"cruz" poems
Isa, dalawa, tatlong yapak sa putik.
Isa, dalawa, tatlong lubog sa tubig.
Isa, dalawa, tatlong pugpog ng alikabok sa aking mga paa.
Hindi ako marunong magsalita ng Tagalog.
"Roel! Bilisan mo naman maglakad, patay tayo kay Ginang Cruz." Sambit ni rey.
"Oo sandali lang natumba ako sa putikan."
"Ang lampa mo kasi." Nagtawanan kaming lahat pagkwa'y tumakbo nang ubod bilis.
Mga kamag-aral ko sila. Palagi kaming magkakasabay sa paglakad sa umaga patungo sa eskwela. Natutuwa ako sapagkat masaya silang nag-aasaran kahit hindi ko naman maintindihan ang sinasabi nila. Nahihiya ako kaya nag-eensayo ako sa bahay o habang kami ay naglalakad, pabulong-bulong, ginagaya ang pagbikas ng bibig; ang pagsara, ang pagbukas.
Mga kamag-aral ko sila. Isang buong grupo kami na wari ba'y batalyon ng mga sundalo na handang sumabak sa giyera; may putik ang laylayan ng pantalon at basa ang mga paa.
Uy malapit na kami sa eskwela, ilang hakbang na lang; tumakbo sila, gayundin ako, mabilis. Nagpatuloy sila ngunit ako'y biglang huminto.
"Oo nga pala, hanggang dito na lamang ako", mahinang sambit sa sarili. Natigilan ako, lumiwanag ang mukha at sumilay ang tuwa. Tumakbo ako papalayo sa eskwela't papalapit sa palayan kung saan tutulong ako sa anihan. "Marunong na ako magsalita ng Tagalog!" Sigaw ko sabay yakap sa mga aanihing palay. Salamat sa mga kasabay kong maglakad tuwing umaga, salamat sa mga kamag-aral ko sa kalsada.
Sep 21, 2017
Sep 21, 2017 at 10:02 AM UTC
I met a gypsy couple the other day
In the park of course
They were a lovely, beautiful mess
Trucked in right from Santa Cruz
They loved lots
Only four days
Her car stuck in some lot
I laughed a bit
I had to admit
I too
Knew the feeling
Being stranded
Deprived
Wrecked
Solititude
I gladly changed their tune
Convinced them tomorrow
Come noon
They'd notice a chance of attitude
Another chance at eternity
A moment devine
And poetic as the last
There's no such thing as time?
We're all actors in a grand tragedy
Lost gypsy couple and believers of
Tiny miracles
Completing
Relieving
Resolving
Appreciating the tiny moments
Of eternity
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 4:03 AM UTC
pumasok sa kompartamentong bilang sa lahat
ngunit ipagsiksikan ang sarili, sumuot, at ipilit
dahil ang maiiwan sa españa ay hindi makakarating
makipaglaban, mang-agaw, ang akin ay akin
trenta minutong paghihintay
sa ilalim ng init, tiyaga ang kapiling sa umaga
bakit nga ba ‘di pa makikipag-balyahan?
asal-hayup upang mapuntahan ka lamang
sa pagdating sa istasyon ng sta. mesa
pawis ay naghahalo, amoy ay ‘di mawari
napagitnaan ng dal’wang dalagang nagchi-chismisan
‘di sinasadyang makinig, ako’y ‘di sang-ayon kaya iiling
sa hawakan ay higpitan lalo ang kapit
sasakyan natin ay paparating na sa pandacan
tumitig sa bintana at muli, bigla kang naisip
ngunit sila’y ‘di maibigay ang inaasam na pagtahimik
bakit nga ba ako nagtitiyaga?
sa masikip, magulo, at maingay na paraan
paalis na tayo sa istasyon ng paco
ika’y singtulad ng tren na ito
hindi makahinga sa dami ng taong nilalaman
kailan ba mapapadali ang ruta sa araw-araw?
magrereklamo, magsasawa, sasabihing “ayoko na”
titigil sa istasyon ng san andres
mananatili hanggang makaabot sa vito cruz
pasulong ang andar ngunit ang gana’y wala na
pagod at nagsasawa, hindi magawang iwan
ngayon ka pa ba susuko, eh ang lapit mo na?
nawala ang bigat ng pasahero pagdating sa buendia
nawala na rin panandalian ang sikip na iniinda
ngunit ano namang silbi ng ginhawa,
kung paalis ka na rin at nalalapit na sa paru-roonan
pagod ka na pero tiyagain mo nalang
ikaw at ang sitwasyon ay nariyan na nga
nag-inarte ka pa kung kailan nasa pasay road na
hindi ka pa ba nasanay sa araw-araw?
tumigil ang tren sa istasyong pinakahihintay
pawis, pagod, suot ang damit na gusut-gusot
heto na, sa dami ng nangyari ay narito na
sa edsa magallanes, salubungin mo siya
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 3:00 PM UTC
Sutla ang iyong kutis,
Ilang inches na heels
iPad ang hawak
Ayan pa’t naka-Rayban
Kahit taglamig –
Ganyan dito sa abroad
Pasyal dito
pasyal doon
Higit sa lahat
Hindi barya ang sahod.
Padala sa Pinas,
Lahat ay winaldas
Dami pang pasakalye
Datong din pala
Palaman ng inyong mensahe.
Aba’t bida pala si bunso
Sa tropa’t sa eskwela
Hindi ba’t astig?
Pang-party nila’y
Siya ang laging taya!
Ang binata ko’y
Malaki na talaga
Kapapanganak lang daw
Ng bespren nya
Anak, tanong lang
ba’t sa handa nila’y
Ikaw ang itinoka?
Ang ilaw ng tahanan
Na siyang aking iniirog
Sabay sa uso
Nakasisilaw ang alahas
Inubos ata ang bawat perlas
Buti’t nakaahon pa’t
Ayan, kay kumpare pa
Siya’y nakakapit!
At ang nararapat
Na panglamang-tiyan
Kulang pa pala
Kanyang sinapupunan
May bagong buhay
Mahal, saan siya nanggaling?
Puso ko’y nalurak
Ako’y inahas na
Pinagsamantalahan pa
Akala nila’y ok lang
Akala ko’y may babalikan pa
Yung totoo,
Lata’y hiyang-hiya na
Humihikbi ito
Makatikim lamang ng barya
Wala na ang sahod,
Awitin ko’y “Palimos.”
(12/2/13 @xirlleelang)
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 10:20 PM UTC
At Bookshop Santa Cruz
I look at a book about the East Bay then and now
One picture strikes me: 1969 Sproul Plaza
Govener Ronald Reagan has the National Guard spray
tear gas on protesters on the steps of this Berkeley Administration Building
People run in black and white
they look like my parents
The helicopter is so close to the ground, like the Vietnam War
I was three
In the backseat of our VW Bug
My mother was driving me to Strawberry Canyon
for a swim
Then she got scared--something on the radio
We turned around
I didn't understand
She had to protect us from tear gas
We lived in a war zone
Everyone was very upset
We were attacked by our own government
Even children were fair game
An innocent frog is placed in water
If the water temperature is raised gradually
the frog will sit there until it dies
In 1980 Ronald Reagan became our President
Much to our dismay
"70% of pollution comes from trees" he had announced
as Governer, he was obviously a man of science
The vice grip clenched, the water temperature raised
as we felt around us the world becoming more
difficult as a middle class
we were supposed to wait for crumbs to fall
from the table of the rich folks
fighting over the bits like starving animals
Budgets were cut
Prices rose, wages fell or disappeared completely
We were at war
1985: I took a class in Economics in college, a UC
I learned that Supply Side Economics was
a silly idea written on a napkin at a fancy restaurant
where the fat ones eat
and the crumbs are thrown away
It was all a sham
An excuse
The vice grip tightened, the world became
more difficult
not the American Dream my parents grew up in
To be middle class was to struggle and struggle and still
not have anything
The frog began to die
Somehow we saw that
Reagan drifted away, but his ghost
remained, a respite in the 90's
Then we were at war again
Not just tear gas, but carpet bombing
Guerilla warfare in the streets of a hot arid country
Oil companies, already saturating our ground and our air with their products
Cashed in
The frog is near death
We struggle, and nothing gets better
Only a respite
At a fancy restaurant
on a napkin someone wrote
a new theory of Economics
that became like Scientology
Outgrew it's ridiculous inception
And became real
Ronald Reagan dropped tear gas
from helicopters on Sproul Plaza
and it drifted to Strawberry Canyon
where children learned to swim
But that is child's play now
the frog is about to die
I want to pull it out.
Jul 21, 2012
Jul 21, 2012 at 5:01 PM UTC
I grew up in South Auckland, Takanini
the only Pakeha in the caravan park,
I learnt how to be tall, smart and skinny
how to raise the end of my sentences in an arc.
At school, we were told words held power;
but for teachers words were flowers,
and my friend Cruz had two brothers
Harley and Davidson - they belonged to Black Power,
their fists tattooed with something like “Smother”.
But there was never violence on our street, gang was family;
I usually never felt more at home around Bourbon,
loud Reggae, bags of **** and men so manly
they’d cry over love, and I wouldn’t get a word in.
Though my Father votes National and thinks Michael Laws is right
so moves us to Dunedin where it’s ninety percent white.
I stopped reading Lenin and picked up Rousseau
became a vegetarian, thought it was so cool you know,
even wrote a blog that discussed rise from below.
But I’ll never know below again
until I’m drunk in an old shed at 3am on a school night
singing along to Bob Marley in Maori,
sunk deep into the mattress propped against the Harley,
the one you and I would cruise on until dawn together
as police took to the streets in riot gear -
we’d get lost in the country and learn to smother
our thoughts in starlight then stagger over,
listen in to the darkness,
and just slowly breathe
the crisp, cool air of the kiwi tundra.
They say New Zealand has two flags,
but in the country, when you’re blazed
on the benefit, ****** on the disdain
for positive discrimination, you can pick out
all the small bright koru unfurling in the stars.
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 4:52 AM UTC
I read last Saturday in the
redwoods outside of Santa Cruz
and I was about 3/4's finished
when I heard a long high scream
and a quite attractive
young girl came running toward me
long gown & divine eyes of fire
and she leaped up on the stage
and screamed: "I WANT YOU!
I WANT YOU! TAKE ME! TAKE
ME!"
I told her, "look, get the hell
away from me."
but she kept tearing at my
clothing and throwing herself
at me.
"where were you," I
asked her, "when I was living
on one candy bar a day and
sending short stories to the
Atlantic Monthly?"
she grabbed my ***** and almost
twisted them off. her kisses
tasted like shitsoup.
2 women jumped up on the stage
and
carried her off into the
woods.
I could still hear her screams
as I began the next poem.
mabye, I thought, I should have
taken her on stage in front
of all those eyes.
but one can never be sure
whether it's good poetry or
bad acid.
4.8k
Penelope Cruz
Used to muse
On the use
Of oversized microwave ovens
In the covens
Of Barcelona.
Give them their due
They know how to imbue
Broomsticks with fresh belladonna!
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 4:34 PM UTC
Aniversari ng Mag-jowa
Mansari ng Mag-jowa,
Valentayns Dey
Sa loob ng bartolina.
May wan en onli,
Kahapon kaututan ko si Bebot,
Nakaposas ang mga kamay at 'di makakilos
Nakatali ang mga paa sa kadenang
May bolang bakal,
Si Bebot ay matitigok na.
Nagkaututan kami sa gawing madilim,
Tangan ang Gud Morning,
Pamunas ng luha.
Humahagulhol dahil kay Dok Puti,
Hinahanda na nito
Ang kanyang kahahantungan,
Said na said ang mga hikbi;
Pinid na pinid ang mga kagalakan,
Gustong pahintuin ang bawat saglit.
Di mapigil ang hatol,
Nasa dulo ng karayom
Nakasalalay ang lahat;
Unti-unting naniningkit si Bebot,
Ginagapos na siya ni Dok Puti sa katre;
Walang sinuman ang makakaampat
Sa naturang likido.
Kahapon, kaututan ni Dok Puti si Bebot.
"Lav, sapitin mo nawa ang iyong katahimikan."
Sa Valentayns Dey,
kahit sinong mag-jowa.
- Juan Dela Cruz, M.D.
P.S.
Alay sa bawat magkasintahang pinagtagpo't
pinaglayo ng pagkakataon.
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 9:06 AM UTC
but I am a different
kind of adventurous.
even if I only dance with
others, or hit whistle notes
with Brett, even if Joe's the
only one I'd kiss without
a single regret
I love long car rides, I'll
take your shift, I'll let
you sleep an extra two hours
I love the smell of sunscreen
and graham crackers and how I've been
sitting in these shorts for too
long that there has to be
a sweat stain.
I don't know, have you ever had
cheetos at a rest-stop before Modesto?
We'd make it to Santa Cruz on time.
I may not climb the Himalaya's with
you, or go to Paraguay because I'm
afraid of chronic diarrhea, but I am
so much more than my fears.
Have you ever had cheetos at a rest-stop before Modesto?
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 10:59 PM UTC
The London*
underground
Shoes Chatterbox
Choo Choo train
Mr. Earl Gray
Greyhound
Doing cartwheels
Head over heels
Milk the Cow
"Going Moo" in her
Jimmy Choo
Yahoos
Kickapoos
The Odd Mom
Cocker Doddle Doo
Goody Two shoes
'Peekapoo"
The women living
in her shoes
All Mighty God
The dog to chew
Her most expensive
shoe
Lasous
The genius
La Cruz
Goody two shoes
That's show biz
Vacation Dr. Seuss
John Hughes
The master of clues
La mousse
Love truce X-File
Instagram, please smile
In her ballet slippers
He's at the Hub
drinking beer
In the London Fog
Her wooden clogs
Ladybird chirper
He's down to his
goulashes?
Got sidetrack hot
fever lovesick
La muse shoes
Cozy at the caboose
Playing golf in the
Gulf of Mexico
You ain't got a thing
if you don't have
the shoes to swing
Kick up your shoes and
start to sing
Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 11:53 AM UTC
Excuse me Sir, I'm ready to order.
Can I please get some breakfast sandwiches
and a couple of bagels?
Uh, excuse me rudeness! What the hell was that look for?
Can you believe this motherfucker?! One look at my nopal
and he went straight into his skinhead manners brown paper bag
and picked up a big ol' hand full of **** you" and put it all
over his ******* face.
I like how now racism has a new look.
Indifference and side ways looks.
I still ******* matter.
I have a right to be where I please.
As a matter of fact, I have a right to be.
If I want a bagel I would like it without
a side of Caucasian *******
Pinches gringos cabrones.
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 3:39 PM UTC
Mouth open wide, ripped, stitched up the side
Telling me to stop running, their tired
Tired of dirt, mud, **** things that transpired
from a ground level view
Screaming at me
"Imagine if it were you!
Imagine you saw yourself running
and each step smashed your brain in!
We are tired!
Just let us die, get some new
cronies, pick on some new guys."
Beat to death, then beaten again
SLO, Santa Cruz, beaches, streets,
parties, fight circles, thrown on the roof
Hoping they'll die soon and be reborn
as some brand new shoes
Nov 13, 2012
Nov 13, 2012 at 3:37 AM UTC
i.
Off to Fuga island
Next to the pamalican;
Then to Bucas grande
In the turquoise shallow end's.
ii.
Next, the Mactan
Wherein the grain's art caramel tan;
Then to the land of Coran
And Cebu, where the shore meet's the dawn.
iii.
Hiding safely, on Bohol isle
There art tarsier, and thing's of wild;
Diogo islet next, an uninhabitable place
Me and mine Reyna shalt explore it, with tribal paint on face.
iv.
Off, to the great Santa Cruz
Ourn feet, in the pink corraline sand;
Zamboanga City, the southern region
Of this Filipino relic strand..
v.
Whilst next the Sangat
The western part of this expedition;
Whilst doing all this sight-seeing
It shalt be with mine Jane nagley, in earth's natural kitchen.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 8:48 AM UTC
all of
America’s
gubmint hatin
yahoos, pining
to get their
country back,
should grab
yer rifles, stock
up on ammo
and giddy up
down to Texas
to join the
secessionists
headin out
of the Union
Rick Perry
promises to
keep his promise
to close all the
gubmint departments
he can't remember
the names of
Ron Paul will
finally be liberated
from the tyranny
of his federal
paycheck and
can return to
his district to
practice medicine
unencumbered
by the acceptance
of medicare
payments
Ted Cruz will
move to coronate
his Cuban born
daddy as Viceroy
for life of the
western hemispheres
newest banana
republic
the last act of
of the Compartment
of Education will be
to turn every
public school
into a Holy Ghostin
Jehovah meetin
house
Judicial magistrates
will criminalize
poor people
or just make
them slaves
and all prisons
will be turned
into profit driven
plantations,
overseen by
the local
Sheriffs who
will be paid
time and a
half and 15%
of all profits
unfortunately
the Cowboy’s
will lose it’s
moniker as
America’s Team
if rattlesnake
booted
Jerry Jones
can’t make a
deal to turn
his stadium
into a sovereign
independent
territory as a
protectorate
of the USA
To assure
national purity
Texans will
build a Jericho
style wall to
define the boundaries
of their heavenly
kingdom and outlaw
all trumpet playing
within earshot
of their perturbed
borders
The Eyes of
Texas as the
state anthem
will need to
be reworded
The final stanza
will be changed
to "Until Gabriel
blows his nose"
keepin the ungodly
out and the chosen
people safely
insulated within
the shining
Lone Star State
will rise again
as a solitary
confederacy
of dunces
Music Selection:
The Eyes of Texas
Oakland
11/18/13
jbm
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 12:25 AM UTC
Dragon – a reference to government or a leader with such great powers.
Economics can determine the future?
The decision making, which can force millions to abide to the law established by government, can determine the future. That’s it.
An extension of affluence for all,
But where is the long term?
Poverty and high unemployment,
Now an argument?
With two years to educational progress,
Juan Dela Cruz drew back and recoil.
Humankind’s race,
With such declining economies..
A need for taxation of the working class –
To stay number one, or should I say, the Top 10?
For those capable to success,
No full-time salaries.. No livable wage..
A further education..
Would it be worth it when a full-time was offered?
For the move of the dragon,
Is there a downgrade forecast for the nation?
GDP has been calculated, water dragon may not be drown..
Meagre realm’s tyro – for their incomes deduction.
(4/2/12 @xirlleelang)
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 9:29 PM UTC
Que grande a geração, a de Camões,
Saia de Belém, num pranto oral...
Dizia adeus a grandes multidões!
Olhava o horizonte pequeno Portugal
Traçado o rumo do futuro,
Passado o mar forte e indeciso,
Pegava no leme, firme e duro,
Sem dor, frio ou bramido.
As ninfas, rodeavam o leme,
O Sol, queimava a proa do navio,
O capitão nada teme
Naquele mar, escuro e bravio...
Victor Marques e Atavio Nelson
Chegamos a outros pontos,
Do globo esférico, sem saber!
Que hoje são contos,
Que ainda temos de ler.
Desde Ourique, Calado e Cala trava
Com turbantes brancos reluzentes
Os portugueses lutaram com palavra
Com alegria mostravam seus dentes.
Correram os desertos, tão estéreis
Na defesa de um Santo Universal
Pela cruz combateram infiéis
Dentro e fora de Portugal.
Oh.Isabel que suaves eram tuas flores!
Que rosas encarnadas pueris
Que as músicas sejam cantadas para seus amores
Prendes-te por milagre o teu Diniz.
OH Coimbra.que tiranas do fadário
Oh Sé velha, cheia de segredos
Que encantos lá havia do Hilário
Ainda hoje escritos nos penedos...
Santa Clara, no alto...que te vê clarissa
Jovem, esbelta coimbrã!
Foste, cedo freira e noviça.
Salva-me deste fado, minha irmã!
Olá Marquez, és do Pombal
Traidor, usurpador, ladrão.
NO ódio foste genial.
E TUDO, tudo metia no gibão.
Malandro, enganas-te o teu Rei
Iludiste-o, meu falso...e mandas-te
O Távora, inocente para o cadafalso
Maldito sejas!
Isso não foi Portugal...mas foi
No norte, que uma mulher
Forte, com seios apertados
E espada no dentes bem cerrados
Em serpente e com sua gente
Em zip filas genial
Firme.destinada
Deu a vida mas
Acabou com o Cabral
Sim ali, no monte
Naquele lugar Maria da Fonte
Só com gente destemida, como eu !
Tal como o Lusitano no Gerez
Esta pátria com um plebeu
Concebeu o Tavares com um grande
PORTUGUÊS
Victor Marques
Dec 10, 2009
Dec 10, 2009 at 10:27 PM UTC
i’m drowning in new york city.
i want to die, again.
always! why is it like this?
i hate everyone; i want my ****** dramatic burlington life and friends back.
her, him, those two, even them…
i want it back.
i wanna be no one.
i wanna be everyone.
i;m full of emotions that i don’t want because everything is so different except for them.
no matter what i do the doom and gloom is always there.
i wanna change my name
i wanna get a dog—auggie or esme, a red border collie—and flee to the south.
I WANNA DRINK MYSELF TO DEATH.
i see these visions of a stable, happy, healthy version of myself but i also see these visions of me literally not making it past age 21.
i’m eternally stuck on self destructing.
but why?
why!
everything is good but it’s never enough.
i’m never enough, it’s never enough, he’s never enough (whoever he is at any given moment)
sam says he’ll fly me back to santa cruz and my insanity says do it but the small semblance of “morals” i still possess tell me not to…
only because of my parents. because of joe.
i don’t want to hurt them.
i don’t want to hurt anyone. but i’m hurting. always. forever. unless i’m drunk. no, wait…even when i’m drunk. i learned that the hard time this last run.
but life is meaningless (words are meaningless and forgettable) and time is a flat circle
blah blah blah
i’ve been here before
i’ll be here again
everything i do i’ll do over and over til i die.
if i don’t get drunk anytime soon i will eventually.
eternal return; the emo version of destiny.
remember when caroline myss’ book told me my highest potential was “victim”?
i’ll be drowning forever.
i’d rather be drowning in absinthe than drowning in aa meeting coffee.
i ache at the beauty of the world; the beauty which i will never achieve or be a part of.
i cry and i cry and i cry.
i want to be beautiful and pure but it’s all so dark.
all the people i’ve loved and who love me…i weep and i weep and i weep.
i can’t breathe fully; why do i wish i could not breathe at all?
i look back at all my pasts as if they were yesterday, and yet they all feel as if i’d made them up entirely.
disconnected and yet fully involved with each and every era of my evolution…
and yet i swear, i haven’t truly changed a bit.
the details change—the scenery, the faces, the dreams…
but all the emotions…all the thoughts…they stay the same.
“i won’t change, i’ll stay the same—darling, fade away…”
fading & falling & then blooming for a single lovely night
time is a flat circle.
i ache, i weep, i cry.
i naively hold onto the hope that someday…someday i’ll be okay.
please, god.
i have to be okay.
i have to turn off the bon iver.
i’m just trying to breathe.
maybe someday.
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 1:27 PM UTC
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JC
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By: Karijinbba
@JPC-rdd.rd.
Jul 6, 2022
Jul 6, 2022 at 9:24 AM UTC
I walk along Pacific Avenue
Santa Cruz, CA
I walk down past the nice parts
to the bus station
near seedy bars
and a sandwich board reads
Cafe Pergolesi one block
with an arrow pointing
It's not too early to scout locations
It's the location of my opening scene
I approach, and I see, it is still alive
in this summer evening
people outside and in
a trod upon, worn and comfortable air
various levels to the porch
even ash trays on the tables
like Vegas, everyone is welcome
Inside, this is no Starbucks
You don't see a line clearly where you must order
and pay
like a theme park
or a hospital
or a slaughter house
where you are funneled
It's not too clean
But it's filled with comfort
Huge couches beckon
A Victorian house
One people lived in
with spaciousness and windows
Real air permeates the place
An ATM is casually smashed between a couple of tables
but no one cares
you can't mass produce this wonderful mess
A friend's band CD blares through the speakers
badly recorded
a barrista in carefully torn fishnets sneaks a break
on the back porch with her cell phone
I buy water and a cookie and settle into a huge worn chair
Every room has a different theme
But I want comfort
I pull out my notebook and write
I have a shopping list of scenes
And I add another one for this place
Would they let me shoot here?
I don't know
But I think I could live here
It's so non judgemental
People buy things
But there isn't that corporate pressure
There are no special names for dumb things
just small, large, cookie, beer
This is cafe bliss
Jul 21, 2012
Jul 21, 2012 at 4:09 PM UTC
A Nossa Existência como seres humanos
Nascemos em qualquer lugar e somos filhos de quem quer por amor ou desejo simplesmente de procriar ou prazer puro. Não engrandece ou diminui a nossa natureza de seres humanos que nascendo por amor ou não! A partir deste início comprometedor existimos para gáudio de uns ou tristeza de outros. Milhões de células se uniram para fazer nascer seres nossos semelhantes com qualidades e defeitos que de uma maneira ou outra vão tentar sobreviver numa sociedade desproporcional e incapaz de controlar: os devaneios, crises, empreendimentos, crimes, loucuras de uma sociedade débil e moribunda.
Mas humanos resistem com paixão, inteligência e idealismo puro para tentar combater: a fome, guerra e construir muros de paz. Sim com consciência temos homens que labutam por um mundo melhor e uma sociedade que fomente uma existência menos penosa e permita uma recompensa para a outra vida mais conveniente e digna.
Todos nós temos direito à abundância de coisas boas nesta vida. O universo é totalmente gratuito para todos com uma harmoniosa junção de todos os fenómenos temporais que durante as estações de ano se manifestam na perfeição em sinfonias elaboradas por Deus eterno, infinito e Senhor. Deus nós ama feliz com uma amor intemporal e manifesto no amor de Jesus por todos nós. Com sua morte na cruz e sua Ressurreição exaltou os homens bons a viver com amor e por amor ao seu semelhante.
Vivemos num sociedade global e intransigente em que os seres humanos coabitam nos mais diversos lugares. A nossa existência como seres será leal e justa se dermos todos as mãos uns aos outros e fazer algo nesta terra que nós faça orgulhar muito mais tarde no Céu. A nossa existência como seres humanos deixava de ser importante se não houvesse uma recompensa por tudo que divinamente o homem bom faz nesta vida terrena. Deus com sua infinita bondade disse ao homem para se multiplicar e difundir seu imaculado amor e ditou suas leis universais baseadas numa fé irracional e num amor de coração.
Cabe a todo o ser humano justificar a sua existência com um amor inadiável a todos os seus semelhantes. Através da escrita e com tudo que Deus criador me deu não passa um dia nesta minha vida de passagem sem lhe agradecer por minha existência e por este planeta terra maravilhoso em todos os continentes e latitudes.
Abraço amigo
Victor Marques
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 10:25 AM UTC
697
I could bring You Jewels—had I a mind to—
But You have enough—of those—
I could bring You Odors from St. Domingo—
Colors—from Vera Cruz—
Berries of the Bahamas—have I—
But this little Blaze
Flickering to itself—in the Meadow—
Suits Me—more than those—
Never a Fellow matched this Topaz—
And his Emerald Swing—
Dower itself—for Bobadilo—
Better—Could I bring?
1.9k
Here’s the story of a guy named Eli,
Who is captain of the G men and well known.
He had a ring of gold, from the desert,
but it was all alone.
Here’s the story of a man named Brady
who was living large with three rings of his own.
He’s a hero, up in New England,
and has Gisele at home.
Till the one night when this Eli met this Brady
And they knew that it was much more than a hunch.
that Cruz would dance and Gronk would come up limping.
That’s the way that Eli ate Tom Brady’s lunch.
Tom Brady’s lunch, I played my hunch
that’s the way that Eli ate Tom Brady’s lunch.
Feb 6, 2012
Feb 6, 2012 at 5:31 AM UTC
My dear friend,
I know,
In the desert, we have been friends.
Under the burden of the sun, in such sweltering design,
The chorus of reason has failed to reach us.
We have seen each other look for the same spot,
The exact same place. Where neither the searing heat
Of the storms, nor a hundred dunes can still our voices.
Where your love for your wife will forever resound in its perpetual longing
To be,
And where without heat or sand, there
My voice will finally hold still.
Is it not disappointing that in every question with even the slightest
Tinge of profundity, the only answer that pleases
The truth of our deepest insight
is yes and no?
The desert is unflinching in being barren, all the waters,
Few and far between,
Are only images of those which are not desert.
You strike to spell love, but where will you keep it
As to let it hide from the light of the sun and the howling of harrowing sand?
My friend,
It only piles up and up and up.
And when it can no longer go up, pray tell,
How does it feel to view the horizon and see only more desert, vast and infinite?
How would it be like to look down and know
That even now you are no safer?
Jul 13, 2012
Jul 13, 2012 at 12:45 AM UTC