Best wishes ...
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Where To Buy Pinata In Bangkok
Our greatest desire at this time is that the celebration of the beginning of a new year, is for each of you a great blessing.
May God continue to pour out upon you gifts and talents to enable them to carry their message of salvation to all those around them with tolerance, respect, charity and mercy.
Thank you for your love and support during this year. Receive from us a special blessing and a fraternal embrace full of Christian love and friendship.
happy and prosperous 2009
Cesar and Laura Nava.
Venezuela.
Venezuela.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Milena Velba Bus Movies
Foot / Social Poetry
Habré
die standing in front of it facing the sun
Without fear of opening the eyes
When one hundred beams of fury
Burn my skin Open
my chest And I oppress the soul.
Then, I will live today!
For all
furies seize the song is sad
melancholic song out of my chest
Is it not rather die in your hands
To not raise the sea
In a duel of sad soul. I know
die
would like nothing because I was born to be an angel
that opens their land, to live life.
is that it is my punishment
Crucified
waves in my soul will be a sip of your wine liquor
Friendly
caressing my many regrets. Perhaps
cigars are my Aprils
The hive of my martyrdom.
And the dead
hear screaming and more value battle!
but death who dwells in himself whether to talk
not breathing. Are they chips
life's blows
Pieces of human anger that I most like to be inhabiting
myself Not to forget my revenge
Tell me I've seen "mourn yesterday?
Because I cried and did not cost anything.
be there Friday
That burned like today
tears That leave us
In the distance there
My mother a day, saw them go
When agora
A duel in their footsteps.
know will die standing
And not afraid of anything. 
Habré
die standing in front of it facing the sun
Without fear of opening the eyes
When one hundred beams of fury
Burn my skin Open
my chest And I oppress the soul.
Then, I will live today!
For all
furies seize the song is sad
melancholic song out of my chest
Is it not rather die in your hands
To not raise the sea
In a duel of sad soul. I know
die
would like nothing because I was born to be an angel
that opens their land, to live life.
is that it is my punishment
Crucified
waves in my soul will be a sip of your wine liquor
Friendly
caressing my many regrets. Perhaps
cigars are my Aprils
The hive of my martyrdom.
And the dead
hear screaming and more value battle!
but death who dwells in himself whether to talk
not breathing. Are they chips
life's blows
Pieces of human anger that I most like to be inhabiting
myself Not to forget my revenge
Tell me I've seen "mourn yesterday?
Because I cried and did not cost anything.
be there Friday
That burned like today
tears That leave us
In the distance there
My mother a day, saw them go
When agora
A duel in their footsteps.
know will die standing
And not afraid of anything.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Camilla Rodrigues Trans Brazil
POESIA EROTICA - PART I
Published in Brazil in 2002.
THE FACES OF THE NIGHT Lying
very quiet early morning in the face of the moonlight solo
neutral in my fantasy made in raising the rarity tempus
be yours and you mine. Invading the fourth
macabre
your fragile hairless sex desiring
deliver to the imagination of my conscience pernicious
unleashing the passions that nearly hit
maybe a look or a smile
enough to reach the abyss where the vast realm of authentic
sunset horizon
sow in our lives an orchard land, sea and stars live.
encroach impatiently stinking blanket warmed
the finding my body go through miserable and ever virgin
devoured by the mood on the night of masturbation
breaking the restful sleep and no one breaks the pleasure of listening
be your secret love.
We connected with our bodies sodomite pavement marking
the youth of my bare chest with desire
hungry nibbling my lips are
bless you enter you in the wreck as deep down in your belly. Shaking like dying
dove expect the unexpected
gave me your flower-laden native
Starfire
holy lands desecrated by the antichrist not get medieval
stop my progress, nor did they stop the march of the crusaders in the desert
who conquered the scarlet shade of twilight
feeling the sensation of her red lips
the same image in my phallus
left a stain and red fluorescent
pride to get out of your insides
and sad, because it is the first and only in your life.
live idle in bed with smooth moving
wobbles getting amnesia by fighting melee
share the fear of not breastfeeding
gladly move our burning passions with euphoria
to find safety at all magnitudes and directions used
stepped interior spaces revolution was so tenuous
symphony of your breathing
innocence there on fire, as our bodies naked virgin.
erogenous now dragging him
stroking the limbs, chest moans filled my street
my dream is vague very vague.
I'm eating, without pause
obscenities in your small and unique
pubis but delirious satisfaction and pride of
makes my soul to serve both Scots and lingerie sex
I speak of small and beautiful
perversions because they also must die radiant
fervently shaking off the edge of the lair
without uttering a word when we spit it wishes
spring from your lips moist with chastity. Lone
prostrate to the beauty of the night
insinuating just the edge of your skin
soar through the unholy desire to touch and kiss
the face of my body, so cold you usually ask me
quietly making love to a again. 
Published in Brazil in 2002.
THE FACES OF THE NIGHT Lying
very quiet early morning in the face of the moonlight solo
neutral in my fantasy made in raising the rarity tempus
be yours and you mine. Invading the fourth
macabre
your fragile hairless sex desiring
deliver to the imagination of my conscience pernicious
unleashing the passions that nearly hit
maybe a look or a smile
enough to reach the abyss where the vast realm of authentic
sunset horizon
sow in our lives an orchard land, sea and stars live.
encroach impatiently stinking blanket warmed
the finding my body go through miserable and ever virgin
devoured by the mood on the night of masturbation
breaking the restful sleep and no one breaks the pleasure of listening
be your secret love.
We connected with our bodies sodomite pavement marking
the youth of my bare chest with desire
hungry nibbling my lips are
bless you enter you in the wreck as deep down in your belly. Shaking like dying
dove expect the unexpected
gave me your flower-laden native
Starfire
holy lands desecrated by the antichrist not get medieval
stop my progress, nor did they stop the march of the crusaders in the desert
who conquered the scarlet shade of twilight
feeling the sensation of her red lips
the same image in my phallus
left a stain and red fluorescent
pride to get out of your insides
and sad, because it is the first and only in your life.
live idle in bed with smooth moving
wobbles getting amnesia by fighting melee
share the fear of not breastfeeding
gladly move our burning passions with euphoria
to find safety at all magnitudes and directions used
stepped interior spaces revolution was so tenuous
symphony of your breathing
innocence there on fire, as our bodies naked virgin.
erogenous now dragging him
stroking the limbs, chest moans filled my street
my dream is vague very vague.
I'm eating, without pause
obscenities in your small and unique
pubis but delirious satisfaction and pride of
makes my soul to serve both Scots and lingerie sex
I speak of small and beautiful
perversions because they also must die radiant
fervently shaking off the edge of the lair
without uttering a word when we spit it wishes
spring from your lips moist with chastity. Lone
prostrate to the beauty of the night
insinuating just the edge of your skin
soar through the unholy desire to touch and kiss
the face of my body, so cold you usually ask me
quietly making love to a again.
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