"montoya" poems - Hello Poetry

Mr Montoya I want to know Did you discover the great design of your art in the puffs of clouds hanging lazily in the sky In the eyes of stars did you push back the deafening city lights to hear the chords in your latest song? How is it that you find trinkets of brilliance like clovers in a field? I need to know where you felt the lines of your latest poem? Did you harvest them like peaches from the purple orange sunset? Can you lead me to where hearts have unfolded minds are open spirits are free like oceans after a storm I want to meet the muses that live between the pages of your notebooks wrap my mind in your leaves like fresh towels from the dryer did you chase them towards horizons unfounded did you hear your music in bellowing rainstorms The chords in the wind and thunder shaking your spinal chord What divine being hand delivered your brilliance from cloud nine? Sincerely, Madame Nanacakes

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Dec 30, 2012

Dec 30, 2012 at 10:34 AM UTC

curlie-fries-mcgee

Open Letter to Mr. Montoya

Mr Montoya I want to know Did you discover the great design of your art in the puffs of clouds hanging lazily in the sky In the eyes of stars did you push back the deafening city lights to hear the chords in your latest song? How is it that you find trinkets of brilliance like clovers in a field? I need to know where you felt the lines of your latest poem? Did you harvest them like peaches from the purple orange sunset? Can you lead me to where hearts have unfolded minds are open spirits are free like oceans after a storm I want to meet the muses that live between the pages of your notebooks wrap my mind in your leaves like fresh towels from the dryer did you chase them towards horizons unfounded did you hear your music in bellowing rainstorms The chords in the wind and thunder shaking your spinal chord What divine being hand delivered your brilliance from cloud nine? Sincerely, Madame Nanacakes

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Hello My Name It's Antonio Montoya You killed my father Prepare to die I say to the bottle And you ask Why? Have you not seen The Princess Bride!? The for finged man Killed his father! You ask me What's your point? I say It was Jose! Who killed dear old dad As I drink from the bottle Your expression turns sad & you pour out the rest Saying That's to bad

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May 2, 2014

May 2, 2014 at 1:37 AM UTC

KrakPott

My Name Is Antonio Montoya

Hello My Name It's Antonio Montoya You killed my father Prepare to die I say to the bottle And you ask Why? Have you not seen The Princess Bride!? The for finged man Killed his father! You ask me What's your point? I say It was Jose! Who killed dear old dad As I drink from the bottle Your expression turns sad & you pour out the rest Saying That's to bad

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Feel my spirit, obsessive and fiery. It’s unrestrained, even with your cruelty. I have been blessed, God inhabits within me. Shan’t be conquered, your attack will be futile. Eternally, my fire will ceaselessly burn. Tongues won’t be vile, for I stay deaf with passion. ©MMV Abad as Phoenix Montoya @ June 29, 2011 'Let no one hold us down.'

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Jul 2, 2011

Jul 2, 2011 at 5:19 AM UTC

mmv-abad

Passion

Feel my spirit, obsessive and fiery. It’s unrestrained, even with your cruelty. I have been blessed, God inhabits within me. Shan’t be conquered, your attack will be futile. Eternally, my fire will ceaselessly burn. Tongues won’t be vile, for I stay deaf with passion. ©MMV Abad as Phoenix Montoya @ June 29, 2011 'Let no one hold us down.'

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Las piquetas de los gallos cavan buscando la aurora, cuando por el monte oscuro baja Soledad Montoya. Cobre amarillo, su carne, huele a caballo y a sombra. Yunques ahumados sus pechos, gimen canciones redondas. Soledad, ¿por quién preguntas sin compaña y a estas horas? Pregunte por quien pregunte, dime: ¿a ti qué se te importa? Vengo a buscar lo que busco, mi alegría y mi persona. Soledad de mis pesares, caballo que se desboca, al fin encuentra la mar y se lo tragan las olas. No me recuerdes el mar, que la pena negra, brota en las tierras de aceituna bajo el rumor de las hojas. ¡Soledad, qué pena tienes! ¡Qué pena tan lastimosa! Lloras zumo de limón agrio de espera y de boca. ¡Qué pena tan grande! Corro mi casa como una loca, mis dos trenzas por el suelo, de la cocina a la alcoba. ¡Qué pena! Me estoy poniendo de azabache carne y ropa. ¡Ay, mis camisas de hilo! ¡Ay, mis muslos de amapola! Soledad: lava tu cuerpo con agua de las alondras, y deja tu corazón en paz, Soledad Montoya. Por abajo canta el río: volante de cielo y hojas. Con flores de calabaza, la nueva luz se corona. ¡Oh pena de los gitanos! Pena limpia y siempre sola. ¡Oh pena de cauce oculto y madrugada remota!

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785

Federico García Lorca

Romance de la pena negra

Las piquetas de los gallos cavan buscando la aurora, cuando por el monte oscuro baja Soledad Montoya. Cobre amarillo, su carne, huele a caballo y a sombra. Yunques ahumados sus pechos, gimen canciones redondas. Soledad, ¿por quién preguntas sin compaña y a estas horas? Pregunte por quien pregunte, dime: ¿a ti qué se te importa? Vengo a buscar lo que busco, mi alegría y mi persona. Soledad de mis pesares, caballo que se desboca, al fin encuentra la mar y se lo tragan las olas. No me recuerdes el mar, que la pena negra, brota en las tierras de aceituna bajo el rumor de las hojas. ¡Soledad, qué pena tienes! ¡Qué pena tan lastimosa! Lloras zumo de limón agrio de espera y de boca. ¡Qué pena tan grande! Corro mi casa como una loca, mis dos trenzas por el suelo, de la cocina a la alcoba. ¡Qué pena! Me estoy poniendo de azabache carne y ropa. ¡Ay, mis camisas de hilo! ¡Ay, mis muslos de amapola! Soledad: lava tu cuerpo con agua de las alondras, y deja tu corazón en paz, Soledad Montoya. Por abajo canta el río: volante de cielo y hojas. Con flores de calabaza, la nueva luz se corona. ¡Oh pena de los gitanos! Pena limpia y siempre sola. ¡Oh pena de cauce oculto y madrugada remota!

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