe.Foile mele si lipsa ta.Stiai ca lipsa ta e alba?Nu-mi spune nimic.nici macar nu-mi este dor.&lt;br /&gt;Sti cum realizez ca nu a trecut prea mult de la plecarea ta?Canapeaua miroase ca tine.Asa cum miroseai tu cand ieseai de la dus infasurata intr-un prosop alb.Te asezai pe canapea si te dadeai cu crema.priveam fascinat ritualul tau unsuros Talpile erau ale mele.Radeam amandoi cand iti rasfirai degetele de la picioare.Evantai cu varfuri boante si rosii.Mereu mi-au placut picioarele oamenilor.Sunt asa diferite si ignorate .Talpile tale erau mereu reci si lasau urme frumoase pe gresia din hol.Ai fi fost in stare sa razi daca ti-as fi gadelat urmele.Erai bolnava de ras.Uite,chiar imi e dor de rasul tau.&lt;br /&gt;A trecut si Craciunul.Anul asta n-am mancat cozonac.Sti cum imi place mie cozonacul?inmuiat in apa rece.&lt;br /&gt;Afara ninge .Fumul gri seamana cu norii din icoanele bunicii.Mi s-a facut dor de tine si de desenele cu sfinti din biserici.&lt;br /&gt;Am sa te sun duminica.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-8132370741784838945?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/8132370741784838945/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=8132370741784838945' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8132370741784838945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8132370741784838945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2009/01/ninge-cu-iarna.html' title='ninge cu iarna'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-8042289977462046737</id><published>2008-12-16T23:52:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T00:14:53.291+02:00</updated><title type='text'>de n-ar mai ploua!</title><content type='html'>Gainile isi plimbau agale pulpele prin ograda galbena si cleioasa.Penele lor aveau culoarea norilor cenusii de iarna iar crestele le picau obosite intr-o parte.Printre ele o silueta neagra ale carei picioare se arcuiau exagerat in afara.Un caine murdar si surd se uita la cer.Macar de n-ar mai ploua!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_de ce ai batut-o?&lt;br /&gt;_era cu el&lt;br /&gt;_unde?&lt;br /&gt;_in carciuma.dar i-am aratat eu ..o sa ma tina minte!&lt;br /&gt;in bucataria mucegaita si rece doi barbati stateau la masa.in fata lor o sticla de 2 litri cu vin.Rosu ,de curte..ca doar era iarna.Tata si fiu.Amandoi mai batrani decat erau in realitate.&lt;br /&gt;_macar de n-ar mai ploua!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In camera din fata mirosea a naftalina.O femeie cazuta langa pat horcaia in somn.din nas in cursese sange.O icoana inlacrimata privea indiferenta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;Macar de n-ar mai ploua!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-8042289977462046737?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/8042289977462046737/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=8042289977462046737' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8042289977462046737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8042289977462046737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/12/de-n-ar-mai-ploua.html' title='de n-ar mai ploua!'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-90190615755483452</id><published>2008-10-14T23:58:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T00:23:06.114+03:00</updated><title type='text'>ALEXANDRU</title><content type='html'>azi am cunoscut un suflet cu gene lungi.Il cheama Alexandru si are 5 ani.Parintii lui numai au nevoie de el.Mama a plecat ..cu un barbat,tatal si-a gasit si el o alta femeie.mama lui nu l-a mai cautat de peste 1 an si jumatate.Nici macar la telefon.Pe el il creste bunica,din cate am inteles bunica paterna.&lt;br /&gt;Alexandru e mai tot timpul racit.Bunica il duce la doctor,ii da medicamente,il creste asa cum se pricepe si ea.De multe ori plang impreuna,ea plina de griji,de frica zilei in care ea va fi prea batrana sau bolnava,el de dragul ei,de dorul de parintii pe care spune ca nu-i mai vrea.Are doar 5 ani si se intreaba cu o voce serioasa"ce ma fac eu?".&lt;br /&gt;Daca maine parintii mei ar pleca in lumea mare si nu as mai sti nimic de ei cred ca as fi distrusa.Daca mama mea nu m-ar mai suna,nu ar mai avea nevoie de mine..cred ca as adormi in fiecare seara cu lacrimi pe obraz.Eu sunt un om in toata firea deja,teoretic as putea sa-mi port foarte bine de grija si singura...si totusi cred ca as fi distrusa sa stiu ca ei nu ma mai vor in viata lor.Alexandru are doar 5 ani.Stie ca ai lui numai au nevoie de el.Nu plange,nu vrea sa-i caute.Nu o mai vrea pe mama lui.O are pe bunica de care nu se dezlipeste nicio clipa.E un copil cu sufletul frant,cu privire trista si aruncat de cei ce i-au dat viata.&lt;br /&gt;Sunt aproape convinsa ca nimic pe lumea asta nu-i intamplator.Ca toate lucrurile se intampla dintr-un motiv bine stabilit..de cineva.ACUM MA INTREB:de ce a venit acest pe lume ?De ce femeia asta ,care poate trai limistita fara sa stie macar daca el este bine,a devenit mama? Habar nu am..Si din pacate in situatia acasta sunt o gramada de copii.Azi l-am cunoscut pe Alexandru.Cred ca nu intamplator.Mi-am promis ca-l voi ajuta.Macar pe linia medicala,atat cat pot.Bunica lui nu stie unde sa mearga cu el,si oricum singura fiind ii este greu din toate punctele de vedere.&lt;br /&gt;langa noi sunt atatia oameni cu adevarat nefericiti.sufera in tacere chiar daca nu au nicio vina ca au o astfel de viata.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-90190615755483452?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/90190615755483452/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=90190615755483452' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/90190615755483452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/90190615755483452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/10/alexandru.html' title='ALEXANDRU'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-249852141567558256</id><published>2008-09-28T20:04:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T20:16:33.941+03:00</updated><title type='text'>toamna</title><content type='html'>Toamna miroase a focuri de frunze,a ploaie rece,a pamant si struguri capsunica.E frig.Simt cum frigul asta mi-a patruns pana in oase si nu pot sa scap de el.Adun castane reci si lucioase si netezesc amintiri mototolite demult.A inceput scoala.Pentru mine scoala s-a terminat de ceva vreme..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am vazut ieri niste vrabii.Jucau x si 0 pe un gard de sarma-o tabla uriasa de joc.Fiecare vrabie se aseza intr-un patrat de sarma si astepta urmatoarea mutare.Afara mirosea a dovleac copt.&lt;br /&gt;Imi este frig si imi este dor de mare.A trecut prea repede vara asta .&lt;br /&gt;Castane,must,dovleac,pere,nuci,scoala,frig..toamna si dor de vara.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-249852141567558256?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/249852141567558256/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=249852141567558256' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/249852141567558256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/249852141567558256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/09/toamna.html' title='toamna'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-2107765566107781165</id><published>2008-09-08T23:15:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T23:30:09.098+03:00</updated><title type='text'>greseli ucigase</title><content type='html'>In saptamana a 8-a de sarcina,''bebelusul'' masoara aproximativ 11 mm iar fetisoara lui s-a format deja.Incepe sa se zareasca o gura mica,un nasuc.Are primele reflexe la anumiti stimuli.Practic,o noua viata a inceput deja.Un viitor om si-a inceput povestea.&lt;br /&gt;De ce intr-o vreme in care contraceptia este la indemana tuturor se fac intreruperi de sarcina pe banda rulanta!Cine ne da dreptul ca ,intr-o zi oarecare,sa punem punct unei vieti?Nu stiu cate dintre persoanele care au hoarat sa faca o intrerupere de sarcina s-au gandit macar o clipa la ce i se va intampla grauntelui de viata din interiorul lor!Nu vorbesc aici la cazurile patologice,speciale etc.&lt;br /&gt;Sunt imagini dure,socante.Un omulet in miniatura este smuls,deconectat de le sursa lui de hrana,ucis.Insangerat,micul viitor om,moare inainte chiar de a se naste.El a fost o ''greseala'' !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-2107765566107781165?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/2107765566107781165/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=2107765566107781165' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/2107765566107781165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/2107765566107781165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/09/greseli-ucigase.html' title='greseli ucigase'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-6011453753890016994</id><published>2008-08-22T22:12:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T23:48:31.733+03:00</updated><title type='text'>ultimul fluture</title><content type='html'>Paharul era gol.Mintea lui era plina de intrebari,de reprosuri si ganduri vechi.Isi vedea mana stanga desenand fluturi albastri pe spatele ei gol.Pixul se oprea din cand in cand si el il scutura de cateva ori,mazgalea energic pe incheietura lui dreapta si gata.Ea radea cu capul afundat in perne si miscandu-si picioarele indoite,arcusuri albe pe strune invizibile.Apoi fluturii se stergeau in sarutari ude si cearceafuri sifonate de dragoste.Diminetile erau mereu prea aproape iar acum noapte nu se mai sfarsea.Daca ar fi stiut ca mana lui desenase ultimul fluture in noaptea aceea fara luna,cu siguranta ca l-ar fi desenat pe cel mai frumos.Ar fi arcuit fiecare aripa cu grija,ar fi rasucit cele mai fine antene..Ar fi sarutat gura ei rosie pana ar fi inrosit-o si mai tare si i-ar fi mangaiat pleoapele adormite cu rasuflarea lui.Dar acel ultim fluture ramasese neterminat iar el adormise pe un fotoliu.Isi amintea cum striga ca un apucat,cum o stansese cu putere de un brat..Ea il privea speriata si neasteptat de calma.Ar fi vrut sa planga,sa o vada cerandu-si iertare.Sa-i spuna ca nu vrea sa-l piarda si ca a gresit.Dar ea,statea nemiscata in mijlocul patului ,rasucind intre degete pixul albastru si prividul cum se invartea prin camera.Nu tresarise nici macar atunci cand el izbise paharul gros de peretele alb.Iar cand a iesit din camera trantind usa in urma lui ea a stins veioza de pe noptiera si a adormit.A adormit si el langa sticla goala si lipicioasa si s-a trezit tarziu,cu mainile inclestate si capul vajaind.Usa dormitorului era deschisa iar patul facut.In mijlocul patului,in acelasi loc de unde il privea ea,a gasit un bilet:"imi este teama de fluturi.''A citit de doua ori literele aplecate spre stanga.A mototolit nervos hartia si a sunat-o .Telefonul ei era inchis.Daca nu era adevarat nimic din ce-si inchipuise el vazand-o razand la bratul barbatului acela grizonat?Daca era pur si simplu un vechi prieten,un unchi regasit dupa mult timp,un prieten al tatalui ei disparut cand ea era copila?Daca ar fi venit la ea si ea i l-ar fi prezentat..Dar el a plecat nervos si a asteptat-o acasa,mocnind in fantasme si alcool.Cand ea a ajuns acasa,a asteptat sa spuna ceva,s-a purtat cat a putut el de natural.A incercat chiar sa deseneze pacatosul ala de fluture..dar nu a mai rezistat.A rabufnit in acuze si cuvinte grele.Dar ea de ce nu a spus nimic?Poate chiar il iubea pe barbatul ala si astepta momentul sa scape de el?Si el..atat de fraier sa deseneze pe spatele ei ..&lt;br /&gt;Paharul lui era gol si noapte nu se mai termina.Astepta sa se intample ceva,orice ,numai sa se faca mai repede dimineata.Ar fi iertat-o.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-6011453753890016994?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/6011453753890016994/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=6011453753890016994' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6011453753890016994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6011453753890016994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/08/ultimul-fluture.html' title='ultimul fluture'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-5051043245209866400</id><published>2008-08-01T01:14:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T01:25:44.349+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>doua frunze fosnesc intre ele:&lt;br /&gt;-as vrea sa cad inaintea ta..nu vreau sa vad cum vantul te va duce departe.Si eu..sa raman neputincioasa aici..jumate galbena ,si sa te strig,iar tu sa te amesteci cu celelalte mii de frunze.Nu vreau sa vad cum va veni el si te va calca,si tu vei striga de sub talpa aceea striata .Sau poate..ar veni ea prima si te-ar privi,si-ar aminti de el,si te-ar lua sa te puna intr-o carte veche:"scrisoare de dragoste".&lt;br /&gt;-poate vei cadea tu prima..&lt;br /&gt;-hai mai bine sa ne tinem de mana si sa zburam amandoi.Sa zburam cu ochii inchisi si sa lasam vantul sa ne duca departe.Sa ne lasam din zbor pe o apa gri si sa plutim.Sa plutim cu ochii deschisi,sa privim cerul pana va incepe sa ninga.Vom ingheta impreuna de dragul iernii!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-5051043245209866400?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/5051043245209866400/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=5051043245209866400' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/5051043245209866400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/5051043245209866400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/08/doua-frunze-fosnesc-intre-ele-as-vrea.html' title=''/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-1306643991261327407</id><published>2008-08-01T00:39:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T01:09:56.973+03:00</updated><title type='text'>duminica</title><content type='html'>hai sa ne trezim in dimineata ce vine impreuna!Tu te prefaci ca e duminica,ca nu te grabesti si ca dimineata asta e numai a noastra.Te ridici din pat doar dupa ce ma saruti pe spate,musai de doua ori,sa fiu sigura ca nu visez!Mergi incet spre bucatarie si faci o cafea in ibricul acela rosiatic.Mirosul cafelei sigur ma va trezi.Am sa cobor si eu din pat si am sa te sarut pe ceafa in timp ce tu torni laptele in cafea.Si ca dimineata asta sa fie perfecta,ne vom bea cafeaua stand turceste pe covorul din sufragerie,ascultand muzica.Ne vom privi in ochi si tu-mi vei numara alunitele.Va fi destul de greu..sti ca ma gadil!Buzele tale vor avea gust de cafea,ale mele de zahar cubic.Stiai ca ochii tai au picatele maronii!?cred ca nu..Si ca sa fie echitabil ..iti voi numara si eu zambetele.Ai cel putin vreo 10 feluri de a zambi.Si pentru ca sigur nu vei numara bine alunitele,drept pedeapsa,ma vei pieptana.Cum nu sti?!Nu e greu deloc.Duci mana sus,ca si cum ai vrea sa ma mangai pe crestet,apoi cobori cu peria de-a lungul parului si tot asa!Vezi nu este greu deloc!Ce bine ca e duminica!&lt;br /&gt;Si daca tot este duminica ce-ar fi daca ne-am comporta ca si cum lumea ar fi disparut.Am ramas doar noi doi,eu cu parul mirosind a cafea si tu cu aroma cafelei in palme.Ce vrei sa facem azi?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-1306643991261327407?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/1306643991261327407/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=1306643991261327407' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1306643991261327407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1306643991261327407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/08/duminica.html' title='duminica'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-1467937843548640620</id><published>2008-07-27T00:09:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T00:37:49.333+03:00</updated><title type='text'>greselile ei</title><content type='html'>Toate greselile mele au inceput cu tine.&lt;br /&gt;Te-am privit intr-o noapte de vara pe gaura cheii cum iubeai o femeie.In locul ei ,ma vedeam pe mine femeie.Apoi am privit-o, din spatele perdelelor ,cum pleca.Plangea si eu zambeam ,bucurandu-ma de izbanda.Iti jura ca nimic din tot ce auzisei tu nu este adevarat.Dar tu ai ramas neinduplecat.Un copil nu poate minti cu asa ceva.Mai ales ca acel copil iti este sora,fie ea si vitrega,asa cum iti eram eu.&lt;br /&gt;Apoi,intr-o dimineata ploioasa de vara am gresit intrand in camera ta.In pat dormea o femeie frumoasa,cea mai frumoasa femeie pe care o vazusem dezbracata vreodata.Avea chipul ascuns intre perne si par.Dormea pe burta,lasand sa se vada niste picioare perfecte,un spate parca desenat de un pictor nebun de perfectiune.Trupul ii era bronzat,doar fesele ii erau albe.I-am vazut fata privindu-ma cu groaza si sila cand i-am spus ca tu ma iubesti pe mine.Ca strigi ca apucatul de placerea -nauntrului meu(te auzisem de atatea ori strigand de placere in camera ta..)&lt;br /&gt;In timp ce se imbraca ii urmaream sanii albi,fesele rotunde,coapsele perfecte.Eu eram o copila slabuta,cu extremitati lungi si osoase.S-a incaltat cu niste sandale verzi si a plecat pentru totdeauna,privindu-ma cu mila peste umarul drept.Tu ai crezut ca a plecat dupa un alt barbat,doar la cat era de frumoasa ar fi fost pacat si nedrept sa fie femeia unuia singur.&lt;br /&gt;Dupa multe veri fara greseli,veri in care am fost departe de tine,m-am intors.M-am intors sa gresesc din nou.De data asta eram gata pentru cea mai mare greseala dintre toate de pana acum.Stiam ca numai sunt o copila.Eram o femeie.Am iesit goala din baie cand tu citeai o carte cu coperti negre.Parul ud picura in urma mea trasand drumul spre tine.Tu ma priveai uluit.Cartea iti cazuse din maini langa fotoliu.Picaturile de apa ce cadeau pe copertile ei negre masurau timpul.Eram in bratele tale si iti spuneam ca te vreau.Tu ma priveai de parca ma vedeai pentru prima data.Mi-ai infipt o mana in ceafa si m-ai trantit pe covor.In sfarsit greseai si tu!Daca ai fi stiut ca esti primul care gresete cu mine poate nu ai fi facut-o.Cand am strigat de sub tine te-ai ridicat si m-ai intrebat,cu ochii pironiti in ochii mei:de ce?&lt;br /&gt;Te-am luat de maini si te-am sarutat,te-am sarutat cum visasem de atatea ori in noptile noastre de vara despartite de un perete.peretele camerei tale in care tu urlai de placere.peretele camerei mele in care eu imi planuiam greselile.&lt;br /&gt;Ti-am spus ca toate greselile mele au inceput cu tine si apoi te-am facut sa strigi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-1467937843548640620?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/1467937843548640620/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=1467937843548640620' title='8 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1467937843548640620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1467937843548640620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/07/toate-greselile-mele-au-inceput-cu-tine.html' title='greselile ei'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-7865800090576879696</id><published>2008-07-25T23:03:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T23:30:11.748+03:00</updated><title type='text'>chipul din oglinda</title><content type='html'>Si-a apropiat fata de oglinda din baie.Printre aburii ignoranti atrasi de sticla rece a oglinzii isi vedea chipul.Era chipul lui,acelasi pe care-l vedea in fiecare zi si totusi atat de altul fata de ziua dintai.Oricum nu-si amintea de ziua aceea si nici macar in pozele alb negru din albumul de familie nu se recunostea.Ceilalti spuneau ca e el si el ii credea.El cu Mos Craciun,el speriat si mic langa o caprioara impaiata cu ochi galbeni de sticla,el in clasa intai,tot el marinar la plaja etc.&lt;br /&gt;Acum se privea fix si din ce in ce mai aproape.Deodata privea un chip de barbat,cu ochi verzi,cu sprancene arcuite curajos de mult .Vazu niste cearcane vinetii ,niste buze cu striatii foarte fine ce formau desene necunoscute.Il privea pe barbatul din fata lui fara retinere.Acesta nu parea sa-l fi observat.Isi incrunta sprancenele incercand sa le uneasca deasupra nasului,apoi zambi dezvelind niste dinti destul de albi.Deci asta vedeau ceilalti cand il priveau pe el...Interesant ca el era privat de imaginea chipului lui.De chipul sau razand,de chipul sau strigand de nervi,fluierand vreo melodie stupida in timp ce-si prajea cartofi.Habar nu avea cum arata cand doarme,cum arata cand plange,cand face dragoste sau cum plange cand face dragoste.Nu-si stia chipul cand priveste chipul ei,cand citeste afurisitul de horoscop din ziar,cand asteapta metroul sau cand fuge.&lt;br /&gt;Dintre toti el se cunostea cel mai putin.Cel putin din exterior.Nici macar propria lui voce nu si-o stiaPentru ca vocea lui ajungea distorsionata la urechile lui,transmisa prin propriilelui oase. Nu stia cum rade,cum canta,cum minte,cum merge,cum miroase.&lt;br /&gt;Chipul din oglinda era el..acelasi in fiecare zi si atat de diferit azi fata de ziua dintai.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-7865800090576879696?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/7865800090576879696/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=7865800090576879696' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/7865800090576879696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/7865800090576879696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/07/chipul-din-oglinda.html' title='chipul din oglinda'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-1073818504249228645</id><published>2008-07-24T15:44:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T16:00:49.662+03:00</updated><title type='text'>liviu se insoara</title><content type='html'>Liviu se insoara..Desigur cu Ea .Inseamna ca o iubeste.Probabil ca Ea nu scartaie usa de la baie cand doarme el si nici nu-si tine parul prins in coada.Sau poate lui ii place cum ii sta ei cu parul prins.Ea nu-l contrazice niciodata,se face naevazuta cand el priveste la vreun film din seria RAZBOIUL STELELOR fara sa-l bata la cap si sa se fataie prin camera asa cum facea ea.Oare ii cere si Ei sa poarte dresuri negre,cu adeziv,cand fac sex?Oare o cunostea deja atunci cand ea purta dresuri negre pentru el.?Oare se gandea la Ea cand ii intorcea spatele imediat dupa si nu-i mai vorbea pana dimineata?&lt;br /&gt;Liviu se insoara..Oare cum ii place Ei cafeaua?Dulce sau amara.Probabil amara..de dragul lui.De dragul lui..de dragul lui.Oare de ce se mai gandeste la el?Nici in ruptul capului nu si-ar mai dori sa fie cu el.Nu ca el i-ar fi cerut asta vreodata din clipa in care i-a spus sa plece.O sunase o singura data sa o roage sa treaca pe la apartament.Era ora o9.10Atat mai putea focaliza atunci..inima ii lovea in piept,cuvintele o dureau oprite si ele in capul pieptului.Mai auzise ceva legat de periuta de dinti si de papucii ei in carouri.O sunase sa-i spuna sa treaca sa-si ia lucrurile..iar ea crezuse..&lt;br /&gt;Se dusese supusa si pleca cu o sacosa mare in mana stanga.Cu dreapta isi dadea nervos parul dupa urechi in timp ce cobora scarile proaspat spalate.&lt;br /&gt;Acum el se insoara ..iar ea este tot singura.Si era atat de convisa ca el este cel dificil,ca in afara de ea ,nimeni  nu i-ar fi suportat hachitele.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-1073818504249228645?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/1073818504249228645/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=1073818504249228645' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1073818504249228645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1073818504249228645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/07/liviu-se-insoara.html' title='liviu se insoara'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-6511720406889393554</id><published>2008-07-22T18:57:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T19:07:53.638+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>un organism de 70 kg ..contine 17 kg carbon,44 kg oxigen,7 kg hidrogen..14%azot,0,65 sulf,0,5-0,6fosfor,1,4-1,5 calciu..125 g clor,55 g sodiu..180 g potasiu 35 g magneziu..&lt;br /&gt;Este inca neclar cat anume cantareste sufletul unui om!:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-6511720406889393554?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/6511720406889393554/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=6511720406889393554' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6511720406889393554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6511720406889393554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/07/un-organism-de-70-kg.html' title=''/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-2812039771360458762</id><published>2008-06-29T23:03:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T23:15:49.315+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SGfrqEzD8UI/AAAAAAAAAKA/5FWnzEUdQ3Y/s1600-h/PICT7125.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217397801406951746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SGfrqEzD8UI/AAAAAAAAAKA/5FWnzEUdQ3Y/s320/PICT7125.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; imi fac bagajul..Maine plec in concediu..Crema,haine,costum de baie ,ciocolata..pentru drum..Neaparat ceva de citit..Mi-am cumparat Ma numesc rosu -Pamuk.Asa...un caiet de scris "povesti",aparatul foto..Sigur nu voi avea somn in noaptea asta.&lt;br /&gt;Nici nu stiu cu ce sa incep.Astept sa se termine meciul si...ma apuc de treaba!&lt;br /&gt;Catalina ,iti voi scrie o poveste cu aroma de copilarie.De copilaria noastra.Nu mai mi-ai dat de mult o tema...dar ma descurc.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-2812039771360458762?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/2812039771360458762/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=2812039771360458762' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/2812039771360458762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/2812039771360458762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/06/imi-fac-bagajul.html' title=''/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SGfrqEzD8UI/AAAAAAAAAKA/5FWnzEUdQ3Y/s72-c/PICT7125.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-800300214358360139</id><published>2008-06-28T09:45:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T10:06:13.585+03:00</updated><title type='text'>nebunul din apa</title><content type='html'>Sa fi tot avut vreo 30 de ani.Era inalt si foarte slab,atat de slab incat ii puteai zari cu usurinta traiectoria anatomica a oaselor.Firavul lui trup negricios era incununat de un cap osos,aproape acoperit de o barba neagra si deasa.Avea ceva din aspectul unui naufragiat,unui ratacit venit dintr-o lume trecuta.Pe abdomen se zarea cicatricea unei interventii chirurgicale,probabil efectuate in regim de urgenta.&lt;br /&gt;Naufragiatul era fericit.Se rostogolea in valuri,undeva foarte aproape de mal.Arata ca un copil,doar ca, barba aceea de calugar il dadea de gol.Din cand in cand se ridica in picioare,si atunci,valurile ii trageau slipul negru in jos.Nebunul,cu maini subtiri si degete lungi,isi tragea in sus singurul obiect vestimentar,cu lentoarea cu care iti alungi un fir  de par rebel de pe fata.Si iar se lua la tranta cu valurile sparte,si se rostogolea fericit in verdele lor nisipos.Radea cu tot chipul,radea cu mainile cu trupul lui mult prea slab.Barba lui cuvioasa ascundea un zambet de copil.Rostogolindu-se ,razand,tragand in sus de slipul tras de apa,ca intr-un joc ,nebunul era fericit.O leapsa cu valurile intr-o zi de iunie.&lt;br /&gt;Copilul captiv intr-un corp de adult se razboia cu marea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-800300214358360139?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/800300214358360139/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=800300214358360139' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/800300214358360139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/800300214358360139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/06/nebunul-din-apa.html' title='nebunul din apa'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-930032599058644568</id><published>2008-06-27T23:23:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T23:29:15.069+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Cred ca fiecare dintre noi a facut ,macar odata in viata lui ,un castel...de nisip.A fost odata un castel de nisip..Castelul nostru!&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SGVMsozdyPI/AAAAAAAAAJY/XKguU-uQNxc/s1600-h/PICT7138.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216660073129822450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SGVMsozdyPI/AAAAAAAAAJY/XKguU-uQNxc/s320/PICT7138.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-930032599058644568?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/930032599058644568/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=930032599058644568' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/930032599058644568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/930032599058644568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/06/cred-ca-fiecare-dintre-noi-facut-macar.html' title=''/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SGVMsozdyPI/AAAAAAAAAJY/XKguU-uQNxc/s72-c/PICT7138.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-4844078144695211695</id><published>2008-06-23T11:10:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T11:14:44.861+03:00</updated><title type='text'>ce voi face peste 10 ani?</title><content type='html'>M-a intrebat cineva daca sunt multumita de viata mea.El nu este.I-am raspuns ca da,sunt multumita."Ce te vezi facand peste 10 ani?''&lt;br /&gt;???Asta m-a pus pe ganduri.Chiar nu stiu.Tu ce vei face peste 10 ani??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-4844078144695211695?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/4844078144695211695/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=4844078144695211695' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4844078144695211695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4844078144695211695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/06/ce-voi-face-peste-10-ani.html' title='ce voi face peste 10 ani?'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-85434670473801670</id><published>2008-06-18T13:15:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T14:27:31.723+03:00</updated><title type='text'>un inger cazut 2</title><content type='html'>Si ingerul plangea,ghemuit pe trotuar,cu aripile stranse.Ar fi vrut sa zboare dar ele nu-l mai ascultau.Si, oricum,nu stia drumul spre Rai.Isi sterse lacrimile cu dosul palmei lui ingeresti si,sprijinindu-se de un zid,se ridica.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Mama!priveste!un inger..&lt;br /&gt;Infernul lumii se sparse brusc si vocea aceea de copil ii rasuna in urechi.&lt;br /&gt;Vazu un baietel cum se desprinse din stransoarea mainii parintesti si o zbughi spre el.&lt;br /&gt;-Esti chiar un inger!ingana ,cu ochii pironiti in sus spre el.&lt;br /&gt;-Andrei,intoarce-te imediat!nu am chef de glume,ne grabim!&lt;br /&gt;-dar,mami,uite..:un inger!&lt;br /&gt;Femeia il apuca de mana si il trase cu ea.&lt;br /&gt;Se departau repede.Baietelul privind inapoi,peste umar,ii zambi si ii facu semn cu manuta lui mica.&lt;br /&gt;In camera sa,un baietel isi spunea rugaciunea de seara.Ingenunchiat frumos langa pat,cu manutele impreunate;asa cum il invatase bunica.Ii era dor de ea,de mirosul ei de levantica magica,de mainile ei cu pete maronii.Acele pete maronii cu o mie de forme misterioase pe care el le stia cu ochii inchisi.Mainile acelea il mangaiau pe crestet cand ea ii spunea povesti.Bunica stia cele mai frumoase povesti.Si,inainte de culcare,dupa ce ''incalecau pe-o sa'',bunica scotea o poza mica si asezand-o intre palmele lui ,ii spunea:''ingerasul te asculta..''&lt;br /&gt;Iar el,cu palmele lipite una de alta,strangand intre ele micul talisman,rostea:''Inger,ingerasul meu...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In camera sa,un baietel dormea linistit.Langa el,pe perna,o poza mica,cu colturile ingalbenite.Din poza zambea frumos un inger cu aripile albe si stralucitoare.&lt;br /&gt;Prin fereastra ii privea un alt inger.Din coltul ochilor ii pornisera firisoare de apa sarata.Aripile lui erau iarasi curate si puternice.Se desprinse incet si se inalta spre cer.&lt;br /&gt;A fost odata un inger cazut.Oamenii l-au calcat in picioare fara mila.Dumnezeu i-a dat lacrima.Un copil l-a luat de mana si l-a dus acasa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-85434670473801670?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/85434670473801670/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=85434670473801670' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/85434670473801670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/85434670473801670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/06/un-inger-cazut-partea-doua.html' title='un inger cazut 2'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-7187724388939194583</id><published>2008-06-16T14:07:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T14:48:41.461+03:00</updated><title type='text'>un inger cazut</title><content type='html'>A fost odata ca niciodata un inger cazut.Mergand pe marginea Raiului,intr-un moment de neate ntie,cazuse.Dupa cateva rostogoliri bune,lovindu-se de norii albi si pufosi,s-a trezit ..pe pamant.&lt;br /&gt;S-a ridicat nedumerit,si-a scuturat aripile lui stralucitoare si a inceput sa priveasca in jurul lui,doar,doar o trece cineva cunoscut.&lt;br /&gt;Locul acela ii era total strein si oricat se chinuia el sa-si dea seama unde este nu reusea.Singura solutie era sa intrebe pe cineva,dar,cum nu trecea nimeni pe acolo, s-a hotarat sa porneasca el in cautarea salvatorului.&lt;br /&gt; Calca greu.Talpile lui nu cunosteau asfaltul.Totul in jurul lui era gri si murdar.Singurele culori, ce se vedeau ici colo,erau asa de sterse si triste incat aproape nu le recunostea.Putinele flori ce le putea zari aveau petalele decolorate si rupte.Nu erau pasari,nu erau ape...doar asfalt si beton gri.Si plus de asta,era asa o galagie infernala,incat ,bietul de el simtea ca inebuneste.Nu-si putea auzi respiratia,gandurile.Se simtea speriat si dezorientat."Oare unde sunt ceilalti?Unde s-au ascuns?De ce nu trece nimeni?"&lt;br /&gt; Infricosat,cu talpile inegrite si dureroase se opri intr-un colt si se sprijini de un zid.In fata lui aparu cineva ce-i semana.Numai ca avea aripile gri,fata murdara,ochii tristi.Plin de speranta,s-a desprins de langa zidul rece si s-a repezit  la celalalt.Deodata,s-a izbit de ceva si a cazut.Era iarasi jos,pe trotuar.Din ochi ii curgea o apa ciudata ,si palmele il usturau ingrozitor ."unde sunt?..Vreau acasa.."&lt;br /&gt;Privind in sus ,a inceput sa vada fiinte ciudate.Aveau ochi dar nu priveau.Ochii lor erau pustiiti.Erau incrancenati,cu capetele plecate in pamant.Pe umerii lor ,adusi in fata, nu purtau aripi.Mergeau grabitein toate directiile,ciocnindu-se unii de altii si trecand mai departe fara sa le pese.Mici,mari,mai slabi sau mai grasi..toti erau la fel.Umblau ca fermecati fara sa le pese de el: un inger cazut,cu aripile murdare.&lt;br /&gt; Il calcau in picioare..si nici macar nu aveau talpile goale..&lt;br /&gt;Apa aceea ciudata ce-i curgea din ochi nu se mai oprea.Isi daduse seama ca era sarata si calduta.&lt;br /&gt;Isi ridica privirea incercand sa priveasca cerul.Dar cerul nu era nicaieri.Acolo sus,unde ar fi trebuit sa fie,era tot gri.&lt;br /&gt;'' unde sunt Doamne?Unde Esti?Vreau acasa la mine..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A fost odata un inger cazut .Oamenii l-au calcat in picioare fara mila.Dumnezeu i-a dat lacrima.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Va urma.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-7187724388939194583?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/7187724388939194583/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=7187724388939194583' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/7187724388939194583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/7187724388939194583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/06/un-inger-cazut.html' title='un inger cazut'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-6532679781811030871</id><published>2008-06-09T14:42:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T14:47:07.577+03:00</updated><title type='text'>toarna-mi marea in palme</title><content type='html'>Toarna-mi marea in palme!&lt;br /&gt;Am sa-mi tin mainile caus&lt;br /&gt;sa-i primesc albastrul.&lt;br /&gt;Incet!&lt;br /&gt;Toarn-o incet sa nu-i tulburi pestii.&lt;br /&gt;sa nu tulburi adancul ei mut.&lt;br /&gt;Ea n-o sa tipe,&lt;br /&gt;Nu se va zbate.&lt;br /&gt;Va curge incet;incet si sarat.&lt;br /&gt;Voi sta in genunchi&lt;br /&gt;Cu palmele-inima deschisa&lt;br /&gt;Si sufletul gol.&lt;br /&gt;Gol de mine;gol de tine&lt;br /&gt;gol de trecut.Golit pentru ea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-6532679781811030871?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/6532679781811030871/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=6532679781811030871' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6532679781811030871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6532679781811030871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/06/toarna-mi-marea-in-palme.html' title='toarna-mi marea in palme'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-6471448038063008972</id><published>2008-06-04T15:06:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T15:36:54.412+03:00</updated><title type='text'>paradox</title><content type='html'>daca m-ar intreba cineva care este culoarea mea preferata..cred ca as raspunde:rosu.Floarea preferata..lacramioarele,trandafirii,freziile..macii..nu ma pot hotari.O melodie preferata...sunt o gramada!Nu pot spune ca am o mancare preferata,un cantec preferat ,o floare preferata,un oras preferat..Mi se pare ca asta ar minimaliza intr-un mod brutal capacitatea mea de a vedea lumea,ca m-ar saraci,m-ar limita etc.Daca de maine as fi pusa in situatia de a purta mereu o singura culoare,de a asculta mereu o singura melodie..etc...mi-ar fi imposibil!Si ar fi nedrept!Cu toate astea "trebuie''sa ne alegem un om cu care sa ne impartim viata,la bine si la rau...pana cand moartea ne va desparti..E adevarat ,oamenii sunt fiinte complexe,evolueaza,se schimba intr-un fel sau altul,secunda de secunda..dar totusi...sa alegi un singur om dintre atatia oameni!!??De unde sti care este??pe ce te bazezi?pe inima??pe instinct??pe ratiune??Bine,teoretic,te poti razgandi de cate ori vrei...dar practic...la un moment dat ramai la unul anume.De unde stim noi ca cel potrivit nu avea sa fie urmatorul??&lt;br /&gt;Nu as putea alege cu sufletul impacat: vara sau iarna,marea sau muntele,rosu sau albastru,ciocolata sau masline verzi..Dar trebuie sa alegem sa privim in fiecare dimineata in aceasi doi ochi alesi,sa sarutam aceleasi buze,sa ascultam aceleasi soapte,sa ne cuibarim in aceleasi brate,sa plangem pe acelasi umar..si tot asa..pana cand moartea ne va desparti.&lt;br /&gt;Ar fi multe de spus pe tema asta...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-6471448038063008972?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/6471448038063008972/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=6471448038063008972' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6471448038063008972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6471448038063008972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/06/paradox.html' title='paradox'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-1575343344017134167</id><published>2008-06-03T13:05:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T13:40:37.227+03:00</updated><title type='text'>miroase a verde</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SEUXkeMN_nI/AAAAAAAAAIA/pvp2V8_uLXE/s1600-h/PICT6890.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207594459470888562" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SEUXkeMN_nI/AAAAAAAAAIA/pvp2V8_uLXE/s320/PICT6890.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Ace verzi imi inteapa retina&lt;br /&gt;Miros de brad.&lt;br /&gt;Pamantul ud imi trage piciorul.&lt;br /&gt;Tu razi.&lt;br /&gt;O inima sapata-n copac&lt;br /&gt;Cu un briceag tocit.&lt;br /&gt;Si te sarut,miroase-a brad,&lt;br /&gt;A brad,si a pamant.&lt;br /&gt;Eram copii,&lt;br /&gt;Eram frumosi..&lt;br /&gt;O inima zgariata-n copac,&lt;br /&gt;Tocita amintire.&lt;br /&gt;Miroase a verde lipicios&lt;br /&gt;Stropit cu nostalgie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-1575343344017134167?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/1575343344017134167/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=1575343344017134167' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1575343344017134167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1575343344017134167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/06/miroase-verde.html' title='miroase a verde'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SEUXkeMN_nI/AAAAAAAAAIA/pvp2V8_uLXE/s72-c/PICT6890.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-8540378263612644230</id><published>2008-05-29T08:58:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T09:25:04.849+03:00</updated><title type='text'>marea..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SD5Go3CNAhI/AAAAAAAAAH4/IlSd8o3uevM/s1600-h/DSC00886.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205675887068774930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SD5Go3CNAhI/AAAAAAAAAH4/IlSd8o3uevM/s320/DSC00886.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SD5GMXCNAgI/AAAAAAAAAHw/qCfefW3uW7s/s1600-h/DSC00890.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205675397442503170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SD5GMXCNAgI/AAAAAAAAAHw/qCfefW3uW7s/s320/DSC00890.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;marea intra in casele parasite.cochilii frumoase ,candva locuite.Nu au tablouri vechi atarnate pe pereti,nu au pod cu amintiri..La usa nu gasesti perechea de papuci aruncata la intamplare,nu gasesti nimic care sa-ti aminteasca de ''proprieter''.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;marea vuieste prin ele,le spala de trecut si le stropeste cu apa vie!Ca o vesnica pomenire,clipa de clipa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-8540378263612644230?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/8540378263612644230/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=8540378263612644230' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8540378263612644230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8540378263612644230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/05/marea.html' title='marea..'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SD5Go3CNAhI/AAAAAAAAAH4/IlSd8o3uevM/s72-c/DSC00886.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-7816209610786832733</id><published>2008-05-28T10:51:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T11:33:10.033+03:00</updated><title type='text'>o fapta buna</title><content type='html'>Acum vreo cateva zile am ajutat un fluture rosu sa-si regaseasca drumul.Dadea din aripi neputincios si nu intelegea de ce nu poate inainta.Probabil ca ,pentru el,fereastra murdara ce-i bloca zborul nu exista..Nu o percepea ca pe un obstacol.Stia doar ca ,desi pastreaza aceasi bataie a aripilor ,acestea nu-l asculta.Initial l-am privit cateva secunde si..mi-am amintit de vremea insectarelor din copilarie.Apoi ,m-am ridicat pe varfuri,mi-am focalizat privirea pe tinta rosie si l-am prins de aripi.Aceleasi miscari din copilarie ..nu le uitasem desi a trecut mult timp de atunci.Numai ca ,acum,in loc sa-l tintuiesc nemiloasa cu un bold argintiu,i-am redat zborul.Eram fericita de-a dreptul,parca facusem o minune! Nu am spus nimanui..nu stiam cum..si nu era momentul!De cate ori m-o fi luat si pe mine cineva de ''aripi'' ..de cate ori varful vreunui''bold''nu o fi sfredelit bataia ''aripilor ''mele..Cine stie..??&lt;br /&gt;Oricum eram tare multumita si mandra de mine.Ma tot gandeam ca ar trebui sa fac mai des fapte bune.Am vrut sa dau cateva telefoane,unor persoane dragi,pe care nu le mai auzisem de ceva vreme..si sa le spun ca imi era dor de ele.Dar..vesnicul dar..efectiv nu am reusit sa fac acest lucru.Ori aparea ceva neprevazut,ori nu era ora potrivita si tot asa.&lt;br /&gt;oricum aveam in minte ideea ca vreau sa fac ceva bun,frumos..&lt;br /&gt;A sunat cineva la usa.Am deschis.In fata mea doi ochi negri,o femeie maruntica cu o expresie blajina.Era ponosit imbracata,cenusie si un pic adusa de spate.Cred ca era foarte tanara..desi nu arata.''Ajutati o mama a doi copii.."mi-a spus cu o voce disperata.Sincera sa fiu,nu prea deschid usa persoanelor necunoscute.Si chiar daca se intampla sa o deschid..o inchid la fel de repede,fara sa ascult nici o vorba.Acum..ma uitam surprinsa la faptura din fata mea,la mainile ei asezate cuminti pe langa corp,la ochii ei incercanati dar frumosi.''stai putin'' ,i-am zis,am incuiat usa si am scos 5 lei din geanta.M-am reintors si i-am intins banii"poftim'' A inceput sa-mi multumeasca,sa zica ceva de Dumnezeu..binecuvantare..Nu auzeam nimic,i-am spus larevedere si am inchis!Oare o asteptam?a fost o simpla coincidenta?nu stiu.Poate s-a dus in prima alimentara si si-a luat de baut..poate da banii aia altcuiva...poate nu vrea pur si simplu sa munceasca...nu stiu...Dar poate are doi copii acasa...si nu are cu ce sa-i hranesca...poate nu are o casa..poate cineva o bate...poate plange in fiecare noapte..poate a avut si ea vise..o fi iubit..Nu stiu...&lt;br /&gt;N-as vrea sa ajung vreodata sa fiu in locul ei...nu stiu ce as face..si nici nu vreau sa-mi imaginez!&lt;br /&gt;Dar pretuiesc mai mult ceea ce am..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-7816209610786832733?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/7816209610786832733/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=7816209610786832733' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/7816209610786832733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/7816209610786832733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/05/acum-vreo-cateva-zile-am-ajutat-un.html' title='o fapta buna'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-6627690222596250540</id><published>2008-05-27T12:17:00.001+03:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T12:19:51.709+03:00</updated><title type='text'>un sclav frumos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SDvSIXCNAcI/AAAAAAAAAHE/apGhO7WHtGc/s1600-h/PICT4301.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204984835420783042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SDvSIXCNAcI/AAAAAAAAAHE/apGhO7WHtGc/s320/PICT4301.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-6627690222596250540?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/6627690222596250540/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=6627690222596250540' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6627690222596250540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6627690222596250540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/05/un-sclav-frumos.html' title='un sclav frumos'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SDvSIXCNAcI/AAAAAAAAAHE/apGhO7WHtGc/s72-c/PICT4301.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-2133649242947110813</id><published>2008-05-27T11:34:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T11:57:09.191+03:00</updated><title type='text'>trandafirul negru</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SDvH3nCNAbI/AAAAAAAAAG8/Q_cpq8lsTfI/s1600-h/PICT6914.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204973552541696434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SDvH3nCNAbI/AAAAAAAAAG8/Q_cpq8lsTfI/s320/PICT6914.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"NU STUDIATI FRUMOSUL DECAT IN GENUNCHI"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-2133649242947110813?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/2133649242947110813/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=2133649242947110813' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/2133649242947110813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/2133649242947110813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/05/trandafirul-negru.html' title='trandafirul negru'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SDvH3nCNAbI/AAAAAAAAAG8/Q_cpq8lsTfI/s72-c/PICT6914.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-5554047161044579600</id><published>2008-05-21T10:01:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T10:15:26.781+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Se anunta vreme rea.Cu ploaie si vant.Dumnezeu si-a tras deja obloanele gri.Nu deranjati!..&lt;br /&gt;Azi este sarbatoare..deci nu se munceste!Tocmai de asta ..azi ma apuc de invatat! Sau..asa ar trebui..Astept un semn!&lt;br /&gt;Imi place ploaia..privita prin sticla!Sunt dependenta de soare!fie el si cu dinti!soare sa fie!&lt;br /&gt;cred ca era randul meu sa scriu..nu mai stiu!sti ca nu sunt atenta la amanunte..desi..parca tot eu am scris si ultima scrisoare!si penultima..Si..daca tot veni vorba,eu ti-am scris si prima scrisoare!Mai sti?scrisoarea aceea in care iti spuneam ca imi este dor de tine!Si..ca as vrea sa-ti spun o groaza de lucruri..Nu-mi mai citeste nimeni povesti la culcare.Hainele mele raman mereu acolo unde le pun..La fel si peria..parfumul..creioanele..&lt;br /&gt;Am sa-ti mai spun si astazi ca imi este dor de tine..si..ma pregatesc sa-ti cumpar ceva frumos de ziua ta!Astept un semn!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-5554047161044579600?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/5554047161044579600/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=5554047161044579600' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/5554047161044579600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/5554047161044579600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/05/se-anunta-vreme-rea.html' title=''/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-5295035185249076576</id><published>2008-05-16T10:19:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T11:03:19.145+03:00</updated><title type='text'>plastic</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SC013pjpu2I/AAAAAAAAAGE/kPxLp7WcSMU/s1600-h/PICT6824.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200872374847257442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SC013pjpu2I/AAAAAAAAAGE/kPxLp7WcSMU/s320/PICT6824.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Un copil poate avea totul.A fi "normal'' ,pentru el,nu inseamna nimic.Poate fi print,fantoma,supererou,printesa,vrajitoare,arici,dinozaur...orice!Nimic nu-l poate opri sa fie ce vrea el.Si cand vrea el.Plange.Rade.Striga.Spune ''nu''oricui vrea el fara sa-i pese.Iti spune ca esti gras,urat,fraier,ca mirosi urat..&lt;br /&gt;Noi invatam copiii sa minta.Ii invatam sa fie ca noi.Ii invatam ce e viata si apoi ii criticam.Ei sunt de vina ca a disparut iubirea chiar daca ,de multe ori ,se nasc din ura si violenta.Ii acuzam ca sunt superficiali,ciudati.Noi i-am invatat sa fie asa.Ii mintim cu zambetul pe buze,pentru binele lor.Ne mint si ei apoi..pentru binele nostru.Nu-i ascultam,nu-i intelegem.Vrem sa fie supradotati,sa fie cei mai buni.Asa cum noi nu am fost niciodata!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;   Copiii sunt jucariile noastre.De multe ori uitam ca nu sunt de plastic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-5295035185249076576?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/5295035185249076576/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=5295035185249076576' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/5295035185249076576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/5295035185249076576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/05/plastic.html' title='plastic'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SC013pjpu2I/AAAAAAAAAGE/kPxLp7WcSMU/s72-c/PICT6824.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-5390457130417412922</id><published>2008-05-10T00:42:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-05-10T00:53:16.259+03:00</updated><title type='text'>somn amanat</title><content type='html'>imi e tare somn..dar parca nu vreau sa dorm.luna e o unghie taiata si aruncata la intamplare.parca si cainii cartierului sunt mai discreti in noaptea asta.as vrea sa citesc ceva,o carte noua,dar nu ma atrage niciuna.am stat azi vreo 30 de minute intr-o librarie cu gandul de a-mi alege''o prietena'' dar nu m-a convins nimic.am admirat apoi castanii infloriti.tinuta lor festiva m-a atras intotdeauna.despre castane..ce sa mai spun.aveam toate buzunarele de toamna pline de stralucirea lor maronie si neteda.le pictam,le strangeam in pumn in timp ce ma gandeam la el,le uitam pe pervaz..asteptandu-l...&lt;br /&gt;  bine...ma duc la culcare..!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-5390457130417412922?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/5390457130417412922/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=5390457130417412922' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/5390457130417412922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/5390457130417412922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/05/somn-amanat.html' title='somn amanat'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-547716292714376931</id><published>2008-05-07T16:09:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T17:01:13.668+03:00</updated><title type='text'>baiatul de la 6</title><content type='html'>Ii placea sa stea asa,degeaba,sa lase timpul si orele sa hotarasca in locul lui,sa-l surprinda.De obicei nu-l surprindea mai nimic,totul se desfasura cam la fel in fiecare zi.Se trezea cam la aceasi ora,se intindea cam in acelasi mod,cu mainile ridicate desupra capului,cu pumnii rotiti inspre interior..Intra in aceasi baie,mereu albastra,cu fereastra prea mica si oglinda mereu plina de dare de origini diferite.Dare de aburi,sapun,aer,saliva  stranutata,spuma de ras..de toate.Nu-i placea sa spele,sa faca ordine.Nu suporta mirosul de clor ce-i amintea de copilaria lui bolnava.Nu-i placea nici mizeria..dar se invatase cu ea.Strangea doar atat cat era nevoie,cat sa poata sa-si duca existenta lui monotona..&lt;br /&gt;Si cafeaua era in fiecare zi la fel.Neagra si amara.Cafea si atat.Cat de multa.Isi turna drogul zilnic intr-o cana fara coada si se aseza pe scaunul de langa ferestra bucatariei.Statea acolo ore intrgi si privea lumea de sus.Cafea si fum de tigara.Se ridica doar sa-si mai umple cana lui ciobita.Nu avea perdea dar oricum nu-i trebuia.Nu-l observa nimeni,nimeni nu ridica privirea spre el.Lumea are treaba...nu ca el..El era baiatu' de la 6 ,cum ii spuneau vecinii.Baiat bun,dar cam ciudat.Nu se incadra in tiparul scarii dar nici nu deranja pe nimeni.Era pur si simplu baiatu'de la 6 si atat.&lt;br /&gt; Niste batai in usa il facura sa tresara.habar nu avea cum''batea''usa lui.Isi puse cana pe pervazul lat si prafuit si deschise usa.In fata lui o fata cu ochii verzi .Avea un tricou maroniu si o salopeta de blugi ,albastru inchis.&lt;br /&gt;''te plictisesti?'' se auzi vocea ei ''pot sa intru?''privirea lui cazu pe degetele ei de la picioare..avea niste papuci cu capsuni ..care nu aveau nici o legatura cu restul tinutei ei.&lt;br /&gt;''vezi ca pica scrumul pe covor..''&lt;br /&gt;Se dadu la o parte din cadrul usii si o lasa sa intre.Fata isi lasa capsunile la intrarea in apartament si se indrepta spre bucatarie.Se opri in dreptul ferestrei:"deci asa se vede de la tine! ma gandeam eu..''&lt;br /&gt;"ma cheama Claudia'' ii spuse si se apropie de el intinzandu-si capul aproape de gatul lui.Dadu usor din nari,parca adulmecandu-l.''Ma gandeam eu ca asa mirosi.."&lt;br /&gt;''a ce?cum asa miros? la ce te gandeai tu?''&lt;br /&gt;"a tigari,cafea si singuratate"&lt;br /&gt;"singuratate?! singuratatea miroase?"&lt;br /&gt;"da..A ..si a vopsea.Pictezi ,nu-i asa?&lt;br /&gt;"da..pictez..de unde sti?ne cunoastem?&lt;br /&gt;''pai..ne-am mai vazut.Stau vizavi,la blocul de vizavi..dar la 7."&lt;br /&gt;''m-ai vazut la fereastra..inteleg..''&lt;br /&gt;''te-am vazut la fereastra,la magazinul de jos cand iti cumparai tigari si cafea.Te-am intrebat odata cat e ceasul si te-ai uitat la mana stanga ,si ,desi nu aveai ceas,ai zis fara :un sfert.Nici macar nu ai privit sa vezi cine te-a intrebat..Aveai mainile murdare de vopsea..m-am gandit ca pictezi.Ti se potriveste.."&lt;br /&gt;"mereu vorbesti asa mult?"&lt;br /&gt;fata incepu sa rada ''hai,nu-mi dai o cafea? mi-ai facut pofta''&lt;br /&gt;''trage un scaun aici,langa al meu.Fumezi?''&lt;br /&gt;''nu..dar poti sa-mi dai o tigara.''&lt;br /&gt;.."niste zahar,te rog?este amara rau cafeaua asta..''&lt;br /&gt;''da.stiu.asa imi place ,amara.&lt;br /&gt;''poftim tigara,zahar..mai vrei ceva?''&lt;br /&gt;''ma saruti?''&lt;br /&gt;Si buzele lor se gasira,amar si dulce,amar si iar dulce.gust de tutun,de fum.,de nicotina si saliva.Mainile lui ii cautau corpul pe sub salopeta albastra.Mainile ei se prinsera de parul lui intr-o inclestare asteptata de mult.&lt;br /&gt;O ferestra,doua cani cu cafea amara,o punga cu zahar fin si un pachet  de tigari.&lt;br /&gt;Gresie rece,piele fierbinte.Tavan alb,parul lui negru .Albastru,verde,soapte si liniste.In hol asteptau niste papuci de casa cu capsuni .&lt;br /&gt;Cat de ''la fel'' incepuse ziua asta pentru ''baiatu' de la 6''!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-547716292714376931?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/547716292714376931/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=547716292714376931' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/547716292714376931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/547716292714376931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/05/baiatul-de-la-6.html' title='baiatul de la 6'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-1258985790075291061</id><published>2008-05-01T23:46:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T00:01:53.444+03:00</updated><title type='text'>rugaminte</title><content type='html'>ce a fost asta!?ce ai vrut sa inteleg??stiam ca totul se poate termina intr-o clipa..si mai sti ca pot indura multe..Dar asta nu vreau sa o indur!Te rog eu mult,te rog cum nu te-am mai rugat de mult ceva...te rog sa lasi lucrurile asa cum sunt!Nu vreau sa mai vad privirea aceea speriata,nu vreau sa mai aud plansetul acela al mortii.Nu vreau sa-mi amintesc gustul lacrimilor de pe urma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ce sunt eu...un om ca multi altii..stiu si asta.Dar pentru el sunt totul..iar ea pentru mine inseamna foarte mult.Am platit amandoua ..am pierdut amandoua mult,dar ne avem una pe alta.si avem nevoie una de alta..&lt;br /&gt;  Cum se schimba totul in cateva minute!!!Cat de tari ne credem si cat de mici suntem in realitate!!ce dependenti de multe suntem!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-1258985790075291061?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/1258985790075291061/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=1258985790075291061' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1258985790075291061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1258985790075291061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/05/rugaminte.html' title='rugaminte'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-2854677771947541434</id><published>2008-04-24T23:34:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T23:50:15.732+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>in seara asta este foarte frig...Aproape ca-mi vine sa ma uit pe geam sa vad cum cad frunzele ..Mi-am pus un hanorac,soste..Cred ca am chef de un ceai cald.Ceai african.Am aprins si un betisor parfumat,poate face cald..&lt;br /&gt; Imi amintesc de vremea cand eram copil,in casa strabunicii.Seara beam ceai fierbinte(nu african)Parca si vad cum imi aducea cana de ceai pe o tava,cu zaharul alaturi si nelipsitul servetel alb.De multe ori,dupa cina,ma bagam in pat si-mi puneam cana de ceai pe lada patului.Lada aceea pe care gaseam tot ce aveam nevoie..cateva carti,niste pixuri,o veioza,cate o alifie buna la toate..si multe alte nimicuri atat de importante.Stateam invelita cu plapuma pana la gura,plapuma aceea galbena cu cearceaf brodat si apretat,si ma uitam la televizor.Televizorul alb negru prin care vedea o fetita lumea.Si puneam tara la cale..pana adormeam.Si era asa cald si bine si cred ca in patul acela am visat mereu frumos.&lt;br /&gt;Imi e dor de strabunica mea.Si de camera aceea de demult,de patul cu lada si de cana cu ceai fierbinte.&lt;br /&gt;Nu imi mai e frig...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-2854677771947541434?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/2854677771947541434/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=2854677771947541434' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/2854677771947541434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/2854677771947541434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/04/in-seara-asta-este-foarte-frig.html' title=''/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-1305389823408940908</id><published>2008-04-24T13:00:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T13:20:10.657+03:00</updated><title type='text'>cantec cu autor necunoscut</title><content type='html'>Cantecul acela imi rasuna din nou in urechi.Oare voi sti vreodata cine a scris cantecul asta,ma intrebam hotarata sa fac tot posibilul sa aflu.Si fredonam acordurile lui,in speranta ca autorul ma va auzi si va aprecia acest lucru.Tot corpul meu tresarea,fiecare celula asculta in tacere melodia apoi cautam impreuna refrenul.&lt;br /&gt;  Cu fiecare zi ce trecea mai memoram un vers,o strofa..cantecul asta era mai lung decat mi se parea la inceput.Dar avea o vraja a lui care ma hipnotiza si nu ma lasa sa-l uit.Priveam luna murmurand versurile sale,ma prindea soarele la strofa urmatoare,si iar luna..si iar soarele.&lt;br /&gt; Oare exista un cantec mai frumos ca acesta?Uimitor dar nimeni nu-l auzise vreodata.Pe autor nu-l cunostea nimeni.Dar eu il voi cunoaste..&lt;br /&gt;  Intr-o zi,m-ai auzit fredonandu-l si ai tresarit.Era cantecul tau .Era cantecul inimii tale ,iar eu il auzisem intr-o noapte cand am adormit la pieptul tau.De atunci invatam cate un vers,cate o strofa...Deci tu erai autorul!Ce fericita sunt ca te cunosc!De acum il vom canta impreuna.&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. nu ma lasa sa uit versurile...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-1305389823408940908?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/1305389823408940908/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=1305389823408940908' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1305389823408940908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1305389823408940908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/04/cantec-cu-autor-necunoscut.html' title='cantec cu autor necunoscut'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-3068270833019503667</id><published>2008-04-23T08:34:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T08:39:26.317+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SA7Kt1KtjwI/AAAAAAAAAFc/PMZCHpO0Pn8/s1600-h/PICT6621.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192310309119692546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SA7Kt1KtjwI/AAAAAAAAAFc/PMZCHpO0Pn8/s320/PICT6621.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; am doua variante:sa o privesc si atat sau sa o suflu usor..si sa dispara! a doua este mai tentanta..desigur!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-3068270833019503667?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/3068270833019503667/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=3068270833019503667' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/3068270833019503667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/3068270833019503667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/04/am-doua-variantesa-o-privesc-si-atat.html' title=''/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SA7Kt1KtjwI/AAAAAAAAAFc/PMZCHpO0Pn8/s72-c/PICT6621.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-4271591800086901778</id><published>2008-04-22T21:10:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T21:18:23.110+03:00</updated><title type='text'>o seara a patimilor</title><content type='html'>Afara este o vijelie cumplita.Copacii se se zbat asemeni unor cai salbatici  ce incearca sa-si arunce imblanzitorii din sa.asemeni unor corpuri posedate la auzul slujbei de exorcizare.Vantul sufla naprasnic iar marea urla infiorator.&lt;br /&gt;In casa arde candela.Doamne lumineaza-ne sufletul!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-4271591800086901778?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/4271591800086901778/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=4271591800086901778' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4271591800086901778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4271591800086901778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/04/o-seara-patimilor.html' title='o seara a patimilor'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-1764926149904308266</id><published>2008-04-21T15:02:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T15:29:23.851+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ieri a fost un episod pilot din vara...Si pentru ca era duminica,duminica floriilor chiar..pentru ca era ziua mea(m-am nascut intr-o duminica de florii..),pentru ca era soare..si penru multe alte motive am fugit din oras!Undeva intr-un sat,pe langa constanta,la casa de vacanta a unor prieteni.&lt;br /&gt; Pe drum am aflat ca a venit primavara!Vazusem eu prin oras copaci inverziti,lalele,panselute si alti vestitori ai primaverii.Urmarisem chiar ,de la balcon ce-i drept,carduri de pelicani in drumul lor spre delta.Cu toate astea...de abia ieri,pe drum ,am aflat ca a venit primavara!Am vazut atat galben,verde,negru fertil..incat aproape ca imi venea sa cobor din masina si sa ma tavalesc pe camp.Am vazut berze,am vazut mielusei,am vazut boboci de rata...AM VAZUT!&lt;br /&gt;   Cand am ajuns la destinatie si am coborat din masina am redescoperit si si simtul olfactiv.Mirosea a iarba,a pamant intors de sapa,a muguri de plop.Mirosea a liliac si lacramioare.Mirosea a aer si camp!Si desigur..am inceput sa aud!Ciripitul pasarilor este acoperit de zgomotul masinilor din oras..Aici pasarile vorbeau cu mine.&lt;br /&gt; Am baut cea mai rece si buna apa si mi-am redefinit  gustul.Si apoi,pentru intregirea simturilor  ,m-am asezat pe iarba si am privit cerul.&lt;br /&gt;   Acum sunt in birou,ating niste litere albe..si stiu ca a venit primavara!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-1764926149904308266?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/1764926149904308266/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=1764926149904308266' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1764926149904308266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1764926149904308266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/04/ieri-fost-un-episod-pilot-din-vara.html' title=''/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-2376131607967483624</id><published>2008-04-20T22:49:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T22:55:13.088+03:00</updated><title type='text'>luna plina</title><content type='html'>luna ma priveste pe geamul de la baie.E rotunda si trista.Eu sunt fericita..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-2376131607967483624?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/2376131607967483624/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=2376131607967483624' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/2376131607967483624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/2376131607967483624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/04/luna-plina.html' title='luna plina'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-623686738594897169</id><published>2008-04-19T20:26:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T20:57:30.261+03:00</updated><title type='text'>regina egiptului</title><content type='html'>Cu capul lipit de geamul autobuzului,priveam desertul.Nisip cat vezi cu ochii.fara copaci,fara apa..fara nimic si in acelasi timp asa de captivant.&lt;br /&gt;  Cu capul infasurat intr-un batic arabesc,alb negru,cu fata arsa de soare si buzele sarate ma simteam cea mai frumoasa femeie din lume.cea mai frumoasa si cea mai fericita.Eram regina pestilor din marea rosie,regina egiptului.Inotasem printre corali,printre pesti colorati,printre arici de mare.Intr-o apa turcoaz,intr-o lume magica parca rupta din o mie si una de nopti.&lt;br /&gt;    Autocarul se indrepta spre hotel.Din cand in cand,pe sosea,apareau niste posturi de control.Niste ''casute''mici din piatra,intr-o stare jalnica de degradare.Un birou rupt si murdar si un scaun..asta era mobilierul .Unul  sau mai multi "paznici" cu arme priveau masinile care treceau.In autobuz era liniste.De-o parte si de alta a soselei se conturau,din loc in loc,viitoare complexe hoteliere..Se construia o lume noua !Muncitorii,in haine traditionale..cenusii din cap pana in picioare..carau fiare enorme..bucati de materiale.Totul se derula sub ochii mei ca intr-un film documentar.La un moment dat ,pe marginea soselei ,am vazut doi copilasi.Doi baietei,pana in 10 ani,imbracati in ''rochiile'' acelea lungi ,caracteristice portului arab.Stateau cuminti,inghesuiti unul in altul,si priveau turistii.Ochii lor mari m-au patruns in suflet.Sarmanii de ei..nu stiu de minimax,de oua cu surprize..de petreceri in trenulet..de clovni.Se uitau la noi ca la a 8-a minune..&lt;br /&gt;          Imi este dor de egipt si mi-am promis ca ma voi intoarce acolo.sunt multe lucruri pe care nu le-am vazut.Imi este dor de Marea Rosie.Vreau sa fiu iarasi regina egiptului,asa cum ma strigau ei,oamenii atat de primitori pe care i-am intalnit acolo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-623686738594897169?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/623686738594897169/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=623686738594897169' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/623686738594897169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/623686738594897169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/04/regina-egiptului.html' title='regina egiptului'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-6053190718850859450</id><published>2008-04-18T12:25:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T12:47:51.188+03:00</updated><title type='text'>micul print</title><content type='html'>''...&lt;br /&gt;-cine esti?spuse micul print.Esti foarte frumoasa...&lt;br /&gt;-Eu sunt o vulpe,spuse vulpea.&lt;br /&gt;-Vino sa te joci cu mine,ii propuse micul print.Sunt atat de trist..&lt;br /&gt;-Nu ma pot juca cu tine,zise vulpea.Nu sunt imblanzita.&lt;br /&gt;-Ah!Iarta-ma,zise micul print.&lt;br /&gt;Dar ,dupa ce se gandi un pic,adauga:&lt;br /&gt;-Ce inseamna ''a imblanzi''?&lt;br /&gt;-Nu esti de pe aici,zise vulpea.Ce cauti?&lt;br /&gt;-Ii caut pe oameni,spuse micul print.Ce inseamna ''a imblanzi''?&lt;br /&gt;-Oamenii ,zise vulpea,au pusti si vaneaza.E foarte suparator!Mai cresc si gaini.E singura lor parte mai interesanta.Cauti gaini?&lt;br /&gt;-Nu,zise micul print.Caut prieteni.Ce inseamna''a imblanzi''?&lt;br /&gt;_E ceva uitat de multa vreme,zise vulpea.Asta inseamna ''a crea legaturi..''&lt;br /&gt;-A crea legaturi?&lt;br /&gt;-Binenteles,zise vulpea.Tu nu esti deocamdata pentru mine decat un baietel foarte asemanator cu o suta de mii de alti baietei.Si nu am nevoie de tine.Si nici tu nu ai nevoie de mine.Eu nu sunt pentru tine decat o vulpe asemanatoare cu o suta de mii de alte vulpi.Dar,daca ma imblanzesti,vom avea nevoie unul de celalalt.Tu vei fi pentru mine fara seaman pe lume.Eu voi fi pentru tine fara seaman pe lume..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANTOINE DE SAINT-EXUPERY&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-6053190718850859450?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/6053190718850859450/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=6053190718850859450' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6053190718850859450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/6053190718850859450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/04/micul-print.html' title='micul print'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-4648369640043386204</id><published>2008-04-17T10:01:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T10:10:17.252+03:00</updated><title type='text'>striga ploaia,iubito!</title><content type='html'>Iubito,te rog,striga ploaia&lt;br /&gt;    Si spune-i sa cada mai tare.&lt;br /&gt;    Deschide, iubito ,fereastr!&lt;br /&gt;    Fereastra albastra a camerei tale.&lt;br /&gt;    Si frigul lasa-l sa intre&lt;br /&gt;     Frigul amar,de toamna tarzie.&lt;br /&gt;    Hai pleaca iubito,si usa incuie.&lt;br /&gt;    Incui-o si vino la mine!&lt;br /&gt;    Promit ca de mana te-oi tine,&lt;br /&gt;    Promit c-am sa tac;prima data!&lt;br /&gt;    Hai vino iubito la mine..&lt;br /&gt;    Mai spune-mi povestea o data!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-4648369640043386204?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/4648369640043386204/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=4648369640043386204' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4648369640043386204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/4648369640043386204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/04/striga-ploaiaiubito.html' title='striga ploaia,iubito!'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-1450689188085269469</id><published>2008-04-16T17:13:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T17:25:09.392+03:00</updated><title type='text'>blue</title><content type='html'>Blue este furnica mea.Nu este o furnica adevarata,este o furnica de jucarie,dar este furnica mea.O cheama asa pentru ca este..albastra...&lt;br /&gt;   Ieri,furnica mea "de calatorie'' ,m-a certat.Am uitat sa va spun ca ea a fost insotitoarea mea in toate calatoriile mele mai importante.Statea cuminte invaliza,intre haine ,cosmetice si ciocolata..Cand ajungeam la destinatie iesea curioasa si isi lua locul ei pe noptiera de langa pat..&lt;br /&gt;Ieri,in timp ce faceam curat intr-un morman de jucarii,am gasit-o pe ea,pe Blue.a privit cu ochii ei mari,albastri desigur,si parca ma intreba daca am uitat-o.''Sunt doar o jucarie intr-un sac de jucarii?''&lt;br /&gt;   Cred ca a trecut ceva de la ultima ei calatorie.Biata furnica a ramas acasa,intre masinute,ursuleti si alte ''necuvantatoare''.&lt;br /&gt;     Noua,oamenilor mari,ne lipsesc jucariile.Dar nu ne dam seama de asta..nu avem timp!Ne grabim mereu su uitam ca undeva,candva ,au fost niste copii care purtau numele noastre.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-1450689188085269469?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/1450689188085269469/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=1450689188085269469' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1450689188085269469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/1450689188085269469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/04/blue.html' title='blue'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-3746327097323738336</id><published>2008-04-15T12:22:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T12:42:29.768+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Stau in birou ,cu o carte de neurologie in fata si cu o cafea intr-o cana cu pisici negre.Cred ca am citit pagina asta de 2 ori dar...nu am retinut nimic.Gandurile imi zboara aiurea.Mi-am amintit de o dedicatie primita pe prima pagina a unei carti de versuri.Dedicatie din partea autorului:"pentru un trandafir pe care l-am vazut plangand" .Eram intr-un moment greu al vietii mele.Lansam o carte de versuri scrise de sora mea.Numai ca ,ea nu era cu noi.Ne privea de sus,dintre ingeri(Vreau sa cred ca ingerii exista)&lt;br /&gt;Cum mai zboara timpul..&lt;br /&gt; Suna telefonul..ma duc sa raspund..O voce feminina turuie ceva..un nume..o firma un sondaj..Incerc sa o intrerup,ii spun ca nu ne intereseaza..Ma contrazice..Imi spune ca ar vrea sa vorbeasca cu o persoana de sex masculin cu vrasta cuprinsa intre..Da ..si eu as vrea sa vorbesc cu Lenny Kravitz..50 %rezolvat(eu vreau)..&lt;br /&gt;    Of..ce faceam??! A..invatam la neurologie..&lt;br /&gt;Cred ca pisicile negre de pe cana mea sunt de vina!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-3746327097323738336?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/3746327097323738336/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=3746327097323738336' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/3746327097323738336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/3746327097323738336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/04/stau-in-birou-cu-o-carte-de-neurologie.html' title=''/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-8590011930945044314</id><published>2008-04-14T17:44:00.000+03:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T17:46:44.780+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SANuN6dD8nI/AAAAAAAAADs/QoDF18FdtOg/s1600-h/PICT2325.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189112380969448050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SANuN6dD8nI/AAAAAAAAADs/QoDF18FdtOg/s320/PICT2325.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-8590011930945044314?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/8590011930945044314/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=8590011930945044314' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8590011930945044314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/8590011930945044314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/04/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SSZsv8e_z1U/SANuN6dD8nI/AAAAAAAAADs/QoDF18FdtOg/s72-c/PICT2325.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4736958923997845888.post-2778728058217680059</id><published>2008-04-14T17:15:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T17:22:55.080+03:00</updated><title type='text'>ploua,ploua..</title><content type='html'>babele se oua!asa cantam cand eram copil.Intre timp babele au evoluat..Am vazut de dimineata o doamna ,trecuta bine de a doua maturitate,...cu batic si ochelari cu rama groasa...cantand..din nas....Si asta nu oriunde ,ci la antena 1 ..la razvan si dani.Canta la chitara..mandolina..versuri ticluite de ea,cu substrat si tot ce vrei...&lt;br /&gt;      Si afara ploua..ploua!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4736958923997845888-2778728058217680059?l=turnulivoriu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/feeds/2778728058217680059/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4736958923997845888&amp;postID=2778728058217680059' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/2778728058217680059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4736958923997845888/posts/default/2778728058217680059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://turnulivoriu.blogspot.com/2008/04/plouaploua.html' title='ploua,ploua..'/><author><name>monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14320931669243417831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
