Con un flan de coco,
Una botella de ron boricua
Y la taza de cafe cubano.
Las palmas tropicales
Por arriba sobre todo.
Te lo digo ahora,
Va ser una noche muy buena.
No te vayas temprano.
Si te vas,
Olvídate del chocolate.
Tenemos mucho para darte,
Pero eres tu que le hace falta
Siéntate en la playa
Y con nosotros pasaras el rato.
Cálmate por esta noche,
Que las que vienen van hacer
For the love of god, don't google translate this.
A beautiful sun shines through a palm's canopy
And casts a shadow over your beach retreat.
Sitting in a lounge chair with a rumrunner in hand,
It's easy to pretend people don't get murdered here.
Now it's nighttime and the city shines alive with neon
As countless youth hop from club to club looking for fun.
Walking down the boulevard while you take in the sights,
It's easy to forget the projects you passed to get here.
The next morning starts with a hefty hangover
And ends with a delicious bandeja paisa.
You've never had such exotically good food in your life,
Yet it's easy to ignore the famished begging on the streets here.
So the next time you visit
And feel all of your problems leave you,
Remember that your tourist dollars help keep our paradise
One fit for a fool.
Sitting on a beach as the wind sways gently,
A slender palm tree moves as in a dance.
Reminiscing about each moment lived happily
As the panorama of dusk takes the ocean's lamp.
My senses, though numbed, are primed
To receive the night's embrace.
This evening, though young, burns sublime
Energy into our enlightened grace.
you're my tropical paradise,
my favourite way to lose control,
my most potent addiction and
the fluorescent spark inside my heart-
when i take a dive into your oceans,
your thoughts and words are coral reefs-
your touch is tender and your kiss
is as sweet as the nectarines you pluck.
i hear angels in your tangerine voice
remnants of you in every memory-
tokens of your pearly white incisors
biting down on my satin pillow skin.
i'll rearrange my insides to fit you-
carving space and toss the rotten flesh out
i treasure your bronzed, sinewy arms and
the way you give out smiles so easily.
your fresh-soil gaze cauterize me,
burning unsolicited marks on my soul
and i could spend the rest of the universe
kneading my hands into your sunflower silks.
five stanzas wowzaaaa
The sands were still—home silent trees
The day was calm—our lives at ease
We rattled no more than passing breeze
As we sang the ocean's frequencies
Time had passed and we rode the waves
Ventured far out—lost track of days
We swam through nights and their gentle haze
And we came to rest at each other's gaze
Water falls into turquoise lagoons
Where softly dusted butterfly wings
Chastely kiss a blue sky mirror
As the sun admires its reflection
Dressed up in cotton white clouds
Vibrant birds fluff out their feathered costumes
Listening as warm winds pass through talking trees
Hidden in a desert of lush green foliage
Enclosed in a ring of bleach white sand
As deep blue water guards the periphery
Of this last of Eden’s islands
in its leaves
that ties are natural bounds
to flutters in the wing
and sputters wind in hurricane
their minute features spin
a lasso of fear
Nature all around.
Images of my childhood
pass me by
Weekends by the beach
and long drives
to reach those trees
of my people
never far behind
I wish to go back
To my home in the hills
With mango trees
and fresh breeze
Tired of this elongated recession
Needing that moment of egression
I would rather just sleep until the next day
Yet it doesn't put the elephant away
Only making it more obvious
Master of procrastination
No matter how many pilcations
It seems to be the same result.
I always wish my creative output was more then it is