#colombia
I am from the place where the mountains are tall,
The oceans are green,
And the rivers turn scarlet many times in a year.
The place where beauty is submerged in an ocean of tears and wails.
And progress has cried for another soul to burn in her place.
Feb 20
Feb 20, 2026 at 11:41 PM UTC
Julio Flórez
You do not know how to love; are you trying to
give me warmth with your sad look?
Love is worth nothing without storms,
Without tempest... love does not exist!
And yet, you say you love me?
No, it is not love that moves you towards me:
Love is a sun made of flames,
and in the sun the snow never sets.
Love is a volcano, it’s lightning, it’s light,
and it must be devouring, intense,
It must be a hurricane, it must be a summit...
It must rise up to God like incense!
But you think love is cold?
That must it be in forever blank eyes?
With your anemic love... go, well go,
Go to the ossuary to make the dead fall in love!
Translated by Samuel Flórez
Mar 1, 2025
Mar 1, 2025 at 12:07 AM UTC
The 3 Crucifixes sit,
atop this city like a tombstone,
but this grave feels so alive,
so vibrant in it’s Post-Colonial glory,
the Spaniards came & went,
well “came & went” is too courteous a term,
but hey either way wherever your beliefs may lay,
they left & when they did they left behind their language & La Ermita Church,
now what’s left is gift wrapped & embodied in Native Blood & Colonial Skin,
ancient wisdom lost in translation all in the name of The Cross,
sacred status melted down for the gold they contained,
I wonder if Colombians or any South Americans for that matter,
think about the past past but the remnants that were left when speaking Spanish,
I guess the Spanish never really left,
& the Inquisition is finished but still I must confess,
Native Blood & Colonial Skin is a pretty good combination,
because 200 years after they left look what we get,
a vibrant culture a wonderful mix,
late night Salsa fiestas at Zaperoco,
hot weather hot food hot women hot music,
& vibes so alive you’d almost forget about the looming tombstone,
watching everything like it’s on replay,
like everyone is already gone which they as in we will all be one day,
when Nature finally returns to reclaim,
what was rightfully Hers in the first place,
in the same way Colombians reclaimed Colombia once the Spaniards went away,
but until Nature comes back to reclaim it’s arepas salsa & coffee,
it’s a beautiful day in Cali let’s have a lively debate over empanadas panela & pollo,
partying from sunset & on in to the humid Cali night,
making such amazing memories that we temporarily forget about the crucifix tombstones,
but all the while there those 3 Crucifixes sit,
atop this city like a tombstone,
but this grave feels so alive,
so vibrant in it’s Post-Colonial glory…
∆ Aaron LaLux ∆
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 2:00 AM UTC
"Eh **** mide marica que me traen crujificao como si huera un esucristo." Y así se lo llevaban los guardias al hueco pataleando y dando guerra....se necesitaba en lo mínimo 8 guardias cuando a la "pulga nuclear" le daba por darle paliza a todos los negros de la "universidad". Estaba vez por corretear a unos 15 negros con un fierro que lo había transformado en machete. Intimidaba más que un régimen de soldados armados de metralletas en un pueblo de pura mujer. Además era intocable. Claro era un gamin pero capitán de barcos más fuerte que 20 hombres y sólo media poco más que metro y medio. Era el terror de todos que le hechaban un medio mal recibido vistazo. Violento, asesino, un sicario inigualable en el arte de la tortura y el mismo angel de la muerte. Menos mal que este gamin también era mi guardaespaldas y ferozmente fiel. Y bien que lo necesitaba ahí en una prisión federal en TX en los años 90.
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 2:24 AM UTC
¡Que asco! Pensé... pero el primo me obligó.. pruébelo y si no te gusta te doy el mío. Ahí en un runcho en Bogotá probé esta "delicia" según Miguel Ángel...y sabe que....como no me supo nada mal el caldito, decidí darle un mordisquito a lo bueno. Intentando disimular, el sinvergüenza del primacho me espiaba entre sorbos. No se le contenía la carcajada que quería soltar. Una cosa babosa, gelatinosa y parecía de tendón ya masticado me invadió y empecé a sudar intentando esconder lo que buscaba Miguel. Como no le di la satisfacción, sólo dejó que se le escapará una gigante sonrisa al ofrecerme el caldo suyo. Pero no me sacó la piedra...y me quedé asombrado de como se chupaba los dedos al terminarse el mío.
¡Que asco! Comprobé
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 12:21 AM UTC
Loco porque yo lo coloco
y ella lo quita y lo coloca
con cola loca en
otro loquito lugar
Loco lo quito y otra vez
loquito vuelvo y lo coloco
como un bobo loco
bien dónde debe estar
Y la loquita loca
lo quita de su local
Y lo coloca en otro lugar
El colmo del caso
es que si seguimos acaso
dando este paso
nunca lo cazo en
casa local al loco
loco loquito locazo.
Así que deme otro vaso
Qué si la loca
lo quiere al loco de paso
lo buzco al triple locazo
y lo juro que
yo me lo cazco.
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 8:23 PM UTC
Que viva Colombia!
Que viva el vueltiao
Que viva el tamal tolimense
Que viva mi machete
Que viva la ruana
Que viva la cumbia
Que viva el guarapo
Que viva Peñaranda
Que viva la sabana, el monte, el llano y el mar
Que viva mi abuelita ******
Que viva el M.A.N., mi papá
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 11:58 PM UTC
Summer breeze,
the sun beats down on me.
It leaves me a mark,
paints me like my ancestors.
A radiant glow.
An exotic flower from the tropical
gardens of Colombia.
Just like an exotic flower from the tropical
gardens of Colombia.
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 8:01 PM UTC
Mona Lisa, mona linda,
O emblem of western beauty!
A hundred greedy eyes rest on you,
Drinking you in.
Crowds and crowds gather
To feast on your unsmiling face,
Your stiff posture, your
Lifeless gaze.
Within the golden frame you are
Frozen in time
And unable to escape those relentless gawks.
Life imprisonment
With an audience of 2 million.
Adoring fans, passers-by
Cry out in praise!
“Beauty, beauty, beauty!”
Do they know what they see?
Bland Western beauty standards served up on a plate.
Fresh from Ireland and ready to eat.
Dreams of wealth and success
Wrapped up in pale white skin
And short blonde hair.
Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 4:54 PM UTC
A veces
me pregunto por qué no puedo ser
una de esas personas
que no se preguntan.
Esas que viven inmóviles
inmovibles.
y yo acá , en Medellín Irkutsk París
qué cambia
qué hago
busco la búsqueda
dudo de todo
escribiendo
en este idioma ajeno
qué miedo
y que placer
y esperando
veo las hojas levantarse
en la danza
del viento que las lleva
Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 7:30 PM UTC
Fanatics fixed their eyes upon
The screen to cheer their team
The mood there in the air was tense
Tricolor seemed out of steam
The clock was counting down
The time was drawing nigh
Doomed to lose and head on home
Bid Russia their goodbye
An errant shot deflected out
Gave them one last chance
To score a goal and prance about
Show off their famous dance
From the corner, the ball soared in
A hero rose above
Mina smacked it with his head
And won his country's love
England shocked to see the win
Snatched right from their grasp
Colombia delirious
Successful at last gasp
And thus the game was sent along
Into the overtime
Two periods were played to nil
Two teams full in their prime
Penalties would now decide
Which team would advance
The locals glued to their tvs
The nation in a trance
Falcao scores! Kane as well!
Cuadrado, Rashford too!
Muriel then strikes one home
Tricolor up three to two!
Ospina blocks the next one
Hypes up the frenzied crowd
But Uribe hits the crossbar
And the silence echoes loud
Trippier knots it up again
We're down to final shots
Bacca fails to get his through
Past Pickford's valiant swat
Fate rests upon this final kick
Well placed with perfect spin
Just past Ospina's outstreched hands
Dier seals the win
The cafeteros reel from shock
No sign of jubilation
But still the crowd, crushed in defeat
Show their appreciation
Colombia eliminated
We give them all a hand
And though their World Cup here is done
I'm now their biggest fan
Jul 4, 2018
Jul 4, 2018 at 2:58 AM UTC
Mujer morena
que canta nocturna,
niña colombiana
de ojos grandes,
mi canto que
se vuelve nocturno,
mujer de luna,
corremos despacio,
mojamos el mundo.
Te vi sonreir,
con los jeans azules,
el cigarro eterno,
la mirada al infinito.
Soñe despierto
buscando el recuerdo
siempre
risueña,
mujer,
miel de abeja...
La chica...
La de la gorra rosa.
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 2:04 AM UTC