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George R Camacho Dec 2013
A child starving in the street
What do I see
A teardrop
A battered women in the street
What do I see
A teardrop
A homeless person in the street
What do I see
A teardrop
Isn't this world a horrible place
I think to myself as a teardrop
Runs down my face

© 2003 George R. Camacho
George R Camacho Dec 2013
"There are times in everyone's life when
they wish those two little words could express all kinds
of things. And today...
I am one of those people."



I acted without thinking
And behaved a bit unwisely
Looking back, I feel I should apologize
I yielded for the moment
Rushing to all the wrong conclusions
The words and results caused unhappiness and confusion
Sometimes we are more in haste
Without examining the facts
And launching ourselves to the most unfortunate of acts
I feel like I've reacted in a manner
I regret,
that clearly was a moment Id be glad to forget
But since I can't go back in time, and past mistakes ignore
Id like to say I'm sorry once more

© 2003 George R. Camacho
En la casa del Marqués
De San Jorge gran sarao.

Ya en salones y retretes
Se encuentran los convidados,
Mientras el Marqués aguarda,
Gentil y apuesto vasallo.
Abajo de la escalera,
De «La Jerezana» al lado
Al Virrey, que precedido
Por lucientes candelabros
Va subiendo. De los muros,
Entre telas de Damasco,
Cuelgan cuadros del insigne
Gregorio Vásquez Ceballos;
De Oidores y bellas damas
Amarillentos retratos;
En marcos de plata, espejos
Que opacan lentos los años;
Y panoplias, que recuerdan,
Entre brumas del pasado,
La gesta de la Conquista
En cumbres, selvas y llanos.
Con casacas de anchas faldas,
Largos chalecos bordados,
Blanco calzón, blanca media,
Y áurea hebilla en el zapato,
Departían con las damas
En los lucientes estrados,
Nariño, Torres, Vergara,
Zea, Acebedo, Camacho,
Salazar, Ulloa, Prieto,
Gutiérrez, Ayala... cuantos
Prez fueron de la Colonia
Por sus virtudes y rango,
Y que después muchos de ellos,
Desde ensangrentados bancos
Dejaron eternos nombres
En nuestros anales patrios.

Cuando esa noche Nariño
Salía para el sarao,
Corno envío misterioso
Recibió un libro. Al acaso
Leyó párrafos y líneas,
Y más líneas y más párrafos;
Y al avanzar la lectura,
Sentía alborozo extraño
Hasta que llegó al capítulo
En la margen señalado:
«De los Derechos del Hombre»...
Lo leyó con ojos ávidos;
Y después, meditabundo,
Y en gruesa capa embozado
Al sarao fue. La niebla
Más ***** hacía el espacio.
Sombra y niebla... Niebla y sombra
En las tinieblas ni un astro....
Y entre esa noche cerrada,
Nariño va cabizbajo.
«El hombre es libre, decía,
No ha nacido para esclavo».
Y en medio de aquella sombra
En que sonaban sus pasos.
Julian May 29
https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=EO4_qL7GCHQ...
As I place the Heart of the Ocean on your gasping neck choking lustfully harder than the New York Knicks on a Wednesday Knight walking around Everlong Pearl Harbor Julian Calendar boiled leapfrog crabwise massaged kangaroo pouched daydreams bejeweled with Black Betty Take on Me guffaws gambles the pittance of lurid Fuhrer furor triumphs of *** on Fire til the end of time bethrothed to livid mascara lipstick slapstick roughshod monkey bizness of “roulette fanfare” dank orbits around Dark Horse Ginuwine Meccan Magnetism of your priceless caress as the King of Leon XIV nukes the bedazzled frenzy of your dilapidated delusions more addictive than Peruvian Flake Wolf of Wall Street style kink shoved down your groovy soul kitchen sink becoming Titanic cream amnesia squirts but we both “ain’t used to such horrible conditions” on ships that always sink into the depths of your labial tugboat fist bump ****** on a strike three sign language nonstop stop and go San Andreas hopscotch nickel-and-diming Candy Shop slipshod Conflagration of penultimate love for the ultimate pen (and a battle of your bulge loving spoonful) that is the author and finisher of your heart and I’m about to go full Camacho and even full ****** with my tongue-in-cheek backdoor man state obscenity laws in Operation Barbarossa on the continent of your complete infatuation and devotion of your superlative soul wed to Air Jordan Alley Ooping “Ooh La Lah” buzzer beaters 20 minutes into the sprauncy motion of a Mavericks ocean ( fervid in the most intense dancing in frenzied “Havana”rain boogied down reign) because we own Half the moon and all the stars as we both “spy with a smile” at the depths of infinite love redoubled on triple-play ******* and sacraments 69ed until RADAR kills the Rodeo Scars as Niki FM coffee burns scald my Scarlet Letter heart galloping headlong into risky business  Jive Talking scarecrow tantalized taunts Little Mannin’ your **** after my 6.8” Little Boy ******* Supernova Explosions of Wayne Manor Pedigree Rides your donkeys colt until Palm Springs ******* to our symphonic duets loyal to White Weddings dancing better than Terry Crews on a cruise ship high on ecstasy😆 naughtier than nice as I plammer your “Cozy little Christmas” nosediving into your sunken rapture as I forcefully **** your heart like Yoda high on LSD levitating Deez Nuts on your Dua Lipa lyrical genius causing a Cascade of Cascadia Tsunamis that makes me Coach Prime 33 as third-degree burns of infatuation of Fahrenheit 451 bonfires blaze in the depths of your conscience. You blaze like an amaranthine light brighter than the whole Milky Way and “Ima” ***** Wonka your *** with a nocturnal transmission oneiromantic golden ticket and offer you the whole galaxy for free as long as I can climb your Redwood resilient heart to the top of Mount Everest and beyond suffocating on your love until the laughing gas heavens open a portal and we both skydive from the moon and parachute into the lush forests of the highest heaven where you’ll gag order my deepest love as we are “face to face” with God til the end of eternity with daft paradise and eternal bliss

— The End —