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"acevedo" poems
Strokes reveal the heavens Interpret it's meaning written in my words Facing the uncanny reality burns tragedy striking to the core Abstract emanates precipitates in your presences Enervates demoralizes completely corresponding my soul Derailed equivalent to Exude the nature truly intended above I only have Tolerance for one true love Yesenia Acevedo
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Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 8:40 PM UTC
True Love
OFF IN THE DISTANCE A FADED MEMORY STILL REMAINS HIDDEN DEEP WITHIN THESE VEINS FLOWS THE WICKED DROWNED IN SHAME MAKING HER WAY THROUGH THE HOLY AS IF THEY DIDN'T KNOW THIER OWN DEMONS STARING THEM IN THE FACE DISGUISED THEY STAND TALL BEHIND THE CROSS RIGHTEOUS AS THEY BE... I SAY GO ON CAST THE FIRST STONE WHEN THE DUST SETTLES PAY ATTENTION YOU SEE ME? I STAND TALL ALL ALONE Yesenia Acevedo
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Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 10:41 PM UTC
ALONE
All it takes is a stroke of my pen To find the words that hide deep within To express what it is that I feel Although they are thoughts it's the truth they reveal As I sit and ponder on these thoughts to much of my dismay I realize sometime it's a word on word play To tell a story, just a glimpse of the fantasy I hide in and relive each day To some it is a crime If as a poet I do not rhyme I write to express not to impress And to my fellow poets I dedicate this simple poem Yesenia Acevedo
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Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 11:55 PM UTC
For the Poets
NEVER FREE, NEVER ME, NEVER KNEW... I SHOULD HAVE SEEN NEVER FREE, NEVER ME, THIS IS THE WAY IT HAS BEEN AND SO THEY HAVE TAKEN THIS HEART THAT ONCE LOVED ALL WITHOUT HESITATION UNTIL ALL THAT IS LEFT PURE BLACK BITTER DEPRESSION UNFORGIVEN THIS HEART OF MINE BLACKENED BY THE HATRED OF OTHERS STAINED WITH TEARS IT HAS CRIED THIS HEART HAS BEGGED, HAS PLEADED FOR PEACE, FOR FORGIVENESS NO PEACE SHALL BE GRANTED NO REMORSE SHALL BE SHOWN FOR IT IS UNFORIVEN BY ALL WHO HAVE KNOWN THE DEEP DARK SECRET THAT IS HOLDS CONTAINED; FOREVER HIDDEN, FOREVER JUDGED BY THE ONES... THE VERY ONES IT HAS LOVED UNFORGIVEN THIS BROKEN HEART OF MINE NEVER FORGIVEN AS THE YEARS WENT BY NEVER FORGIVEN POINTLESS THE TEARS IT HAS CRIED NEVER FORGIVEN FOREVER DRILLED IN MY MIND UNFORGIVEN AND EVEN ON THE DAY THAT IT DIED Yesenia Acevedo
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Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 1:36 AM UTC
UNFORGIVEN AND EVEN
Shadows rise only to fall again In this twisted delusion I live in Phantoms of hope dance trying to tempt me Haunting depression only taunts me Reliving faded memories daily Looking to the past relentlessly Dwelling on regret with eyes of envy Agony and despair lingers on my lips Failure radiates through my soul Shinning from head to toe This veil separates me from the normal day to day Alone by myself apart in this world I stay Yesenia Acevedo
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Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 7:08 PM UTC
Apart
Hope escapes the sanity of subtle essence drifting in the wind... long ago, fused to the memory of your love. Caressing a dark bitter heart abused by betrayal of familiar faces within beating life, mirroring its own. Corruption spews from those tender lips; releases its venom into rushing crimson. Clovers wilt at the sight of you, unaware your beauty is your confliction. What is a sight of beauty when morals lack, sprits tainted, Stars extinguished overtaken... by desire of ones own will to rewrite them against a higher beings will. Is it possible to rewrite stars? Is this destiny to deny a dream dreamed sweetly amongst the clouds an plucked for an instant the light rendered pure...  manifesting darkness at ever turn? In the end, does the love I feel no matter how true really worth the heartache caused upon myself reflecting onto them?  Shall I end this? Do I continue such a darkened path with no ending in sight.  I crave these rusty chains turn to dust or the life drained from me. Yesenia Acevedo
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Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 12:36 AM UTC
Untitled
Dream, hate, bleed, trust me and recede, Disband, never be seen, lurking in the shadows to dream, just trust me, descendant of time, the transformation is complete, drown in your sorrows and pain, Disband, never be seen, peace has come to me, I no longer need you to breath, peace has come to me, I no longer need you to breath, had to rise and fight, your the essence of destruction, eyes wide, seen this coming, go on polluting your soul, ruptured and evolved, transformation complete, drown in your pride, peace has come to me, no longer need you to breath, peace has come to me, no longer need you to breath, like a child I saw, none of your flaws, relinquish, I've seen Now you've failed me, peace has come, no longer need you, breath, peace has come, no longer need you, breath, peace has come, so dream. Yesenia Acevedo
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Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 10:11 PM UTC
Breath
In the land of hidden wonders Lives a girl without a heart Rapid thoughts stirring evil plots Provoked by the curiosity of her sanity Malicious feelings embrace her pain Cunning vice her new name Unwanted torment by the "SANE" Painting a vivid portrait of chaos Embedded in her mind She knows no longer can she be kind Who is to blame? After all, everyone, was GAME! Yesenia Acevedo
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Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 5:11 PM UTC
SANE?
Más allá de los símbolos, más allá de la pompa y la ceniza de los aniversarios, más allá de la aberración del gramático que ve en la historia del hidalgo que soñaba ser don Quijote y al fin lo fue, no una amistad y una alegría sino un herbario de arcaísmos y un refranero, estás, España silenciosa, en nosotros. España del bisonte, que moriría por el hierro o el rifle, en las praderas del ocaso, en Montana, España donde Ulises descendió a la Casa de Hades, España del íbero, del celta, del cartaginés, y de Roma, España de los duros visigodos, de estirpe escandinava, que deletrearon y olvidaron la escritura de Ulfilas, pastor de pueblos, España del Islam, de la cábala y de la Noche Oscura del Alma, España de los inquisidores, que padecieron el destino de ser verdugos y hubieran podido ser mártires, España de la larga aventura que descifró los mares y redujo crueles imperios y que prosigue aquí, en Buenos Aires, en este atardecer del mes de julio de 1964, España de la otra guitarra, la desgarrada, no la humilde, la nuestra, España de los patios, España de la piedra piadosa de catedrales y santuarios, España de la hombría de bien y de la caudalosa amistad, España del inútil coraje, podemos profesar otros amores, podemos olvidarte como olvidamos nuestro propio pasado, porque inseparablemente estás en nosotros, en los íntimos hábitos de la sangre, en los Acevedo y los Suárez de mi linaje, España, madre de ríos y de espadas y de multiplicadas generaciones, incesante y fatal.
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España
Más allá de los símbolos, más allá de la pompa y la ceniza de los aniversarios, más allá de la aberración del gramático que ve en la historia del hidalgo que soñaba ser don Quijote y al fin lo fue, no una amistad y una alegría sino un herbario de arcaísmos y un refranero, estás, España silenciosa, en nosotros. España del bisonte, que moriría por el hierro o el rifle, en las praderas del ocaso, en Montana, España donde Ulises descendió a la Casa de Hades, España del íbero, del celta, del cartaginés, y de Roma, España de los duros visigodos, de estirpe escandinava, que deletrearon y olvidaron la escritura de Ulfilas, pastor de pueblos, España del Islam, de la cábala y de la Noche Oscura del Alma, España de los inquisidores, que padecieron el destino de ser verdugos y hubieran podido ser mártires, España de la larga aventura que descifró los mares y redujo crueles imperios y que prosigue aquí, en Buenos Aires, en este atardecer del mes de julio de 1964, España de la otra guitarra, la desgarrada, no la humilde, la nuestra, España de los patios, España de la piedra piadosa de catedrales y santuarios, España de la hombría de bien y de la caudalosa amistad, España del inútil coraje, podemos profesar otros amores, podemos olvidarte como olvidamos nuestro propio pasado, porque inseparablemente estás en nosotros, en los íntimos hábitos de la sangre, en los Acevedo y los Suárez de mi linaje, España, madre de ríos y de espadas y de multiplicadas generaciones, incesante y fatal.
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Rays of beauty glisten through the crystal Rekindling the intensity of her own complexion As I glide perfection to my lips I watch her dressed in sorts of red She dances in such a motion, Circulating, demanding my attention Defenseless to her fragrance Like an addict i inhale The senses rush to my cortex Now i'm under her spell I welcome her warmth into my mouth Savoring the velocity of her seduction She sends tiny explosions down my spine Some call her mistress to her kind Others know her simply as wine I call her versatile and quite de-vine! Yesenia Acevedo
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Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 11:48 AM UTC
De-vine
I loved you You grinned I bared my soul You laughed My heart turned black I learned to hate you You went silent At night when I miss you I remember how you treated me It numbs the pain when I remember And then I smile Knowing everything is going to be okay Yesenia Acevedo
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Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 2:13 AM UTC
Untitled
Al término de tres generaciones vuelvo a los campos de los Acevedo, que fueron mis mayores. Vagamente los he buscado en esta vieja casa blanca y rectangular, en la frescura de sus dos galerías, en la sombra creciente que proyectan los pilares, en el intemporal grito del pájaro, en la lluvia que abruma la azotea, en el crepúsculo de los espejos, en un reflejo, un eco, que fue suyo y que ahora es mío, sin que yo lo sepa. He mirado los hierros de la reja que detuvo las lanzas del desierto, la palmera partida por el rayo, los negros toros de Aberdeen, la tarde, las casuarinas que ellos nunca vieron. Aquí fueron la espada y el peligro, las duras proscripciones, las patriadas; firmes en el caballo, aquí rigieron la sin principio y la sin fin llanura los estancieros de las largas leguas. Pedro Pascual, Miguel, Judas Tadeo... Quién me dirá si misteriosamente, bajo este techo de una sola noche, más allá de los años y del polvo, más allá del cristal de la memoria, no nos hemos unido y confundido, yo en el sueño, pero ellos en la muerte.
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La busca