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"cabo" poems
Afghanistan needs hellopoetry Albania needs hellopoetry Algeria needs hellopoetry Andorra needs hellopoetry Angola needs hellopoetry Antigua and Barbuda needs hellopoetry Argentina needs hellopoetry Armenia needs hellopoetry Australia needs hellopoetry Austria needs hellopoetry Azerbaijan needs hellopoetry The Bahamas needs hellopoetry Bahrain needs hellopoetry Bangladesh needs hellopoetry Barbados needs hellopoetry Belarus needs hellopoetry Belgium needs hellopoetry Belize needs hellopoetry Benin needs hellopoetry Bhutan needs hellopoetry Bolivia needs hellopoetry Bosnia and Herzegovina needs hellopoetry Botswana needs hellopoetry Brazil needs hellopoetry Brunei needs hellopoetry Bulgaria needs hellopoetry Burkina Faso needs hellopoetry Burundi needs hellopoetry Cabo Verde needs hellopoetry Cambodia needs hellopoetry Cameroon needs hellopoetry Canada needs hellopoetry Central African Republic needs hellopoetry Chad needs hellopoetry Chile needs hellopoetry China needs hellopoetry Colombia needs hellopoetry Comoros needs hellopoetry Congo, Democratic Republic is in need of hellopoetry Congo, Republic is in need of hellopoetry   Costa Rica needs hellopoetry Côte d’Ivoire needs hellopoetry Croatia needs hellopoetry Cuba needs hellopoetry Cyprus needs hellopoetry Czech Republic needs hellopoetry Denmark needs hellopoetry   Djibouti needs hellopoetry Dominica needs hellopoetry Dominican Republic needs hellopoetry East Timor (Timor-Leste) needs hellopoetry Ecuador needs hellopoetry Egypt needs hellopoetry   El Salvador needs hellopoetry Equatorial Guinea needs hellopoetry Eritrea needs hellopoetry Estonia needs hellopoetry Eswatini needs hellopoetry Ethiopia needs hellopoetry Fiji needs hellopoetry Finland needs hellopoetry France needs hellopoetry Gabon needs hellopoetry The Gambia needs hellopoetry Georgia needs hellopoetry Germany needs hellopoetry Ghana needs hellopoetry Greece needs hellopoetry Grenada needs hellopoetry Guatemala needs hellopoetry Guinea needs 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needs hellopoetry Rwanda needs hellopoetry Saint Kitts and Nevis needs hellopoetry Saint Lucia needs hellopoetry Saint Vincent and the Grenadines needs hellopoetry Samoa needs hellopoetry San Marino needs hellopoetry Sao Tome and Principe needs hellopoetry Saudi Arabia needs hellopoetry Senegal needs hellopoetry Serbia needs hellopoetry Seychelles needs hellopoetry Sierra Leone needs hellopoetry Singapore needs hellopoetry Slovakia needs hellopoetry Slovenia needs hellopoetry Solomon Islands needs hellopoetry Somalia needs hellopoetry South Africa needs hellopoetry Spain needs hellopoetry Sri Lanka needs hellopoetry Sudan needs hellopoetry Sudan, South needs hellopoetry Suriname needs hellopoetry Sweden needs hellopoetry Switzerland needs hellopoetry Syria needs hellopoetry Taiwan needs hellopoetry Tajikistan needs hellopoetry Tanzania needs hellopoetry Thailand needs hellopoetry Togo needs hellopoetry Tonga needs hellopoetry Trinidad and Tobago needs hellopoetry Tunisia needs hellopoetry Turkey needs hellopoetry Turkmenistan needs hellopoetry Tuvalu needs hellopoetry Uganda needs hellopoetry Ukraine needs hellopoetry United Arab Emirates needs hellopoetry United Kingdom needs hellopoetry United States needs hellopoetry Uruguay needs hellopoetry Uzbekistan needs hellopoetry Vanuatu needs hellopoetry Vatican City needs hellopoetry Venezuela needs hellopoetry Vietnam needs hellopoetry Yemen needs hellopoetry Zambia needs hellopoetry Zimbabwe needs hellopoetry
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Dec 21, 2019
Dec 21, 2019 at 11:08 AM UTC
maxneumann
The World NEEDS HelloPoetry (Please Make A Contribution.)
Afghanistan needs hellopoetry Albania needs hellopoetry Algeria needs hellopoetry Andorra needs hellopoetry Angola needs hellopoetry Antigua and Barbuda needs hellopoetry Argentina needs hellopoetry Armenia needs hellopoetry Australia needs hellopoetry Austria needs hellopoetry Azerbaijan needs hellopoetry The Bahamas needs hellopoetry Bahrain needs hellopoetry Bangladesh needs hellopoetry Barbados needs hellopoetry Belarus needs hellopoetry Belgium needs hellopoetry Belize needs hellopoetry Benin needs hellopoetry Bhutan needs hellopoetry Bolivia needs hellopoetry Bosnia and Herzegovina needs hellopoetry Botswana needs hellopoetry Brazil needs hellopoetry Brunei needs hellopoetry Bulgaria needs hellopoetry Burkina Faso needs hellopoetry Burundi needs hellopoetry Cabo Verde needs hellopoetry Cambodia needs hellopoetry Cameroon needs hellopoetry Canada needs hellopoetry Central African Republic needs hellopoetry Chad needs hellopoetry Chile needs hellopoetry China needs hellopoetry Colombia needs hellopoetry Comoros needs hellopoetry Congo, Democratic Republic is in need of hellopoetry Congo, Republic is in need of hellopoetry   Costa Rica needs hellopoetry Côte d’Ivoire needs hellopoetry Croatia needs hellopoetry Cuba needs hellopoetry Cyprus needs hellopoetry Czech Republic needs hellopoetry Denmark needs hellopoetry   Djibouti needs hellopoetry Dominica needs hellopoetry Dominican Republic needs hellopoetry East Timor (Timor-Leste) needs hellopoetry Ecuador needs hellopoetry Egypt needs hellopoetry   El Salvador needs hellopoetry Equatorial Guinea needs hellopoetry Eritrea needs hellopoetry Estonia needs hellopoetry Eswatini needs hellopoetry Ethiopia needs hellopoetry Fiji needs hellopoetry Finland needs hellopoetry France needs hellopoetry Gabon needs hellopoetry The Gambia needs hellopoetry Georgia needs hellopoetry Germany needs hellopoetry Ghana needs hellopoetry Greece needs hellopoetry Grenada needs hellopoetry Guatemala needs hellopoetry Guinea needs hellopoetry Guinea-Bissau needs hellopoetry Guyana needs hellopoetry Haiti needs hellopoetry Honduras needs hellopoetry Hungary needs hellopoetry Iceland needs hellopoetry India needs hellopoetry Indonesia needs hellopoetry Iran needs hellopoetry Iraq needs hellopoetry Ireland needs hellopoetry Israel needs hellopoetry Italy needs hellopoetry Jamaica needs hellopoetry Japan needs hellopoetry Jordan needs hellopoetry Kazakhstan needs hellopoetry Kenya needs hellopoetry Kiribati needs hellopoetry Korea, North needs hellopoetry Korea, South needs hellopoetry Kosovo needs hellopoetry Kuwait needs hellopoetry Kyrgyzstan needs hellopoetry Laos needs hellopoetry Latvia needs hellopoetry Lebanon needs hellopoetry Lesotho needs hellopoetry Liberia needs hellopoetry Libya needs hellopoetry Liechtenstein needs hellopoetry Lithuania needs hellopoetry Luxembourg needs hellopoetry Madagascar needs hellopoetry Malawi needs hellopoetry Malaysia needs hellopoetry Maldives needs hellopoetry Mali needs hellopoetry Malta needs hellopoetry Marshall Islands needs hellopoetry Mauritania needs hellopoetry Mauritius needs hellopoetry Mexico needs hellopoetry Micronesia, Federated States is in need of hellopoetry Moldova needs hellopoetry Monaco needs hellopoetry Mongolia needs hellopoetry Montenegro needs hellopoetry Morocco needs hellopoetry Mozambique needs hellopoetry Myanmar (Burma) needs hellopoetry Namibia needs hellopoetry Nauru needs hellopoetry Nepal needs hellopoetry Netherlands needs hellopoetry New Zealand needs hellopoetry Nicaragua needs hellopoetry Niger needs hellopoetry Nigeria needs hellopoetry North Macedonia needs hellopoetry Norway needs hellopoetry Oman needs hellopoetry Pakistan needs hellopoetry Palau needs hellopoetry Panama needs hellopoetry Papua New Guinea needs hellopoetry Paraguay needs hellopoetry Peru needs hellopoetry Philippines needs hellopoetry Poland needs hellopoetry Portugal needs hellopoetry Qatar needs hellopoetry Romania needs hellopoetry Russia needs hellopoetry Rwanda needs hellopoetry Saint Kitts and Nevis needs hellopoetry Saint Lucia needs hellopoetry Saint Vincent and the Grenadines needs hellopoetry Samoa needs hellopoetry San Marino needs hellopoetry Sao Tome and Principe needs hellopoetry Saudi Arabia needs hellopoetry Senegal needs hellopoetry Serbia needs hellopoetry Seychelles needs hellopoetry Sierra Leone needs hellopoetry Singapore needs hellopoetry Slovakia needs hellopoetry Slovenia needs hellopoetry Solomon Islands needs hellopoetry Somalia needs hellopoetry South Africa needs hellopoetry Spain needs hellopoetry Sri Lanka needs hellopoetry Sudan needs hellopoetry Sudan, South needs hellopoetry Suriname needs hellopoetry Sweden needs hellopoetry Switzerland needs hellopoetry Syria needs hellopoetry Taiwan needs hellopoetry Tajikistan needs hellopoetry Tanzania needs hellopoetry Thailand needs hellopoetry Togo needs hellopoetry Tonga needs hellopoetry Trinidad and Tobago needs hellopoetry Tunisia needs hellopoetry Turkey needs hellopoetry Turkmenistan needs hellopoetry Tuvalu needs hellopoetry Uganda needs hellopoetry Ukraine needs hellopoetry United Arab Emirates needs hellopoetry United Kingdom needs hellopoetry United States needs hellopoetry Uruguay needs hellopoetry Uzbekistan needs hellopoetry Vanuatu needs hellopoetry Vatican City needs hellopoetry Venezuela needs hellopoetry Vietnam needs hellopoetry Yemen needs hellopoetry Zambia needs hellopoetry Zimbabwe needs hellopoetry
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196
Mi cuate         Mi socio                  Mi hermano Aparcero         Camarado                  Compañero Mi pata         M´hijito                  Paisano... He aquí mis vecinos. He aquí mis hermanos. Las mismas caras latinoamericanas de cualquier punto de America Latina: Indoblanquinegros Blanquinegrindios Y negrindoblancos Rubias bembonas Indios barbudos Y negros lacios Todos se quejan: -¡Ah, si en mi país no hubiese tanta política...! -¡Ah, si en mi país no hubiera gente paleolítica...! -¡Ah, si en mi país no hubiese militarismo, ni oligarquía ni chauvinismo ni burocracia ni hipocresía ni clerecía ni antropofagia... -¡Ah, si en mi país... Alguien pregunta de dónde soy (Yo no respondo lo siguiente): Nací cerca del Cuzco admiro a Puebla me inspira el ron de las Antillas canto con voz argentina creo en Santa Rosa de Lima y en los orishás de Bahía. Yo no coloreé mi Continente ni pinté verde a Brasil amarillo Perú roja Bolivia. Yo no tracé líneas territoriales separando al hermano del hermano. Poso la frente sobre Río Grande me afirmo pétreo sobre el Cabo de Hornos hundo mi brazo izquierdo en el Pacífico y sumerjo mi diestra en el Atlántico. Por las costas de oriente y occidente doscientas millas entro a cada Océano sumerjo mano y mano y así me aferro a nuestro Continente en un abrazo Latinoamericano.
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7.2k
Nicomedes Santa Cruz
América latina
Mi cuate         Mi socio                  Mi hermano Aparcero         Camarado                  Compañero Mi pata         M´hijito                  Paisano... He aquí mis vecinos. He aquí mis hermanos. Las mismas caras latinoamericanas de cualquier punto de America Latina: Indoblanquinegros Blanquinegrindios Y negrindoblancos Rubias bembonas Indios barbudos Y negros lacios Todos se quejan: -¡Ah, si en mi país no hubiese tanta política...! -¡Ah, si en mi país no hubiera gente paleolítica...! -¡Ah, si en mi país no hubiese militarismo, ni oligarquía ni chauvinismo ni burocracia ni hipocresía ni clerecía ni antropofagia... -¡Ah, si en mi país... Alguien pregunta de dónde soy (Yo no respondo lo siguiente): Nací cerca del Cuzco admiro a Puebla me inspira el ron de las Antillas canto con voz argentina creo en Santa Rosa de Lima y en los orishás de Bahía. Yo no coloreé mi Continente ni pinté verde a Brasil amarillo Perú roja Bolivia. Yo no tracé líneas territoriales separando al hermano del hermano. Poso la frente sobre Río Grande me afirmo pétreo sobre el Cabo de Hornos hundo mi brazo izquierdo en el Pacífico y sumerjo mi diestra en el Atlántico. Por las costas de oriente y occidente doscientas millas entro a cada Océano sumerjo mano y mano y así me aferro a nuestro Continente en un abrazo Latinoamericano.
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57
Africa is beautiful and beautiful is usual in Africa Continental wonderland of love this is Africa What's in Africa? What's there to see? I asked myself on the New Year's eve I thought that I was good in geography But I didn't know Lagos or Nairobi I might be ignorant, I have to admit About Africa I knew just a little bit The great Sahara - sands of mystery! The Nile river - so much history! Africa is magical and magical is usual in Africa Continental wonderland of joy this is Africa Namibia, Nigeria, Niger, Angola, Algeria Burundi, Benin and Libya, Lesotho and Liberia Burkina-Faso, Botswana, Guinea-Bissau, Ghana Djibouti, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Uganda, Rwanda, Gambia I saw a film on Serengeti Park A one of a kind, a must-see landmark I watched a documentary on pyramids of Giza They're much much older than Mona Lisa I heard that oldest coffee plants Take their roots in Ethiopia's land And that samba, rumba, funk and jazz Take their beats from African drums Africa is beautiful and beautiful is usual in Africa Continental wonderland of love this is Africa Cameroon and Congo, Malawi, Mali, Morocco Côte d'Ivoire and Kenya, Mauritius, Mauritania Tunisia, Tanzania, Eswatini, Eritrea Sudan, Senegal, Somalia, Sierra Leone, South Sudan You can travel around cities of Africa Like Cape Town, Cairo or Casablanca If you're in love or plan to be Go to Zanzibar, feel that ocean breeze! Climb up mount Kilimanjaro Watch the zebras cross the Masai Mara If you're adventurous, you're a dreamer Take a wild trip down Zambezi river Africa is magical and magical is usual in Africa Continental wonderland of joy this is Africa Comoros, Chad, Cabo Verde, Democratic Republic of Congo Ethiopia, Egypt, Guinea, Gabon, Equatorial Guinea and Togo Madagascar, Mozambique, Central African Republic Sao Tome and Principe, South Africa and Seychelles Africa is beautiful and beautiful is usual in Africa Continental wonderland, I'm on my way to Africa!
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May 3, 2022
May 3, 2022 at 7:33 PM UTC
aidar-omar
Africa is Beautiful
Africa is beautiful and beautiful is usual in Africa Continental wonderland of love this is Africa What's in Africa? What's there to see? I asked myself on the New Year's eve I thought that I was good in geography But I didn't know Lagos or Nairobi I might be ignorant, I have to admit About Africa I knew just a little bit The great Sahara - sands of mystery! The Nile river - so much history! Africa is magical and magical is usual in Africa Continental wonderland of joy this is Africa Namibia, Nigeria, Niger, Angola, Algeria Burundi, Benin and Libya, Lesotho and Liberia Burkina-Faso, Botswana, Guinea-Bissau, Ghana Djibouti, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Uganda, Rwanda, Gambia I saw a film on Serengeti Park A one of a kind, a must-see landmark I watched a documentary on pyramids of Giza They're much much older than Mona Lisa I heard that oldest coffee plants Take their roots in Ethiopia's land And that samba, rumba, funk and jazz Take their beats from African drums Africa is beautiful and beautiful is usual in Africa Continental wonderland of love this is Africa Cameroon and Congo, Malawi, Mali, Morocco Côte d'Ivoire and Kenya, Mauritius, Mauritania Tunisia, Tanzania, Eswatini, Eritrea Sudan, Senegal, Somalia, Sierra Leone, South Sudan You can travel around cities of Africa Like Cape Town, Cairo or Casablanca If you're in love or plan to be Go to Zanzibar, feel that ocean breeze! Climb up mount Kilimanjaro Watch the zebras cross the Masai Mara If you're adventurous, you're a dreamer Take a wild trip down Zambezi river Africa is magical and magical is usual in Africa Continental wonderland of joy this is Africa Comoros, Chad, Cabo Verde, Democratic Republic of Congo Ethiopia, Egypt, Guinea, Gabon, Equatorial Guinea and Togo Madagascar, Mozambique, Central African Republic Sao Tome and Principe, South Africa and Seychelles Africa is beautiful and beautiful is usual in Africa Continental wonderland, I'm on my way to Africa!
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46
— for the American Mustang Strung up on one leg, bled dry while alive, unloaded off trailers crammed full of the crippled and blind —mares giving birth on three legs, foals trampled by stallions, and a wave of fear hovering over tossing manes like the sea after Moby **** surfaced for the first time. Last year, 135,000 horses died — rounded up in hundreds and sent off to slaughter like feeder goldfish, three stops from Canada or Cabo, displaced from plains once revered for their livelihood. In 1969, Vonnegut wrote, “And so it goes…” In 2061, our children will ask about the wild horses who used to live in their backyards as they catch the last fireflies and bottle them up in jars, flickering and dying like tired bulbs giving up on electricity — 2015 sees Henderson, Nevada grasses paying tribute to power-plant-lines and a suburb built on Tralfamadore fiction: house-mounds and picket fences caging domesticated dogs, curb-lined streets and caution signs, billboard warnings of humanity’s fixation with progression, combined like coffee with an overabundance of half-and-half and too much sugar — only 99 cents at Dunkin down a little ways, and home to the dreamers who forget the word freedom.
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Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 4:05 PM UTC
emily-schumann
Slaughterhouse 2015
— for the American Mustang Strung up on one leg, bled dry while alive, unloaded off trailers crammed full of the crippled and blind —mares giving birth on three legs, foals trampled by stallions, and a wave of fear hovering over tossing manes like the sea after Moby **** surfaced for the first time. Last year, 135,000 horses died — rounded up in hundreds and sent off to slaughter like feeder goldfish, three stops from Canada or Cabo, displaced from plains once revered for their livelihood. In 1969, Vonnegut wrote, “And so it goes…” In 2061, our children will ask about the wild horses who used to live in their backyards as they catch the last fireflies and bottle them up in jars, flickering and dying like tired bulbs giving up on electricity — 2015 sees Henderson, Nevada grasses paying tribute to power-plant-lines and a suburb built on Tralfamadore fiction: house-mounds and picket fences caging domesticated dogs, curb-lined streets and caution signs, billboard warnings of humanity’s fixation with progression, combined like coffee with an overabundance of half-and-half and too much sugar — only 99 cents at Dunkin down a little ways, and home to the dreamers who forget the word freedom.
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32
*Te amo Te amo de una manera inexplicable. De una forma inconfesable. De un modo contradictorio. Te amo Con mis estados de ánimo que son muchos y cambian de humor continuamente. Por lo que ya sabes... el tiempo... la vida... la muerte. Te amo Con el mundo que no entiendo. Con la gente que no comprende. Con la ambivalencia de mi alma. Con la incoherencia de mis actos. Con la fatalidad del destino. Con la conspiración del deseo. Con la ambigüedad de los hechos. Aún cuando te digo que no te amo, te amo. Hasta cuando te engaño, no te engaño. En el fondo, llevo a cabo un plan, para amarte mejor. Te amo Sin reflexionar, inconscientemente, irresponsablemente, espontáneamente, involuntariamente, por instinto, por impulso, irracionalmente. En efecto, no tengo argumentos lógicos, ni siquiera improvisados para fundamentar este amor que siento por ti, que surgió misteriosamente de la nada, que no ha resuelto mágicamente nada, y que milagrosamente, de a poco, con poco y nada ha mejorado lo peor de mi. Te amo. Te amo con un cuerpo que no piensa, con un corazón que no razona, con una cabeza que no coordina. Te amo incomprensiblemente. Sin preguntarme por qué te amo. Sin importarme por qué te amo. Sin cuestionarme por qué te amo. Te amo sencillamente porque te amo. Yo mismo no se por qué te amo.* ― Pablo Neruda
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May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 9:12 PM UTC
alev
Te amo
*Te amo Te amo de una manera inexplicable. De una forma inconfesable. De un modo contradictorio. Te amo Con mis estados de ánimo que son muchos y cambian de humor continuamente. Por lo que ya sabes... el tiempo... la vida... la muerte. Te amo Con el mundo que no entiendo. Con la gente que no comprende. Con la ambivalencia de mi alma. Con la incoherencia de mis actos. Con la fatalidad del destino. Con la conspiración del deseo. Con la ambigüedad de los hechos. Aún cuando te digo que no te amo, te amo. Hasta cuando te engaño, no te engaño. En el fondo, llevo a cabo un plan, para amarte mejor. Te amo Sin reflexionar, inconscientemente, irresponsablemente, espontáneamente, involuntariamente, por instinto, por impulso, irracionalmente. En efecto, no tengo argumentos lógicos, ni siquiera improvisados para fundamentar este amor que siento por ti, que surgió misteriosamente de la nada, que no ha resuelto mágicamente nada, y que milagrosamente, de a poco, con poco y nada ha mejorado lo peor de mi. Te amo. Te amo con un cuerpo que no piensa, con un corazón que no razona, con una cabeza que no coordina. Te amo incomprensiblemente. Sin preguntarme por qué te amo. Sin importarme por qué te amo. Sin cuestionarme por qué te amo. Te amo sencillamente porque te amo. Yo mismo no se por qué te amo.* ― Pablo Neruda
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44
A social milieu nigh Zipper Beach And surfing early morning, she's looking for her board. A test of hers only to wipe out again only miss. So hang ten my good friend! In Cabo San Lucas but she's full tilt there shall grant a beaker again and again. Ole
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Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 6:18 PM UTC
poetman
A Social Milieu
A social milieu nigh Zipper Beach And surfing early morning, she's looking for her board. A test of hers only to wipe out again only miss. So hang ten my good friend! In Cabo San Lucas but she's full tilt there shall grant a beaker again and again. Ole
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4
Crúzate conmigo wey and let me dream No liase que seamos undocuqueer Al cabo que el amor no ocupa visas Firma con tus labios el contrato de mi piel March next to me Aquí no vale el papel Propose to me at a demonstration Kiss me and retaliate at this ******* system of subordination Baby we are fighting for love (and against deportation) No pardon needed here for being fierce The only paper I need right now is the one embracing this ink I also need you here No human is illegal And love is undocuqueer.
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Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 2:42 AM UTC
xuanito-de-la-puente
Undocuqueer
Crúzate conmigo wey and let me dream No liase que seamos undocuqueer Al cabo que el amor no ocupa visas Firma con tus labios el contrato de mi piel March next to me Aquí no vale el papel Propose to me at a demonstration Kiss me and retaliate at this ******* system of subordination Baby we are fighting for love (and against deportation) No pardon needed here for being fierce The only paper I need right now is the one embracing this ink I also need you here No human is illegal And love is undocuqueer.
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15
Half asleep on my walk to the bus stop, The Texada clear-cut smiles like the gap-tooth of the Georgia Strait and the 3 pops of melatonin ingested 11 hours ago still have me waning on the down-low like a somewhat solid ghost in a Labrador windstorm. I send you paragraphs And all of my heartbreaks make me worried I've finally scared you off But logic trusts itself to you and says, 'Cabo San Lucas, tantrastic,' I'm no stoic. Otherwise this poem would still be sleeping in alphabet. It's only the middle of the week but it feels like it's been a month, At least At little The weather is Hyde again, But as of right now I don't really mind I just wish you had sunk into my chest last night as we slept together, Finding our mind within its memory foam, I dreamed of you and wondered If Mexico really existed.
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Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 11:39 AM UTC
tread
Cabo San Lucas, tantrastic.
Half asleep on my walk to the bus stop, The Texada clear-cut smiles like the gap-tooth of the Georgia Strait and the 3 pops of melatonin ingested 11 hours ago still have me waning on the down-low like a somewhat solid ghost in a Labrador windstorm. I send you paragraphs And all of my heartbreaks make me worried I've finally scared you off But logic trusts itself to you and says, 'Cabo San Lucas, tantrastic,' I'm no stoic. Otherwise this poem would still be sleeping in alphabet. It's only the middle of the week but it feels like it's been a month, At least At little The weather is Hyde again, But as of right now I don't really mind I just wish you had sunk into my chest last night as we slept together, Finding our mind within its memory foam, I dreamed of you and wondered If Mexico really existed.
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16
Sonhos Pairas no pensamento, no inconsciente! Estou eu a visionar as cataratas que explicam a beleza do salpicar das gotas de água… O paraíso com anjos vestidos de um rosa velho mal tratado passeia numa barca que até Já fora do diabo. A espuma desse mar celestial quase entra em tão enfadonha embarcação. Ruma em direção aos confins de lado nenhum, pois os sonhos se multiplicam e em segundos Se esvanecem. Foge o vento que em dias de tempestade é frio, bate em tudo que lhe aparece á frente. Temos sonhos dos dragões que no cabo das tormentas nos amedrontam todos os dias, nós fazem tremer de medo, chorar …transpirar junto aos lençóis de linho já raro. Que pesadelo, que sonho arrepiante! Existem sim os sonhos que também são sonhos de todos os seres humanos. O sonho de ser amado e amar na plenitude enquanto ser vivo. A dignidade humana está na perseverança de quem sonha com amor a causas nobres. Na sua vida terrena o homem sonha e obras maravilhosas nascem por amor. O meu sonho é um sonho de amor pelos outros, de dar de uma forma gratuita: um sorriso, um aperto de mão, um abraço, um conselho, uma troca positiva de olhar. O meu sonho é o sonhar com Deus amor feito de bem, um sonhar que vai sempre mais além… O meu sonho é amar a natureza sempre e respeitar suas leis… Nunca deixes de sonhar, de contemplar as estrelas, o orvalho, o sol, a lua. Estamos num tempo que temos de sonhar sempre mesmo estando acordados. Victor Marques
0
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 5:19 AM UTC
victor-marques
Sonhos
Sonhos Pairas no pensamento, no inconsciente! Estou eu a visionar as cataratas que explicam a beleza do salpicar das gotas de água… O paraíso com anjos vestidos de um rosa velho mal tratado passeia numa barca que até Já fora do diabo. A espuma desse mar celestial quase entra em tão enfadonha embarcação. Ruma em direção aos confins de lado nenhum, pois os sonhos se multiplicam e em segundos Se esvanecem. Foge o vento que em dias de tempestade é frio, bate em tudo que lhe aparece á frente. Temos sonhos dos dragões que no cabo das tormentas nos amedrontam todos os dias, nós fazem tremer de medo, chorar …transpirar junto aos lençóis de linho já raro. Que pesadelo, que sonho arrepiante! Existem sim os sonhos que também são sonhos de todos os seres humanos. O sonho de ser amado e amar na plenitude enquanto ser vivo. A dignidade humana está na perseverança de quem sonha com amor a causas nobres. Na sua vida terrena o homem sonha e obras maravilhosas nascem por amor. O meu sonho é um sonho de amor pelos outros, de dar de uma forma gratuita: um sorriso, um aperto de mão, um abraço, um conselho, uma troca positiva de olhar. O meu sonho é o sonhar com Deus amor feito de bem, um sonhar que vai sempre mais além… O meu sonho é amar a natureza sempre e respeitar suas leis… Nunca deixes de sonhar, de contemplar as estrelas, o orvalho, o sol, a lua. Estamos num tempo que temos de sonhar sempre mesmo estando acordados. Victor Marques
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17
struck by lightning twice by twenty-four this astronomical record was hers, Guinness proclaimed, this lady so famed, top of her class at Stanford, then Yale Med, and blissfully wed, to a surgeon who always came in second this did not matter at Cabo, or even in their first condo   but as her curriculum vitae grew faster than a Walmart receipt on Black Friday, he scrubbed up for one bloodletting after another, removing appendixes, and appendages, feeling her shadow grow heavy, even in the bright lights of his operating theater his first was, of course, a nurse, though at least her age his second, a decade newer model, fixed his lattes at Starbucks number three was the neighbor with whom they shared nothing but a fence, and a few awkward stares her hours in the lab with petri dishes grew, and   she never let on she knew, that her clean shaven number two   was lying with others to stand himself   when he asked for a divorce--number four requiring more than liquid exchanges in sweet hotel suites--she acquiesced and even let him have the Welsh Corgi, the cabin in Aspen, and half the 401K to this day, she recalls imagining his liaisons   while she married menacing molecules to one another in tubes under faithful light, seeking answers to questions asked by the dying she would never meet a lump would only grow in her throat     if she thought his scalpel never sliced the heart of number four, for five
0
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 10:49 AM UTC
spysgrandson
seeking a cure for cancer while contemplating the virtues of infidelity
struck by lightning twice by twenty-four this astronomical record was hers, Guinness proclaimed, this lady so famed, top of her class at Stanford, then Yale Med, and blissfully wed, to a surgeon who always came in second this did not matter at Cabo, or even in their first condo   but as her curriculum vitae grew faster than a Walmart receipt on Black Friday, he scrubbed up for one bloodletting after another, removing appendixes, and appendages, feeling her shadow grow heavy, even in the bright lights of his operating theater his first was, of course, a nurse, though at least her age his second, a decade newer model, fixed his lattes at Starbucks number three was the neighbor with whom they shared nothing but a fence, and a few awkward stares her hours in the lab with petri dishes grew, and   she never let on she knew, that her clean shaven number two   was lying with others to stand himself   when he asked for a divorce--number four requiring more than liquid exchanges in sweet hotel suites--she acquiesced and even let him have the Welsh Corgi, the cabin in Aspen, and half the 401K to this day, she recalls imagining his liaisons   while she married menacing molecules to one another in tubes under faithful light, seeking answers to questions asked by the dying she would never meet a lump would only grow in her throat     if she thought his scalpel never sliced the heart of number four, for five
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26
Manuel del Río, natural de España, ha fallecido el sábado 11 de mayo, a consecuencia de un accidente. Su cadáver está tendido en D'Agostino Funeral Home. Haskell. New Jersey. Se dirá una misa cantada a las 9,30 en St. Francis. Es una historia que comienza con sol y piedra, y que termina sobre una mesa, en D'Agostino, con flores y cirios eléctricos. Es una historia que comienza en una orilla del Atlántico. Continúa en un camarote de tercera, sobre las olas -sobre las nubes- de las tierras sumergidas ante Poseidón. Halla en América su término con una grúa y una clínica, con una esquela y una misa cantada, en la iglesia de St. Francis. Al fin y al cabo, cualquier sitio da lo mismo para morir: el que se aroma de romero, el tallado en piedra o en nieve, el empapado de petróleo. Da lo mismo que un cuerpo se haga piedra, petróleo, nieve, aroma. Lo doloroso no es morir acá o allá...                   Requiem æternam, Manuel del Río. Sobre el mármol en D'Agostino, pastan toros de España, Manuel, y las flores (funeral de segunda, caja que huele a abetos del invierno) cuarenta dólares. Y han puesto unas flores artificiales entre las otras que arrancaron al jardín... Libera me domine de morte æterna... Cuando mueran James o Jacob verán las flores que pagaron Giulio o Manuel... Ahora descienden a tus cumbres garras de águila. Dies irae. Lo doloroso no es morir Dies illa acá o allá; sino sin gloria...                       Tus abuelos fecundaron la tierra toda, la empaparon de la aventura. Cuando caía un español se mutilaba el Universo. Los velaban no en D'Agostino Funeral Home, sino entre hogueras, entre caballos y armas. Héroes para siempre. Estatuas de rostro borrado. Vestidos aún sus colores de papagayo, de poder y de fantasía. Él no ha caído así. No ha muerto por ninguna locura hermosa. (Hace mucho que el español muere de anónimo y cordura, o en locuras desgarradoras entre hermanos: cuando acuchilla pellejos de vino derrama sangre fraterna). Vino un día porque su tierra es pobre. El Mundo, Liberanos Domine, es patria. Y ha muerto. No fundó ciudades. No dio su nombre a un mar. No hizo más que morir por diecisiete dólares (él los pensaría en pesetas). Requiem æternam. Y en D'Agostino lo visitan los polacos, los irlandeses, los españoles, los que mueren en el week-end.                         Requiem æternam. Definitivamente todo ha terminado. Su cadáver está tendido en D'Agostino Funeral Home. Haskell. New Jersey. Se dirá una misa cantada por su alma.                   Me he limitado a reflejar aquí una esquela de un periódico de New York. Objetivamente. Sin vuelo en el verso. Objetivamente. Un español como millones de españoles. No he dicho a nadie que estuve a punto de llorar.
0
1.7k
José Hierro
Réquiem
Manuel del Río, natural de España, ha fallecido el sábado 11 de mayo, a consecuencia de un accidente. Su cadáver está tendido en D'Agostino Funeral Home. Haskell. New Jersey. Se dirá una misa cantada a las 9,30 en St. Francis. Es una historia que comienza con sol y piedra, y que termina sobre una mesa, en D'Agostino, con flores y cirios eléctricos. Es una historia que comienza en una orilla del Atlántico. Continúa en un camarote de tercera, sobre las olas -sobre las nubes- de las tierras sumergidas ante Poseidón. Halla en América su término con una grúa y una clínica, con una esquela y una misa cantada, en la iglesia de St. Francis. Al fin y al cabo, cualquier sitio da lo mismo para morir: el que se aroma de romero, el tallado en piedra o en nieve, el empapado de petróleo. Da lo mismo que un cuerpo se haga piedra, petróleo, nieve, aroma. Lo doloroso no es morir acá o allá...                   Requiem æternam, Manuel del Río. Sobre el mármol en D'Agostino, pastan toros de España, Manuel, y las flores (funeral de segunda, caja que huele a abetos del invierno) cuarenta dólares. Y han puesto unas flores artificiales entre las otras que arrancaron al jardín... Libera me domine de morte æterna... Cuando mueran James o Jacob verán las flores que pagaron Giulio o Manuel... Ahora descienden a tus cumbres garras de águila. Dies irae. Lo doloroso no es morir Dies illa acá o allá; sino sin gloria...                       Tus abuelos fecundaron la tierra toda, la empaparon de la aventura. Cuando caía un español se mutilaba el Universo. Los velaban no en D'Agostino Funeral Home, sino entre hogueras, entre caballos y armas. Héroes para siempre. Estatuas de rostro borrado. Vestidos aún sus colores de papagayo, de poder y de fantasía. Él no ha caído así. No ha muerto por ninguna locura hermosa. (Hace mucho que el español muere de anónimo y cordura, o en locuras desgarradoras entre hermanos: cuando acuchilla pellejos de vino derrama sangre fraterna). Vino un día porque su tierra es pobre. El Mundo, Liberanos Domine, es patria. Y ha muerto. No fundó ciudades. No dio su nombre a un mar. No hizo más que morir por diecisiete dólares (él los pensaría en pesetas). Requiem æternam. Y en D'Agostino lo visitan los polacos, los irlandeses, los españoles, los que mueren en el week-end.                         Requiem æternam. Definitivamente todo ha terminado. Su cadáver está tendido en D'Agostino Funeral Home. Haskell. New Jersey. Se dirá una misa cantada por su alma.                   Me he limitado a reflejar aquí una esquela de un periódico de New York. Objetivamente. Sin vuelo en el verso. Objetivamente. Un español como millones de españoles. No he dicho a nadie que estuve a punto de llorar.
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96
he eyes his prize with simple lies the heat, the sweet deceit his body aches with anticipation of the take its golden color his beholder chips to seals his lips white, silver, gold all he want is a sliver to sooth his soul a glass, ice and a fresh slice trago, don julio and cabo wabo worth the whoa don't know but here we go
0
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 10:17 PM UTC
innocentvu
temptation
he eyes his prize with simple lies the heat, the sweet deceit his body aches with anticipation of the take its golden color his beholder chips to seals his lips white, silver, gold all he want is a sliver to sooth his soul a glass, ice and a fresh slice trago, don julio and cabo wabo worth the whoa don't know but here we go
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11
00:00 Valentines Day It’s midnight, and I’m, alone again, trying to fill the time, with these words I write, watched the Grammy’s last night, Twenty One Pilots, standing there in their underwear, reminding us that we can be, anything, Hollywood, my home, so many people, at the Grammy’s, I’ve met and befriended, but sometimes, the enthusiasm seems so gone, it feels like we’re living, after the credits when the film has ended, like, what’s happened to us, where have we gone, and why, do we still feel, so totally alone, supposed to be gone by the morning, flight to Cabo to pick up my truck, just flew in from Australia, found letters from the IRS in my PO Box, welcome home boy now it’s time to pay your tax, met my accountant tonight, gave him all the paperwork, we chatted for a minute in his Range Rover, I made a joke about having a black accountant, he reminded me of the Basquiat photo I’d given him, Basquiat in the 80’s, looking awkward as fck, holding a FroZade cup in his hand, a crooked No Parking sign standing by, and the ‘ol Twin Towers towering in the hazed background, another genius gone before his time, sometimes the art we create is ahead of us, sometimes we have to watch our success from the Heavens, 1 2 3 4 5 6 7, 8 9 10 11, 12, It’s midnight, and I’m, alone again, trying to fill the time, with these words I write, watched the Grammy’s last night, Twenty One Pilots, standing there in their underwear, reminding us that we can be, anything… ∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
0
Feb 14, 2017
Feb 14, 2017 at 2:33 AM UTC
aaronlalux
00:00 Valentine's Day
00:00 Valentines Day It’s midnight, and I’m, alone again, trying to fill the time, with these words I write, watched the Grammy’s last night, Twenty One Pilots, standing there in their underwear, reminding us that we can be, anything, Hollywood, my home, so many people, at the Grammy’s, I’ve met and befriended, but sometimes, the enthusiasm seems so gone, it feels like we’re living, after the credits when the film has ended, like, what’s happened to us, where have we gone, and why, do we still feel, so totally alone, supposed to be gone by the morning, flight to Cabo to pick up my truck, just flew in from Australia, found letters from the IRS in my PO Box, welcome home boy now it’s time to pay your tax, met my accountant tonight, gave him all the paperwork, we chatted for a minute in his Range Rover, I made a joke about having a black accountant, he reminded me of the Basquiat photo I’d given him, Basquiat in the 80’s, looking awkward as fck, holding a FroZade cup in his hand, a crooked No Parking sign standing by, and the ‘ol Twin Towers towering in the hazed background, another genius gone before his time, sometimes the art we create is ahead of us, sometimes we have to watch our success from the Heavens, 1 2 3 4 5 6 7, 8 9 10 11, 12, It’s midnight, and I’m, alone again, trying to fill the time, with these words I write, watched the Grammy’s last night, Twenty One Pilots, standing there in their underwear, reminding us that we can be, anything… ∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
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58
Santo silencio profeso: No quiero, amigos, hablar; Pues vemos que por callar, A nadie se hizo proceso. Ya es tiempo de tener seso: Bailen los otros al son, Chitón. Que piquen con buen concierto Al caballo más altivo Picadores, si está vivo, Pasteleros, si está muerto; Que con hojaldre cubierto Nos den un pastel frisón, Chitón. Que por buscar pareceres Revuelvan muy desvelados Los Bártulos los Letrados, Los Abades sus mujeres. Si en los Estrados las vieres Que ganan más que el varón, Chitón. Que trague el otro jumento Por doncella una Sirena Más catada que colmena, Más probada que argumento; Que llame estrecho aposento Donde se entró de rondón, Chitón. Que pretenda el maridillo De puro valiente y bravo, Ser en una escuadra cabo, Siendo cabo de cuchillo; Que le vendan el membrillo Que tiralle era razón, Chitón. Que duelos nunca le falten Al Sastre que chupan brujas; Que le salten las agujas Y a su mujer se las salten; Que sus dedales esmalten Un doblón y otro doblón, Chitón. Que el letrado venga a ser Rico con su mujer bella, Más por buen parecer de ella Que por su buen parecer, Y que por bien parecer Traiga barba de cabrón, Chitón. Que tonos a sus galanes Cante Juanilla estafando, Porque ya piden cantando Las niñas, como Alemanes; Que en tono, haciendo ademanes, Pidan sin ton y sin son, Chitón. Mujer hay en el lugar Que a mil coches, por gozallos, Echará cuatro caballos, Que los sabe bien echar. Yo sé quien manda salar Su coche como jamón, Chitón. Que pida una y otra vez, Fingiendo virgen el alma, La tierna doncella palma, Y es dátil su doncellez; Y que lo apruebe el juez Por la sangre de un Pichón, Chitón.
0
1.4k
Francisco de Quevedo y Villegas
Letrilla satírica
Santo silencio profeso: No quiero, amigos, hablar; Pues vemos que por callar, A nadie se hizo proceso. Ya es tiempo de tener seso: Bailen los otros al son, Chitón. Que piquen con buen concierto Al caballo más altivo Picadores, si está vivo, Pasteleros, si está muerto; Que con hojaldre cubierto Nos den un pastel frisón, Chitón. Que por buscar pareceres Revuelvan muy desvelados Los Bártulos los Letrados, Los Abades sus mujeres. Si en los Estrados las vieres Que ganan más que el varón, Chitón. Que trague el otro jumento Por doncella una Sirena Más catada que colmena, Más probada que argumento; Que llame estrecho aposento Donde se entró de rondón, Chitón. Que pretenda el maridillo De puro valiente y bravo, Ser en una escuadra cabo, Siendo cabo de cuchillo; Que le vendan el membrillo Que tiralle era razón, Chitón. Que duelos nunca le falten Al Sastre que chupan brujas; Que le salten las agujas Y a su mujer se las salten; Que sus dedales esmalten Un doblón y otro doblón, Chitón. Que el letrado venga a ser Rico con su mujer bella, Más por buen parecer de ella Que por su buen parecer, Y que por bien parecer Traiga barba de cabrón, Chitón. Que tonos a sus galanes Cante Juanilla estafando, Porque ya piden cantando Las niñas, como Alemanes; Que en tono, haciendo ademanes, Pidan sin ton y sin son, Chitón. Mujer hay en el lugar Que a mil coches, por gozallos, Echará cuatro caballos, Que los sabe bien echar. Yo sé quien manda salar Su coche como jamón, Chitón. Que pida una y otra vez, Fingiendo virgen el alma, La tierna doncella palma, Y es dátil su doncellez; Y que lo apruebe el juez Por la sangre de un Pichón, Chitón.
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70
Take me to that summer shade Where destinations call Listen as we’ve got it made Get drunk until we fall Pass the margarita mix I’ve got a slice of lime Sammy Hagar salted licks Swim on Cabo time Fill that bucket to the brim Shave the sparkling ice I’m about to dive on in It’s now my paradise Jimmy Buffet would be proud This burgers’ ripe with cheese Slap some coral ****** loud Bring me to my knees Set’em up, I’ve got a card Who cares if it’s not mine I found it out in Joe’s backyard Come on, it’s drinking time Crank Van Halen through the roof I’m ready now to dance Pour a shot of 80 proof And then we’ll talk romance Why’s that window now a cat Neon lights all spin I can’t remember where I’m at But you can come on in Have a seat here at the bar I’ll lie on the floor I don’t think it is very far I’ve been there once before Find me when a sunset breeze Looks like a whiskey sour And wake this old boy if you please I can’t miss happy hour
0
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 4:43 PM UTC
jack-3
Happy Hour
Take me to that summer shade Where destinations call Listen as we’ve got it made Get drunk until we fall Pass the margarita mix I’ve got a slice of lime Sammy Hagar salted licks Swim on Cabo time Fill that bucket to the brim Shave the sparkling ice I’m about to dive on in It’s now my paradise Jimmy Buffet would be proud This burgers’ ripe with cheese Slap some coral ****** loud Bring me to my knees Set’em up, I’ve got a card Who cares if it’s not mine I found it out in Joe’s backyard Come on, it’s drinking time Crank Van Halen through the roof I’m ready now to dance Pour a shot of 80 proof And then we’ll talk romance Why’s that window now a cat Neon lights all spin I can’t remember where I’m at But you can come on in Have a seat here at the bar I’ll lie on the floor I don’t think it is very far I’ve been there once before Find me when a sunset breeze Looks like a whiskey sour And wake this old boy if you please I can’t miss happy hour
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36
La vida es un viaje. Nunca me esperaba una caída en el amor conmigo, y yo con usted. Fue tan inesperado y tan salvaje, pero estábamos amor. Fuimos luz, fuimos a través, pero estábamos juntos. Una parte pero nunca sperated. Éramos jóvenes, infantil, absurdo. Hemos sobrevivido unos a otros, se puede sobrevivir a cualquier cosa y cualquier persona. Nos conocimos a cabo coinciden, y lo puso juntos. La vida es un viaje. Para el fuego sigue ardiendo brillante, y se ilumina los caminos seprate que están destinados a viajar. Pero ese fuego, que quema, que el calor .... siempre voluntad y un día, quemadura por nuestro amor. Al igual que el sol. Este es mi viaje. ¿Cuál es el tuyo? ~ Estrella Luciano and Natalia Torres (my spanish family)
0
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 8:00 PM UTC
The-Voice
La vida
La vida es un viaje. Nunca me esperaba una caída en el amor conmigo, y yo con usted. Fue tan inesperado y tan salvaje, pero estábamos amor. Fuimos luz, fuimos a través, pero estábamos juntos. Una parte pero nunca sperated. Éramos jóvenes, infantil, absurdo. Hemos sobrevivido unos a otros, se puede sobrevivir a cualquier cosa y cualquier persona. Nos conocimos a cabo coinciden, y lo puso juntos. La vida es un viaje. Para el fuego sigue ardiendo brillante, y se ilumina los caminos seprate que están destinados a viajar. Pero ese fuego, que quema, que el calor .... siempre voluntad y un día, quemadura por nuestro amor. Al igual que el sol. Este es mi viaje. ¿Cuál es el tuyo? ~ Estrella Luciano and Natalia Torres (my spanish family)
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2
I'm a liar. I've been pretending this whole time, and it's a shame that no one notices. I am sad again, and terribly lost. I hate eating. I hate being this, being me. I want to go back to my support at the program, I want to leave this ugly real world and go back. I want daily meetings and supervision. I want to feel special and important I want to be happy. and I'm just not. No one notices; not my boyfriend who's been out all night partying with his friends. not my bestfriend who just left to Cabo. not my mom who hasn't spoken to me in days. not my ownself who's going ******* insane. I need someone, anybody, everybody. I'm alone and I hate it. I hate every ******* thing. is it too much to want to be loved?
0
Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 8:14 AM UTC
ehhhma
I am lost once again and it's only 5 am
I'm a liar. I've been pretending this whole time, and it's a shame that no one notices. I am sad again, and terribly lost. I hate eating. I hate being this, being me. I want to go back to my support at the program, I want to leave this ugly real world and go back. I want daily meetings and supervision. I want to feel special and important I want to be happy. and I'm just not. No one notices; not my boyfriend who's been out all night partying with his friends. not my bestfriend who just left to Cabo. not my mom who hasn't spoken to me in days. not my ownself who's going ******* insane. I need someone, anybody, everybody. I'm alone and I hate it. I hate every ******* thing. is it too much to want to be loved?
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18
La verdad es verdad, es absoluta y nada la puede hacer cambiar. Ya que hablamos de verdades déjame decirte la verdad,juro no mentir. Eres verdaderamente hermosa y esa es la verdad, no lo puedes evitar,no estoy mintiendo, al fin y al cabo no tienes que creerlo para que sea verdadero. La verdad es el lenguaje de los poetas, el lenguaje de lo que no se ve, sino de lo que se siente, la poesía no miente,la poesía no se corrompe, eso es lo que hace que la adore.
0
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 11:40 PM UTC
alexvh
Verdades que son verdad
La verdad es verdad, es absoluta y nada la puede hacer cambiar. Ya que hablamos de verdades déjame decirte la verdad,juro no mentir. Eres verdaderamente hermosa y esa es la verdad, no lo puedes evitar,no estoy mintiendo, al fin y al cabo no tienes que creerlo para que sea verdadero. La verdad es el lenguaje de los poetas, el lenguaje de lo que no se ve, sino de lo que se siente, la poesía no miente,la poesía no se corrompe, eso es lo que hace que la adore.
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1
Antes que tú me moriré; escondido en las entrañas ya el hierro llevo con que abrió tu mano la ancha herida mortal. Antes que tú me moriré; y mi espíritu, en su empeño tenaz, se sentará a las puertas de la muerte, esperándote allá. Con las horas los días, con los días los años volarán, y a aquella puerta llamarás al cabo... ¿Quién deja de llamar? Entonces, que tu culpa y tus despojos la tierra guardará, lavándote en las ondas de la muerte como en otro Jordán; allí donde el murmullo de la vida temblando a morir va, como la ola que a la playa viene silenciosa a expirar; allí donde el sepulcro que se cierra abre una eternidad, todo cuanto los dos hemos callado, allí lo hemos de hablar.
0
970
Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer
Rima xxxvii
Antes que tú me moriré; escondido en las entrañas ya el hierro llevo con que abrió tu mano la ancha herida mortal. Antes que tú me moriré; y mi espíritu, en su empeño tenaz, se sentará a las puertas de la muerte, esperándote allá. Con las horas los días, con los días los años volarán, y a aquella puerta llamarás al cabo... ¿Quién deja de llamar? Entonces, que tu culpa y tus despojos la tierra guardará, lavándote en las ondas de la muerte como en otro Jordán; allí donde el murmullo de la vida temblando a morir va, como la ola que a la playa viene silenciosa a expirar; allí donde el sepulcro que se cierra abre una eternidad, todo cuanto los dos hemos callado, allí lo hemos de hablar.
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24
Just business That's all it is Y las puertas del infierno Is who you working with See that corpse It's been reanimated It's under my control Young trucos the greatest Money gangs Are all around So ah jacker get no sleep That's how we get down It's World War C To pay for the sequel Muthufuckers getting smoked And that's what it equals Estoy arriba From that Cheech and Chong Badass joint so I can work on my song Top half black Chucks And some black bandannas My face like ah stoke Got the black ski mask Es como yo trabajo Rappers getting guerra Con palabra los mato That's ah deadline I'm ah make em me If not they get found ******* dead in the street I got weapons and tactics I deploy on you Situation getting happy With that sinister crew Out of the blue Here come the Tommy guns We're just getting started But you've already done I got weapons and tactics Specialized To hit you with ah bullet in between your eyes Bye Bye It's not ah lullaby It's ah walk by shooter On the enemy side Ese cut throat game That we play Vatos get cut almost everyday Mis pensamientos Son controlados por mi Cause from the track come on I'm all you see I'm still here After all these years Won't think ah different knowledge Cause you in my peers That's why I feed Ese on the weak I tear em up to shreds seven days ah week So behind The closed doors where I be I plan murders on the enemy All my tactics learned I stuff em in ah truck Then watch em burn Gang banging .usica Got you ducking vatos limo cause I'll shoot at ya Exhale beyond Aztec kingdom I'm on another planet Coming back to get ya I got weapons and tactics I deploy on you Situation getting happy With that sinister crew Out of the blue Here come the Tommy guns We're just getting started But you've already done I got weapons and tactics Specialized To hit you with ah bullet in between your eyes Bye Bye It's not ah lullaby It's ah walk by shooter On the enemy side The pistol booming I'm mind consuming Sleep walking out your door What the **** you doing! Totalitarian this regime I pulled up just to strangle the scene I'm sixteen Ese from their ice Cause I'm muthufucking tweaking for the rest Of the night all night You meet zombie naco No vacation this Nal Cabo I'm one In ah ******* million So know it well With who your dealing I indoctrinate Then I elevate Then I go around the corner and move some weight So what you got I got more than you More than all you muthufuckas posted up in your tomb I lay seize To any domain Either you get down or your team get slay
0
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 2:28 PM UTC
HeartBroken76
Conejo - Weapons And Tactics
Just business That's all it is Y las puertas del infierno Is who you working with See that corpse It's been reanimated It's under my control Young trucos the greatest Money gangs Are all around So ah jacker get no sleep That's how we get down It's World War C To pay for the sequel Muthufuckers getting smoked And that's what it equals Estoy arriba From that Cheech and Chong Badass joint so I can work on my song Top half black Chucks And some black bandannas My face like ah stoke Got the black ski mask Es como yo trabajo Rappers getting guerra Con palabra los mato That's ah deadline I'm ah make em me If not they get found ******* dead in the street I got weapons and tactics I deploy on you Situation getting happy With that sinister crew Out of the blue Here come the Tommy guns We're just getting started But you've already done I got weapons and tactics Specialized To hit you with ah bullet in between your eyes Bye Bye It's not ah lullaby It's ah walk by shooter On the enemy side Ese cut throat game That we play Vatos get cut almost everyday Mis pensamientos Son controlados por mi Cause from the track come on I'm all you see I'm still here After all these years Won't think ah different knowledge Cause you in my peers That's why I feed Ese on the weak I tear em up to shreds seven days ah week So behind The closed doors where I be I plan murders on the enemy All my tactics learned I stuff em in ah truck Then watch em burn Gang banging .usica Got you ducking vatos limo cause I'll shoot at ya Exhale beyond Aztec kingdom I'm on another planet Coming back to get ya I got weapons and tactics I deploy on you Situation getting happy With that sinister crew Out of the blue Here come the Tommy guns We're just getting started But you've already done I got weapons and tactics Specialized To hit you with ah bullet in between your eyes Bye Bye It's not ah lullaby It's ah walk by shooter On the enemy side The pistol booming I'm mind consuming Sleep walking out your door What the **** you doing! Totalitarian this regime I pulled up just to strangle the scene I'm sixteen Ese from their ice Cause I'm muthufucking tweaking for the rest Of the night all night You meet zombie naco No vacation this Nal Cabo I'm one In ah ******* million So know it well With who your dealing I indoctrinate Then I elevate Then I go around the corner and move some weight So what you got I got more than you More than all you muthufuckas posted up in your tomb I lay seize To any domain Either you get down or your team get slay
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The blood of Christ Constantly dripping over my life Listen hear I am blood bought My King took the punishment  for sin...rugged and uncut Blood sport No mark of the beast I'm talking the mark of the free Blood of the lamb yes his blood marks his sheep.. Death pass by my front door **** the Egyptian first born Jesus beat from limb to limb..the sight of flesh scorned Oh my Lord your beard it was tore Off .. Bless it savior you fulfill the laws Kings blood only type that could pay the cost And save the lost I bang blood with no gang affiliations Striped naked sin causes  humiliation One death saved humanity every civilization You see sin stales life sterilization Kings blood brings life  fertilization Not talking zombies, when the dead start raising I meant rising. Followers of King Jesus we behind him Like the man from Verizon The world denied him and still denies him Died once and rose into forever ..the key to our eternal survival People open the Bible Satan's no rival Hells hot  souls drenched in sweat no Cabo I stand as a man ...A witness Anointed in Kings blood White and Red blood cells..healing, health, love
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Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 10:27 PM UTC
corey-christ-lyrical-worship
Kings Blood
The blood of Christ Constantly dripping over my life Listen hear I am blood bought My King took the punishment  for sin...rugged and uncut Blood sport No mark of the beast I'm talking the mark of the free Blood of the lamb yes his blood marks his sheep.. Death pass by my front door **** the Egyptian first born Jesus beat from limb to limb..the sight of flesh scorned Oh my Lord your beard it was tore Off .. Bless it savior you fulfill the laws Kings blood only type that could pay the cost And save the lost I bang blood with no gang affiliations Striped naked sin causes  humiliation One death saved humanity every civilization You see sin stales life sterilization Kings blood brings life  fertilization Not talking zombies, when the dead start raising I meant rising. Followers of King Jesus we behind him Like the man from Verizon The world denied him and still denies him Died once and rose into forever ..the key to our eternal survival People open the Bible Satan's no rival Hells hot  souls drenched in sweat no Cabo I stand as a man ...A witness Anointed in Kings blood White and Red blood cells..healing, health, love
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Oh destino el de Borges, haber navegado por los diversos mares del mundo o por el único y solitario mar de nombres diversos, haber sido una parte de Edimburgo, de Zurich, de las dos Córdobas, de Colombia y de Texas, haber regresado, al cabo de cambiantes generaciones, a las antiguas tierras de su estirpe, a Andalucía, a Portugal y a aquellos condados donde el sajón guerreó con el danés y mezclaron sus sangres, haber errado por el rojo y tranquilo laberinto de Londres, haber envejecido en tantos espejos, haber buscado en vano la mirada de mármol de las estatuas, haber examinado litografías, enciclopedias, atlas, haber visto las cosas que ven los hombres, la muerte, el torpe amanecer, la llanura y las delicadas estrellas, y no haber visto nada o casi nada sino el rostro de una muchacha de Buenos Aires, un rostro que no quiere que lo recuerde. Oh destino de Borges, tal vez no más extraño que el tuyo.
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917
Jorge Luis Borges
Elegía
Oh destino el de Borges, haber navegado por los diversos mares del mundo o por el único y solitario mar de nombres diversos, haber sido una parte de Edimburgo, de Zurich, de las dos Córdobas, de Colombia y de Texas, haber regresado, al cabo de cambiantes generaciones, a las antiguas tierras de su estirpe, a Andalucía, a Portugal y a aquellos condados donde el sajón guerreó con el danés y mezclaron sus sangres, haber errado por el rojo y tranquilo laberinto de Londres, haber envejecido en tantos espejos, haber buscado en vano la mirada de mármol de las estatuas, haber examinado litografías, enciclopedias, atlas, haber visto las cosas que ven los hombres, la muerte, el torpe amanecer, la llanura y las delicadas estrellas, y no haber visto nada o casi nada sino el rostro de una muchacha de Buenos Aires, un rostro que no quiere que lo recuerde. Oh destino de Borges, tal vez no más extraño que el tuyo.
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De pasión sobrante y sueños de ceniza un pálido palio llevo, un cortejo evidente, un viento de metal que vive solo, un sirviente mortal vestido de hambre, y en lo fresco que baja del árbol, en la esencia del sol que su salud de astro implanta en las flores, cuando a mi piel parecida al oro llega el placer, tú, fantasma coral con pies de tigre, tú, ocasión funeral, reunión ígnea, acechando la patria en que sobrevivo con tus lanzas lunares que tiemblan un poco. Porque la ventana que el mediodía vacío atraviesa tiene un día cualquiera mayor aire en sus alas, el frenesí hincha el traje y el sueño al sombrero, una abeja extremada arde sin tregua. Ahora, qué imprevisto paso hace crujir los caminos? Qué vapor de estación lúgubre, qué rostro de cristal, y aún más, qué sonido de carro viejo con espigas? Ay, una a una, la ola que llora y la sal que se triza, y el tiempo del amor celestial que pasa volando, han tenido voz de huéspedes y espacio en la espera. De distancias llevadas a cabo, de resentimientos infieles, de hereditarias esperanzas mezcladas con sombra, de asistencias desgarradoramente dulces y días de transparente veta y estatua floral, qué subsiste en mi término escaso, en mi débil producto? De mi lecho amarillo y de mi substancia estrellada, quién no es vecino y ausente a la vez? Un esfuerzo que salta, una flecha de trigo tengo, y un arco en mi pecho manifiestamente espera, y un latido delgado, de agua y tenacidad, como algo que se quiebra perpetuamente, atraviesa hasta el fondo mis separaciones, apaga mi poder y propaga mi duelo.
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912
Pablo Neruda
Diurno doliente
De pasión sobrante y sueños de ceniza un pálido palio llevo, un cortejo evidente, un viento de metal que vive solo, un sirviente mortal vestido de hambre, y en lo fresco que baja del árbol, en la esencia del sol que su salud de astro implanta en las flores, cuando a mi piel parecida al oro llega el placer, tú, fantasma coral con pies de tigre, tú, ocasión funeral, reunión ígnea, acechando la patria en que sobrevivo con tus lanzas lunares que tiemblan un poco. Porque la ventana que el mediodía vacío atraviesa tiene un día cualquiera mayor aire en sus alas, el frenesí hincha el traje y el sueño al sombrero, una abeja extremada arde sin tregua. Ahora, qué imprevisto paso hace crujir los caminos? Qué vapor de estación lúgubre, qué rostro de cristal, y aún más, qué sonido de carro viejo con espigas? Ay, una a una, la ola que llora y la sal que se triza, y el tiempo del amor celestial que pasa volando, han tenido voz de huéspedes y espacio en la espera. De distancias llevadas a cabo, de resentimientos infieles, de hereditarias esperanzas mezcladas con sombra, de asistencias desgarradoramente dulces y días de transparente veta y estatua floral, qué subsiste en mi término escaso, en mi débil producto? De mi lecho amarillo y de mi substancia estrellada, quién no es vecino y ausente a la vez? Un esfuerzo que salta, una flecha de trigo tengo, y un arco en mi pecho manifiestamente espera, y un latido delgado, de agua y tenacidad, como algo que se quiebra perpetuamente, atraviesa hasta el fondo mis separaciones, apaga mi poder y propaga mi duelo.
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Helo, helo por do viene   el infante vengador, caballero a la jineta   en un caballo corredor, su manto revuelto al brazo,   demudada la color, y en la su mano derecha   un venablo cortador; con la ***** del venablo   sacarían un arador, siete veces fue templado   en la sangre de un dragón y otras tantas afilado   porque cortase mejor, el hierro fue hecho en Francia,   y el asta en Aragón. Perfilándoselo iba   en las alas de su halcón. Iba buscar a don Cuadros,   a don Quadros, el traidor. Allá le fuera a hallar   junto al emperador, la vara tiene en la mano,   que era justicia mayor. Siete veces lo pensaba   si lo tiraría o no y al cabo de las ocho   el venablo le arrojó; por dar al dicho don Cuadros,   dado ha al emperador, pasado le ha manto y sayo,   que era de un tornasol, por el suelo ladrillado   más de un palmo lo metió. Allí le habló el rey,   bien oiréis lo que habló: -¿Por qué me tiraste, infante?   ¿Por qué me tiras, traidor? -Perdóneme tu alteza,   que no tiraba a ti, no, tiraba al traidor de Cuadros,   ese falso engañador, que siete hermanos tenía   no ha dejado si a mí, no. Por eso delante de ti,   buen rey, lo desafío yo. Todos fían a don Cuadros   y al infante no fían, no, sino fuera una doncella,   hija es del emperador, que los tomó por la mano   y en el campo los metió. A los primeros encuentros   Cuadros en tierra cayó. Apeárase el infante,   la cabeza le cortó y tomárala en su lanza   y al buen rey la presentó. De que aquesto vido el rey   con su hija le casó.
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914
Anónimo
Romance del infante vengador
Helo, helo por do viene   el infante vengador, caballero a la jineta   en un caballo corredor, su manto revuelto al brazo,   demudada la color, y en la su mano derecha   un venablo cortador; con la ***** del venablo   sacarían un arador, siete veces fue templado   en la sangre de un dragón y otras tantas afilado   porque cortase mejor, el hierro fue hecho en Francia,   y el asta en Aragón. Perfilándoselo iba   en las alas de su halcón. Iba buscar a don Cuadros,   a don Quadros, el traidor. Allá le fuera a hallar   junto al emperador, la vara tiene en la mano,   que era justicia mayor. Siete veces lo pensaba   si lo tiraría o no y al cabo de las ocho   el venablo le arrojó; por dar al dicho don Cuadros,   dado ha al emperador, pasado le ha manto y sayo,   que era de un tornasol, por el suelo ladrillado   más de un palmo lo metió. Allí le habló el rey,   bien oiréis lo que habló: -¿Por qué me tiraste, infante?   ¿Por qué me tiras, traidor? -Perdóneme tu alteza,   que no tiraba a ti, no, tiraba al traidor de Cuadros,   ese falso engañador, que siete hermanos tenía   no ha dejado si a mí, no. Por eso delante de ti,   buen rey, lo desafío yo. Todos fían a don Cuadros   y al infante no fían, no, sino fuera una doncella,   hija es del emperador, que los tomó por la mano   y en el campo los metió. A los primeros encuentros   Cuadros en tierra cayó. Apeárase el infante,   la cabeza le cortó y tomárala en su lanza   y al buen rey la presentó. De que aquesto vido el rey   con su hija le casó.
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