"diablo" poems
Nang mahimasmasan bumulagta ulit
Ang sampal ng ipu-ipo ay kay lupit
Nilulupig ang ungas,walang patawad
ni mangmang hinahatak at saka ibabagsak
Ang diablo ay nasa parabola
nakatitig sa sentro ng pinangyarihan
mangyari na maligaw sa mga pahina
didiretso sa rurok ng bundok na mapanlinlang
Huling sigaw ng mga nilalang
matubos ang kanilang kasalanan
Iba'y kumakapit sa sungay
may buntot ng unggoy
at dila ng ahas
Talangguhit ng kahihinatnan sa katapusan ng siglo
Ang panambitan sa huling liriko
Di matapos-tapos na pag-iiling
Ang pagsimangot ay pansapin
Dahil sa panimdim, ang kwaderno'y pinuno
Makapal ang kaliskis ng sakob nito
Mga taludtod na nagpupumiglas
ang dinidikta ng saloobin
Dec 19, 2018
Dec 19, 2018 at 4:29 AM UTC
Some people say it claws its way out the artist like a demon
As if ripping his soul instead of flesh
Then fervor bursts like blood
So that a painting anthropomorphizes
How then will the canvas look like
If the stirring's wreaked by the lord of hell?
How will the music ring if Diablo clobbers the drum?
Will there be songs or only blares of Armageddon?
I LUST TO WRITE POEMS.
THIS PEN ITCHES FOR YOUR BLOOD
Jan 28, 2012
Jan 28, 2012 at 7:48 AM UTC
God is spoken
From a potent Thing
we smoking Trees
Gaia birthed the bloom
breathed the boom
in the canopies,
In the wind flew the bees
and grew the pleasantries
Prana pushing
thunder through
sQuishing lemon trees
like a hundred new
Whisps of mists
and heavy deeds
Sit with honeydew
The gist of this
the lemon breeze
(We) Going tunnel view
Fits and Shakes,
seeking remedies
digging under you
Might be
dicking under you
Might be
Torn asunder true
Pirate borne to plunder you....
Sweat means gold,
what's been found
with lemon -ease?
I've been told
What in our eyes
is what we ever see's
7 seas,
more like 7 deeds,
filled with deadly feeds
Demons like to pleade
with ready rease,
Virus, the life that
spread disease
(it alters our sense
and what we please)
~Ahem,
***no te comas
la verdad
del diablo,***
today to trust
Might feel bad, but
none brought low
There's an easy in
WE Strong Standin',
N0ne brought low
and now we win
amen, a man
none start south
Its begun...
Light as
Potent as my prayers
**** the make-believe
***I can't wear it, ah
Dark is
Ever reaching
What do you receive?
***What you carrying hah?
Balance
(Is) an even preaching :
What we choose to be
***I can bear it ; hah
Come and help me unweave
those who have been so deceived
Those stuck in in the mud of ...
sputtering " how can it be ?"
**** the you or me, mentality
When Neurons Fire free
and Serotonins drained in me
You Might find Saraswati
sweetly swathing me
In glowing rivers,
poured off the moon
With Omens looming soon
With Omens looming soon
I been choking on my doom.
Dreaming
with Both eyes open
and a heart awoken ,
poorly stoking gloom
Too blind to see hope
but stoked, still
mocking roving
Vroom : im off to tokin soon.
Sh!t this blunt be totaled soon
I Might be total loon
an inverted magic man
who most often enwomb
those caught on the moon
Those stuck in the tune
For those who hear
this earworm, this tea room sloom.
This is for Those muted in zoom:
I've found traction in heaps
Breaking as hard and often
As the risen yeast
When you pass on the least
My Passion is to find
the passion of peace
its Stuck In the grasp
Fashioned with the sap
of my last energies...
May 3, 2022
May 3, 2022 at 12:27 AM UTC
I've danced with the devil
Spoken to him in tongue,
Fought him and won.
But he rose again
Threw me down and held me
Arms pinned above my head
Legs risen onto his shoulders.
He slowly pressed himself into me
Touched my lips
with the slightest touch of his
Gave me his disease
I have the devil in me.
He whispered to me,
"You want it Young One,
Yet you cannot have it…"
I clenched and bent my back.
The Devil still had me in his grasp.
He touched me.
I felt the shiver engulf me,
The touch of sin,
The touch of pain.
Hands fought with each other
As he tried to make his way
Into my most precious,
Most precious…private secrets.
I refused to let him.
I tried to stop him.
But he is gifted at this cruel game,
He enjoys so much to play.
He danced with me,
In a trance of spins and dips,
I fall all over again.
His powers are wondrous,
My power is weak.
For I am just a helpless child
This beast wants to draw in
One that it can intertwine with itself
And destroy
bit by bit.
Secrets shared and lies told,
Honesty surrounds us...
My words were bold.
"I love you"
The devil was silent.
He knew all along…
The path he has driven me on
Has led me into insanity
Hold me Satan
Please me Satan
Satan...
Tell me you love me.
Wrap me in your arms
and kiss me.
Hold my hand and whisper to me
That you were once small and weak,
That I remind you of yourself
You felt that pain,
You have those scars,
Yet you stopped...
Satan, you miss it don't you?
He is the devil in disguise.
He is beautiful to the eye,
Yet to the human soul
He is torturous.
Devours you…
Leaving you frozen and stuck.
What to do now my dear devil?
Come with me.
Massage my sore limbs.
Touch me everywhere
As I lay here wearing nothing but my underwear.
I feel your breath by my ear
As you tell me
Goodnight stories
About a brave knight who loves his ale
Sing me that Spanish lullaby.
"Mujer,"
You speak my language.
You know my tongue.
As I do yours.
Play that role of the hero,
Take me away
Down into the loud subways
Tell me I am yours.
Tell me I am beautiful.
I'm a fool for you
And a fool for lust.
Satan dear Satan...
Release me from your dungeons
They are tearing me apart.
The pain you left behind
Has instilled in me now.
You say your smile is fake...
My tears are not.
My kingdom is a place of bliss.
Your kingdom is a place of tragedy.
Satan dear Satan...
Take me away.
May your devilish Charm,
Allow us to fly away.
We will dream of happiness
Wake up next to each other
And look at what we've become.
Satan
You are my Savior.
In the name of
the Devil,
Il Diavolo,
y el Diablo...
Amen.
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 10:26 PM UTC
New dawn highway
The desert road
Eternal barren road
Metal death shut in
Onward rubber roll
Everyone is lonely
In their heads
Rollin mojo
On the road
Fiery arid sun
Vulture eyes shine
Daytime drunk
Poet of open road
Wind lamenting
Outside the window
Desolate desert canyon
All set up for failure
The devil’s desire
Burn the inferno
El Sand de Diablo
And the City of gold
Woman on the move
Women on the road
Rebels in trouble
Man in the back
With an iron tongue
Sun thirst of cactus gods
Spring sprung on scathing sun
Sun thirst of cactus gods
Apr 8, 2012
Apr 8, 2012 at 4:47 PM UTC
My father was not good to his body when he was younger.
The smoking and drinking and snorting and fighting and drinking and crashes and drinking were not good for him.
My father was not good to his body when he was younger.
One summer, when he was 16, everyday he would take a bottle of wine from his mother's liquor cabinet, buy a pack of cigarettes at the corner store, meet up with his friend Mario, who also stole a bottle of wine, and together they would ride down to the river and smoke and drink and swim. Everyday, for a full 1970's summer they did this.
And now he tells me, that at the time they were having fun and they were not worried about money or addictions or the future.
They were just having fun.
My father was not good to his body when he was younger.
One day, in the dead of fall 1981, he and his friends Mario, Mark, ****** and John all got together at Mark's apartment on the corner of 51st and Diablo boulevard. They hit the town, drank, snuck into movie theatres, harassed girls and had a good time. They returned to Mark's apartment at 2 am and thought it a good idea to steal Mark's mom's new car. They decided to go to Reno.
Driving, as my dad put it, well above the speed limit on Highway 49, they collided head on with a big rig. There were no fatalities but my dad broke his shoulder and suffered a minor concussion. Mark's mom chose to not press charges nor did the driver of the big rig. The next day my father was back at work, refusing to adhere to the doctor's orders of taking it easy and wearing a soft cast, entrapping his left arm against his chest, climbing under cars, changing oil, and repairing engines.
My father was not good to his body when he was younger.
One cold winter's day, in December of '82, my father's ever faithful companion, Mario, picked my father and his dog, Wimpy, up and they drove over to a small burger joint named Big A's. My father ordered two bacon cheeseburgers and a large rootbeer. Mario got the same, only with a single bacon cheeseburger. My father father gave his second bacon cheeseburger to his pitbull Wimpy.
My father was better to his dog than he was to his own body.
Now, my father coughs himself to sleep every night, and has chronic bronchitis. His liver and kidneys are shot and he plans to not live passed sixty. He will be turning fifty in two weeks.
My father was not good to his body when he was younger.
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 12:04 AM UTC
"Until an hour before the Devil fell..."
Yahweh and Lucifer got on so well,
God thought Archangels so beautiful,
God blessed each of you, so dutiful,
Lucifer, our light divine,
Now fallen angel, out of time,
Evil love, Prince of Darkness,
Diablo Mephistopheles, no less,
Sad to say, Beezelbub runs Hell,
But, Yahweh and Lucifer got along so well,
"Until an hour before the devil fell...."
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 9:51 PM UTC
I used to be a golfer once
But, now I am a hack
I swing around a waist of jello
I only play the middle tees
I used to play the back
I only use ***** that are yellow
My game is up on the shelf
I don't know why
And I only play golf by myself
It's no lie
I wish I still could play, I wish that I could play
I wish that I could play, someone else
I used to have a short game once
I used be real good
(Where do you think you might have lost it?)
I used to have no fear at all
I knew all that I should
(Is it with your sand wedge, where you tossed it?)
My game is up on the shelf
I don't know why
And I only play golf by myself
It's no lie
I wish I still could play, I wish that I could play
I wish that I could play, someone else
I used to split the fairways boys
I used to sink the putts
(What ever happened to the feeling?)
I can't hit a **** fairway now
I only hit wide cuts
(It's enough to send my mindset reeling)
My game is up on the shelf
I don't know why
And I only play golf by myself
It's no lie
I wish I still could play, I wish that I could play
I wish that I could play, someone else
Now, I am afraid most days
I can't hit it off the ground
I only hit well when I drink some
I know each tree out on our course
I know the ball hits tree bark sound
I only play good when I've got ***
My game is up on the shelf
I don't know why
And I only play golf by myself
It's no lie
I wish I still could play, I wish that I could play
I wish that I could play, someone else
I used to be a golfer once
I wish I still could play
I wish so hard for that sweet feeling
I once was good
But not today
If I could find Diablo, I'd be dealing
But, my game is up on the shelf
And it's funny
How, I play only by myself
No money
I wish that I could play
I wish that I could play
I wish that I could play like myself
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 7:21 PM UTC
Osiris is not a viable option,
The rays of him are toxic,
One must err on the side of caution,
One mustn't take in the toxins.
Not with a serpents gaze of night ,
I am the gleam in their very eyes,
The twilight of people's lives,
The shine dwindling with time.
Street lights conjoin with the void,
As loss and gain meet with choice,
The old teach young about voice,
Lack thereof and unspoken poise.
Lines have gathered across the head,
Along with emotions, swirling regrets,
Primal fear creeps up ones neck,
The remainder of memories to forget.
I haven't slept for I have wept
I
Am
No
King
I haven't sang for I have pain
I
Am
No
King
I haven't laughed for I am ******
Keep
On
Looking
I haven't smiled for I am vile
You
Won't
Find
Me
For she dwells within me
A potion within a vial
Searching for answers,
Answers that have long since forgotten the questions,
As words have forgotten poems,
Poems that have forgotten books,
Books that have forgotten shelves,
And you, who has forgotten me,
Although you live here, my Isis.
You do not have the mind,
To know that I dream of you,
With me, as one in the same,
Glimmers of hope which make way,
For back breaking pain, and disdain
As you say, my name, I sob, I pray,
You encounter the soul provider,
Whom you alone, deserve.
Deciphering the hieroglyphics,
The depth of my chambers,
Such an undertaking,
Is only for those not wary,
Of rude awakenings and laws,
Forsaking the freedom of my bonds,
Which hold my place, along the gate,
Which controls my fate.
Bonds of loathing and taunting
Specters of faceless smiles
Messages of nameless moans
Titles and spiteful rivals,
Bring cries of despair and tears,
Which shatter the floor beneath,
Uncovering layers of disgust,
Skin deep, is the source of vanity.
Vanity meaning fleeting importance,
For it, death, life, joy, fear, hope,
And melancholy; know nothing,
As they are simply the effects,
But not the causes of the ruckus,
The frozen coating of ocean surface,
Ignorant to the swelling below,
Waiting for a chance to bring Diablo.
I
Am
No
King
You
Won't
Find
Me
Strip
Me
Of
My
Crown
And
Bury
Me
My
Queen
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 11:10 AM UTC
Why would a Venus fly trap be sour when it could be sweet?
Why would Diablo have horns when he could have ****
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 9:59 AM UTC
grit your teeth
& tie your garters
girls
we got him right where
we want him
just don't drink his
blood
don't laugh at his
jokes
& for God's sake
never catch him smiling
the blue-eyed babes all call
that man the devil
& he will drag us all straight
to Hell if we can't keep
our cool
keep lighting his
cigarettes
keep tasting his
bourbon tongue
your day will come
& your glorious goddess wings
will strip him down
to all the breath
he ever stole
from you
& you'll never let your
musician of choice
into your bed
again
for another week
or two
Mar 6, 2012
Mar 6, 2012 at 1:58 AM UTC
Trying to forget, but it always comes back. Like ****** on a stressful day. Like El Diablo when I take those fancy colored tabs. Pull back, Push in. Pass it to me. Pass me on. Pass out.
Time to remember.
Psychopathic symbols, symbolic static, stares, start seeing....
Something?
Happy Birthday to me.
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 3:16 PM UTC
I vacation in the deepest pits of hell
I swim in lakes of flames
And **** the innocence
From the weak
Yo soy el diablo
Fear me you pathetic *****
Bow before my Almightiness
Choke on the tip of my trident
**** on the fruits of my manhood
Yo soy el diablo
You thought you could break me
But that was a test
To see if your soul would be worth feasting on
I broke you and made you nothing
Yo soy el diablo
Lick the tip of poverty
Swallow the come of humility
Learn your place
Beneath the power of this almighty Demon
Yo soy el diablo
YO SOY EL DIABLO
I am the Devil
Fear me
Learn you cant control me
Learn your soul is forever mine
I own you and you do as I say
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 6:45 PM UTC
The television screen illuminates
the mahogany walls of His Holiness’ office
so different and distant from Marta’s casa in Iguazu,
Argentina, her handwriting in Spanish,
pleading the Holy Father from cheap paper,
to return and attend to his people.
On the screen, he sees the Garganta del Diablo
exploding in what the headline calls
‘Biblical-style’ deluge.
But He knows that the devil’s throat
spills out a more subtle evil than flooding:
a secret hatred,
disjointed humanity,
greed and gluttony
and outpour of passion of futbol
rather than prayer.
My child, he writes,
these falls bless the earth--
only God causes the floodgates to open
and only together do we feel holy presence
in the river’s spray.
He licks his finger, turns over the page,
and decides he needs not write more, besides
Que Dios bendiga a tí y a Argentina.
As the television flashes scenes of his pueblo y futbol.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 2:29 PM UTC
por que me dices que me quieres
ya cuando no me tienes enfrente de ti.
Hasta cuando sera el dia
que te escuche pronunciar esas dos palabras
en mi cara.
Hasta cuando existirá tal reciprocidad?
Que valor tiene mi persona
al entrañar semejantes sensaciones.
Hasta ahora he osado
en preguntarme
a donde chingados
me estoy dirigiendo?
Por que la pesada tristeza
y la pirámide de depresión?
Por que este dolor no me deja
en paz?
No es patética mi forma de ser?
Al dejar que un "problema" tan
estúpido
me provoque matar
o matarme
me duele el pecho de verdad
al pensar que me quieres a tu lado
cuando te has ido.
me duele el estomago al pensar
las mas de 7 veces que me rompiste
el corazón.
Me destruiste, me frustraste.
Nauseas y ansias,
fueron lo que me regalaste.
me rompiste a la mitad.
y a veces siento que no te importa.
Ni una pizca de importancia.
Solo te importas tu, tu y tu.
y tus propias grietas
tu umbral del dolor
la mano que has dejado ir.
el maldito lazo que te une
de por vida
al oscuro y persistente
reflejo en carne
del pasado.
sonríes cuando
tu verdugo
blande la guadaña
sobre tu corazón.
Simplemente me esta matando
que lo ames a el
tanto como te amo yo.
y el pobre enfermo que se llevara el premio mayor.
Quieres dejarme atrás.
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 1:09 PM UTC
Where are you?
The crowd tries to bustle
the tickets out of my clenched hands
I cannot seem to find you.
For a second, there! a flash of you,
vanishing as a corner carries you away
I know you're near, but not
what's happening
Are you running towards the gate?
Or away from me?
Find a bar, meet a new friend
Steps 1 and 2 in a magic spell
3 sips, a story, 4 drinks, and you're on an adventure
while
I am the gatekeeper
The Fire Lord to your Avatar, the Sauron to your Frodo,
trying to trap you at
every turn.
But that is ok.
Fight me, triumph over me,
throw my ring in the fires
I'd rather see that than,
see you get stuck at this
****** airport
you have your own adventures to live
worlds to travel,
magic to share.
you are my love, my hero, the one who triumphs
over evil, the elven star to my Shelob's lair, the
gandolf to my Balrog, the s.h.i.e.l.d. to my H.Y.D.R.A.
the kirby to my Galeem,
the nephalem to my Diablo.
not just that-
you are
little moments
of light found in between
the chaos of time
You are
everything I imagined
and more
when my world was dark,
and the only hope I could cling to
was the idea of my future,
and perhaps the someone, (that heroes always meet)
who drives away the darkness
and holds their hand.
You are the one to see the world with
the destination of my travels,
the one to land with.
my partner.
but
not if, to you,
I am the gatekeeper.
and I'd rather be the gatekeeper
(even if it means you know what)
than watch you get stuck
and your magic fade
and your steps falter
and your soul struggle
to breathe, and you
hate yourself,
I'd rather you hate me
and get out of this airport
because otherwise,
evil would
truly win. and that
that is what
would end me.
Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 12:59 PM UTC
Love,
Deep love,
Why?
I am Vile!
Villainous, Mischievous
Destructive, Productive
Seclusive, Inclusive
Hate,
Deep hate,
Why?
I am, I!
Represent, Comprehend
Wash away, Go astray
No go, Home no...
You
Wish,
Dream,
Feel,
Scream,
Fall,
Crawl,
Won,
Lost,
Kiss,
Squeal,
Heal,
****
Me...
Unknowingly
Deservingly...
Our connection,
Shattered in the wake of deception,
My repentance,
None is thy sentence
Shivers run below
Shivers run below
Shivers run below
Snowy Diablo
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 7:44 PM UTC
A brisk ***** and the blood begins to accumulate around my index finger.
The man smiles, and says "That will do just fine."
Jul 16, 2011
Jul 16, 2011 at 10:30 PM UTC
I had a dream of you
But somehow it was mixed with reality
You hated me because you loved me still
And yet you found someone to replace me
I was envious of her, jealous that you chose her
Even though I had someone else too
She was the woman, married to Hector
Whose sister you slept with when I loved you
We exchanged our daughter in a parking lot
You made no effort to hide her
Foreign emotions overwhelmed me
Settled resentment returned
Her name I always remember from high school
She is Blanca, still technically Mrs. Blanca Garcia
Somehow you both resemble the devil
To remind me of your affair with Hector's sister, Ophelia
¡Diablo vete!
You're a past memory, long forgotten
You come in the night, inconspicuously
Finding any light left to darken.
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 8:40 AM UTC
Cuánto vive el hombre, por fin?
Vive mil días o uno solo?
Una semana o varios siglos?
Por cuánto tiempo muere el hombre?
Qué quiere decir «Para Siempre»?
Preocupado por este asunto
me dediqué a aclarar las cosas.
Busqué a los sabios sacerdotes,
los esperé después del rito,
los aceché cuando salían
a visitar a Dios y al diablo.
Se aburrieron con mis preguntas.
Ellos tampoco sabían mucho,
eran sólo administradores.
Los médicos me recibieron,
entre una consulta y otra,
con un bisturí en cada mano,
saturados de aureomicina,
más ocupados cada dia.
Según supe por lo que hablaban
el problema era como sigue:
nunca murió tanto microbio,
toneladas de ellos caían,
pero los pocos que quedaron
se manifestaban perversos.
Me dejaron tan asustado
que busqé a los enterradores.
Me fui a los ríos donde queman
grandes cadáveres pintados,
pequeños muertos huesudos,
emperadores recubiertos
por escamas aterradoras,
mujeres aplastadas de pronto
por una ráfaga de cólera.
Eran riberas de difuntos
y especialistas cenicientos.
Cuando llegó mi oportunidad
les largué unas cuantas preguntas,
ellos me ofrecieren quemarme:
era todo lo que sabían.
En mi país los enterradores
me contestaron, entre copas:
-«Búscate una moza robusta,
y déjate de tonterías».
Nunca vi gentes tan alegres.
Cantaban levantando el vino
por la salud y por la muerte.
Eran grandes fornicadores.
Regresé a mi casa más viejo
después de recorrer el mundo.
No le pregunto a nadie nada.
Pero sé cada día menos.
Déjenme solo con el día.
Pido permiso para nacer.
1.4k
Cap and tassel,
diploma,
freedom from academia.
A swift, ****** birth
as I'm shoved through to real life,
supposedly born grown,
a bright smile and a firm hand shake,
along with a list of accomplishments.
I have none, my resume made
completely of Diablo Rock Gym
and Chipotle.
Great.
Maybe I can still fail a class,
tell the professor I copied
my A paper, get expelled
and start all over!
Or fade away quick,
sink fast before anyone notices.
I'll slide into some forgotten swamp,
survive on worms,
and my own words,
my own words,
my own wo,
my own w
my own
my ow
my
m y
m
.
May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 4:06 AM UTC
Subes centelleante de labios y ojeras!
Por tus venas subo, como un can herido
que busca el refugio de blandas aceras.
Amor, en el mundo tú eres un pecado!
Mi beso es la ***** chispeante del cuerno
del diablo; mi beso que es credo sagrado!
Espíritu es el horópter que pasa
puro en su blasfemia!
El corazón que engendra al cerebro
que pasa hacia el tuyo, por mi barro triste.
Platónico estambre
que existe en el cáliz donde tu alma existe!
Algún penitente silencio siniestro?
Tú acaso lo escuchas? Inocente flor!
...Y saber que donde no hay un Padrenuestro,
el Amor es un Cristo pecador!
1.2k
i’m going to steal you….
In the middle of the night
I’m going to steal you
Like an expensive piece of art
I’m gonna steal you
Like the rain steals the dryness
Of the dessert i cry on
I’m gonna steal you
As you sleep
As you dream
As you mourn
While you eat cookies con leche
While you watch a random movie
As you iron a wrinkled old shirt
As you cook huevos rancheros
I’m gonna steal you
Voy a robarte
A la antigua
A la buena, a la mala
Between sombra y resolana,
I will carry you in my canana
As a bullet for revolution
I’m gonna steal you
While worlds wage war against each other
As the corn goddess watches over
Little children of a poor neighborhood
In Vegas
Voy a robarte
Y llevarte entre las piernas
Like bootlegged tequila
During the prohibition
I’m going to steal your superstitions
And show you
That words carry such a strong action
So strong
That we seldom belong in our own realities
The realities imposed
By every single law of attraction
I’m gonna steal you
Like la Llorona
El calzonudo
El Diablo blanco
Los gitanos
Or el viejo del costal
As you rest your feet on the floor
Ponderously looking at the sky
In your search for a perfect star
In july’s cielos…
I’m going to steal you…
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 5:23 AM UTC