#havana
A man I know who liked sultanas
In coffee cakes full of bananas
He'd eat two cakes at tea
Sometimes he'd have three
The best cakes were shipped from Havana
Feb 28
Feb 28, 2026 at 1:31 PM UTC
Militia at the gate boarding prisoners for the state.
**** model climbing out the pool in a polka dot bikini.
Cigars being smoked in the back of the coach, walls being plastered with paint.
Theresa being smashed because she a rich proustite.
Disgusting scenes on television displaying an exorcism.
Lacoste logo on the T-shirt of the guy playing golf.
Many casualties after the dinner banquet got shot up.
Theresa lost her job now she fussing with moms but Julio about to **** her ****
Flamingo girl dancing on a rotating stage, shaking her curvy hips ¢ bouncing her big ****
"The cigar factory is impressive enough it only needs an investment too be better."
She won't sit with a common ***** an arrangement that didn't happen.
Roulette table catching fire the dealer smuggling cash.
They just bought some champagne but they didn't buy her ¢ she don't wanna talk to him, he was a long time ago.
Flashbacks making her reconsider so she went back to the party.
Robert must be a body guard but even closer than that if he stealing kisses from a married woman.
Julio just domed a ***** now he scrambling for his freedom.
Counterfeit money like monopoly making smiles ¢ frowns.
Taking a walk on the beach as the sunsets talking life.
The most exotic creature he's ever known, quite a danger to his health.
She hasn't changed a bit making her recognizable even after separation.
She came back for a kiss from the only love of her life.
Her husband wants Theresa while the wife wants the body guard.
Julio still in college yet he hanging out with gangsters.
Rebels being shot for trying to escape being captured.
Julio kidnapped the wife ¢ the body guard but the gorillas came out the jungle ¢ stopped him.
"We are you. You are us."
Oct 31, 2019
Oct 31, 2019 at 7:19 PM UTC
Cuban motorists
expect the odd puff of wind
‘nother day, ‘nother Zephyr
Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 2:24 PM UTC
The infamous Cuban fog
Roll's of the ceiling
Arroz on Pollo
*** and ice
Flamenca tunes serenade
the
crescent moon
Decadent
bites
Celebrating
Havana Nights
Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 2:38 PM UTC
Could you contain my sighs of solitude
by harboring the anxiety in this fragile sea?
On your streets lies the tenderness, aging,
incandescent wind shelters and recalls
them in the distance
the flame anchored in your colors.
Habana,
Lucid, shadowed reminiscent garden
in an infinite insomnia
harnessing the dawn.
Throbbing uniquely,
uniquely understanding,
following the beat, freshness,
watercolor eyes of the city.
Giraldilla, proclamation, mystery,
chaste voice in a calm urge.
I consecrate your vitreaux,
sensing your baroque capitals,
Dusty, unraveled.
I'd like to talk:
Game, rainbow, love,
People, noise, cars;
Essays on flavors.
A captivated rumor,
your arbor dances a naked certainty:
A park, a cloud, summer, God.
The boundary hurts the clef,
the litany resorts to music,
when the stars nurse your elusive chant.
Far… blood calls for your passion,
Languishing, nobody edifies it,
in the absent dwelling of your sun, your moon.
The corner dwellers come to my mind,
the adjacent towns, trembling bedrooms.
I seek within you, dear city,
that home, The Cathedral,
that childhood, concrete flesh,
mother's kiss fading goodbye:
upholds my venerated memories.
Translated by Vanessa Cresevich
May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 2:05 PM UTC
Water swept softly, caressing the malecon.
Fisherman hung tirelessly to rods unbent,
Lovers perched next to seagulls,
Looking to distant dreams,
Embracing one another, folding arms against freedom,
Denying the waves flirty approaches.
A place where coloured plates were signs of class,
Fumes of gas enveloped rusty car interiors,
Locals spoke of their better selves,
All a show, an act of unity,
Clothes hung loosely, less is more.
Skin soft from the sun's spirit.
Tourists hummed over finely tipped cigars,
Remains of better days memorilised with frames,
Sweets passed as currency for cemetario tours,
Family tombs, shines, the dog at her side,
Saint Amelia listens to gratitude for answered prayers,
Where gomez, Alvarez, gonzales make hay,
Guantalamera sung gently in the bay.
Queues formed on corners, no end to each line,
Rations existing in such plentiful times,
Disregard for professionals,
Hailing of crimes,
Hemingways cocktail maker still pouring in the Floridita,
Murals of Che plastored to the walls,
Architectural past dotted out in each street.
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 12:49 AM UTC