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Verdes tardes de la selva; tardes
tristes. Río verde
entre zacatales verdes;
pantanos verdes.
Tardes olorosas a lodo, a hojas mojadas, a
helechos húmedos y a hongos
El verde perezoso cubierto de moho
poco a poco trepando de rama en
rama, con los ojos cerrados como
dormido pero comiendo
una hoja, alargando un garfio primero
y después el otro,
sin importarle las hormigas que le pican,
volteando lentamente el bobo rostro
redondo, primero a un lado
y luego al otro,
enrollando por fin la cola en una rama
y colgándose pesado como
una bola de plomo; el salto del sábalo en el río;
el griterío de los monos comiendo
malcriadamente, a toda prisa,
arrojándose las cáscaras de anona unos a otros
y peleándose, charlando, arremedándose
y riéndose entre los árboles;
monas chillonas cargando a tuto monitos
pelones y trompudos;
la guatusa bigotuda y elástica
que se estira y encoge
mirando a todos lados con su ojo redondo
mientras come temblando;
espinosas iguanas... temblando;
espinosas iguanas
como dragones de jade
corriendo sobre el agua
(¡flechas de jade!);
el ***** con su camisa rayada, remando
en su canoa de ceiba.

Una muchacha meciéndose en una hamaca,
con su largo pelo *****, y una pierna desnuda
colgando de la hamaca,
nos saluda:
                    Adiós, California!

El río *****, como tinta, al anochecer.
Una flor de un hedor putrefacto
                                                      como de cadáver;
y una flor horrible, peluda.
                                                      Orquídeas
guindadas sobre el agua podrida.
Silbidos tristes de la selva,
y quejidos.
                    Quejidos.
Hojas tristes que caen dando vueltas.
Y chillidos...
                      ¡Un grito entre las guanábanas!
El hacha cortando un tronco
                      y el eco del hacha.
¡El mismo chillido!
Ruido sordo de manadas de cerdos salvajes.
¡Carcajadas!
                      El canto de un tucán.
Chischiles de culebras cascabeles.
Gritos de congos.
                      Chachalacas.
El canto melancólico de la gongolona
                                  entre los coquitales,
y el de la paloma popone,
                                            popone, pone, pone
Oropéndolas sonoras
columpiándose en sus nidos colgados de las palmeras,
y el canto del pájaro-león entre los coyoles
y el del pájaro de-la-luna-y-el-sol
el pájaro clarinero, el pájaro
relojero que da la hora
y el pocoyo que canta de noche (o caballero)
                                  Cabayero mi dinero Cabayero mi dinero
parejas de lapas que pasan gritando,
y el guis, chichitote y dichoso-fui
                                      dichoso-fuiiiiiiii
que cantan en los chagüites sombríos.
Plateados pantanos rielando,
y las ranas cantando
                              rrrrrrrrrrrrr
!Y un pájaro que toda la noche repite.
Le Beau Oct 2019
Tease it.
Eat it.
Sing to it.
Let it drip.
Feel her ****.
Rub her *******.
Kiss her feet.
**** her toes.
Make sure she remembers my name.
Love is a sacred sin
Love a sacred sin which passes through a test of time
It culminates at a point where lover becomes a beloved
When in lunacy he declares veracity it becomes crime
It resonates at the same frequency and at the same grid
A slogan vehemently comes as my love resides in me
Butcher me but I will never ever revoke my love promise
Do understand I am but a drop of water in the sea
Love has refined me and defined me as a  true monas
Veracity, sincerity and audacity stand to celebrate
What remains the zenith of love to eternal heights
I am a lunatic poet so may not be able to narrate
What are wonderful and remarkable set of flights
Colonel Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright Feb 2022 Love Remain
Delton Peele Dec 2023
Take me ....sweep my feet make me.....
I want ....
No I need ....
I know so deeply
....
Can you please take me.....
Take me back to bell bottom
Star jeans.......
45's and 33's.....
Quadraphonic.  ..
Innocent daydreams......
Redline,hutch,
mongoose....
Stingrays and
No rain for days ....
No pains .......
Foozeball.....
Stick ball under the streetlights.......
5.oo dollar concerts ...
Dates at the movies ...
Hold hands ......
Naw ....Take me back to the 3 hour french kisses.....tongue sore . ....
Walk home 3 miles call you and lay on the floor listen to you just breath
For......hours......
Football pencils ...
Kiss cards .. ..
Dunes of the cape.   Saturday morning cartoons.  
Ted Nudget ....
AC/DC........
Passing notes....
Drawing ***** things on people's peechees. .....
Skipping ......
School.............
With girls . ..   ya. ...
Take me.....
Take me ..... can ya....please......
And an above all and everything .....
Take me .  
Take me back to the days when.  
I spent time with my family......
Back before we all started our own and drifted sofly ...
Away .... .
Take me back to the you must be Monas' kid......
Sitting around talking **** ...  far away enough so our parents can't hear........
Sneaking beer .....and getting high...... ....
Ya ...... can ya take me back ............
To the years before internet a cell phones........
Back when the ringing phone was an invitation not an obligation.....
Back when we gave hugs freely ....shared everthing...fought with our fists .......
And people were polite and actually cared. ......
Before we were scared of the government!
Take me
n84
.
there by the rivers at Sina'lure,
atop hills of lavender grass,
now within the valley of the suffering,
my tears flow endlessly of the pain of this age
i have come to the west-lands,
that they know their discordant notes
and lend senses to the warmth of the ice.
.
the stench of opulent rulers,
the foulness of cowardly priests
the screams from merchants' doings,
have extended to the heavens
there is recompense brewing
i am gifted with sword of a loving edge
and a hand which may stir harsh winds,
to reveal error in the west,
and bring into being the love of future times
.
(c) Erik Monas-Gilkes (Standswithtrees),  9 April 2013, 3:16pm
Minas-Gilkes Clan, Kalinago Nation, Dominica
Tatya Koeswanto Dec 2024
Jakarta, though once I longed to flee,
Her bustling streets, now part of me.
No longer yearning for escape's embrace,
I've found my place, in this vibrant space.

The schoolgirl's grown, with dreams that soared so high,
Now in a tower, near Monas, in the sky.
Her childhood wishes, finally taking flight,
A life she built, with her own beaming light.

The mother's wave, a memory so clear,
Now echoes softly, as I persevere.
The husband's kiss, a love that fades afar,
A sweet reminder, that love is everywhere.

The workers' pause, a lesson learned so well,
To find the grace, in life's relentless swell.
Jakarta's rhythm, a pulse within my soul,
In this city's heart, I've found my destined role.

Alone I stand, in my apartment's gleam,
But never lonely, in this waking dream.
Jakarta's embrace, a comfort I now claim,
No need to wander, for here I've found my name.
Jakarta, June 2023.

— The End —