"silva" poems
Poema Code Switching
By Aylin Soto-Aleman, Mercedes Caballero, Jesus Martinez, Marta Silva, Alex Alejandre
16.4.15
El final de una etapa
The end,
The beginning of a new journey
un camino
A un mundo extranjero
Un deseo, un sueño
A dream
Haciendo mi propio path
un camino
rostros nuevos , new failures
historias nuevas , new experiences
a sequel to my story, con hojas rotas
y mojadas
INMIGRACION
La memoria es un salto
entre continentes
crossing invisible borders
swimming in the rios
corriendo debajo del sol
La memoria es los abuelitos
ancestors cooking arroz y frijoles,
flan, driving through for hamburgers,
popcorn, sipping on horchata
Basilica
No todo lo que brilla es oro
not all rainbows and butterflies,
Clarita y sus cien años
Ruben y sus Tacos del Camino Real
El rancho
Midnight movies
Quiero a quien me quiera
It’s been a long day, without you my friend
Mexicanos al grito de guerra
Oh, say can you see by the dawn’s early light
Tepechitlan, Jerecuaro, Guanajuato
Long Beach, Argentine, KCK,
Chihuahua,
A Distance Between Us
El puente, the bridge.
Three Little Pigs en casa, at home,
don't step out marranitos,
la llorona te va a llevar
Memory is a leap
between continents
Cruzando fronteras invisibles,
Nadando en los rivers
Running under the sun
Born in different places
Pero las mismas intenciones
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 1:39 PM UTC
ROBBED BY TIME
Once upon a time,
A friend in need at all times,
Time was such my best friend
And so we hopped till the end.
To my castle he'd come,
For he was always welcome
Any time he ever wanted to,
Something my queen loved too.
We'd ramble woodland paths together
As he reeled off one story after another,
All day long having a good time
Till when castle bells could chime.
Time was not of this world,
But a great war lord
Of a very far away land,
King unto the realm of fairy land.
He who had a novelty crown
Bestowed upon him by a fairy clown,
A crown not of gold but of palest silver,
A precious gem from the fairyland silva.
With lurve in the air one morning,
My friendship with Time died aborning
When he chose to do something frivolous
Just when the Sun's rays were so glorious.
Time emblazed my heart,
Something that didst hurt
When he smiled unto my wife,
Such a great shock unto my life.
He gravitated towards her after a deep sigh,
Like a whirlwind, my mind whirled high.
He thus gallantly asked her for a dance,
And was granted a golden chance.
Keenly I watched this flint-hearted boy,
Thought him skint but feared not nor coy.
With alacrity and in broad day light
Together they cwtched in delight.
He whom I always enjoyed with the wine,
There enjoying with a queen of mine
Whilst committing mischief;
This friend of mine such a thief.
Time whispered thus into my Queen's ear,
Whispers I could hardly hear:
Alas! He promised her the moon
For they'd eloped by noon,
To places strange I might never have a clue,
To where mortals have never dared walk to,
All the way to the realm of fairy land,
Such, such a very far away land.
©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros
10th Aug 2016.
Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 9:09 PM UTC
Let us sleep
like the staircase
that once led up to the Temple Mount
no longer able to carry pious feet to prayer,
but the well experienced cracks
over which they once walked
expose the heavy burden
of well worn memories
under which we now slumber.
Sunrise from Masada.
The view from the casemate wall
of Silva's camp below.
Shadowy ghosts
are cast and scattered
and given voice as the wind
shouts through the buildings ruins
L'-he-rut Zi-yon
and there is no reply.
Only the songs of the Tristramit
who mimic the voices
of every child martyred here, singing:
*Shalom al Ziyon, Shalom al Ziyon"
and there is no reply,
only the dreams of the interrupted
and the disturbed peace
of excavated ruins.
Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 9:38 PM UTC
Ao Meu Padrinho José Silva
Que os anjos de Deus de protejam,
O paraíso todos desejam,
O teu espírito honesto e trabalhador,
Levam-te ao encontro do Deus Senhor.
Nesta terra longínqua onde o sol se deita,
Com uma miragem de carinho ela se enfeita,
Por entre arvoredos cheios de folhagem,
Eu Guardo tua terna imagem.
O bom Deus todos ama e consola,
Canção com o som da harpa ou da viola,
Neste mundo com Deus temos certeza,
Na morte conforto e grandeza.
Victor Marques
Jan 17, 2012
Jan 17, 2012 at 12:52 PM UTC
CORDEL TROVADO
*
Antonio Cabral Filho - Rj
*
Meu bisavô João Cabral
Padrasto do meu avô,
Não sabe quanto é legal
Me orgulhar de quem eu sou.
*
Meu avô “ José Cabral “
É José Pedro da Silva,
Mas acabou como tal
Pelas graças da mãe diva.
*
Meu pai honra meu avô,
São CABRAIS de alto renome.
Seus legados dão valor
A quem tem Cabral no nome.
*
ANTONIO CABRAL DA SILVA,
Que no Cavaco dedilha,
Espero que a lira sirva
De base na redondilha.
*
ANTONIO CABRAL é homem,
Pois homem tem que ser homem.
Quem não tem verve de ANTONIO,
Tire o Cabral do seu nome.
*
Sou ANTONIO CABRAL FILHO,
Que em vossa presença emigra;
Do pinto que não quer milho
João Cabral que lho diga.
*
Sei que não fez porque qui-lo,
Mas o Antonio Cabral,
Assim, solteiro, sem FILHO,
Não sou eu nem o LEGAL.
*
Todo CABRAL é parente,
Com raízes além mar,
Tem cara de boa gente,
Mas é bom não descuidar...
*
Antonio fui batizado
Por glória da devoção,
Mas CABRAL é meu legado
Pela pura tradição.
*
Aquele que nasce ANTONIO
Não se dobra pelo cobre,
Pois vem de filão idôneo
E tem espírito nobre.
***
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 9:43 PM UTC
Inspired by Jason Silva
There is a revolution in the way that we think
Each day we push our bodies, thoughts, and voices to the brink.
Most of us most of the time, see the world through a very small set of filters
We must break these filters and let our thoughts flourish instead of die and wilter.
This is a time of communication, connection, and collaborative innovation
This will bring us progress and give humanly thought salvation
You use perhaps one millionth of the potential energy that’s inside your head
Lost in vibration, are the ideas that are said.
In my mind it is life that gives meaning to life and what we do with life
By preserving knowledge and science with the creation of music and art are the gains of our strife.
In the science of today we become artist. In the art of today, we become scientist
We use this to progress our species to become worldly finalist
There are no boundaries. There are no fears
We use this to accomplish and not look to our rears
Imagination allows us to think beyond our limitation-
It allows us to conceive of what might be -
And go farther that we ever thought possible
No idea ever to grand or radical
The point is in order to use your head you must go out of your mind
In order for you to gain the knowledge needed to unbind
You have to get beyond your routine ways of thinking
In order for your mind to be free of pollution and shrinking
We can break free of our genetic heritage
We have circled the moon, artificially reproduced DNA, and cut our death percentage.
Why should death itself our last enemy be considered beyond conquest?
We as humans have defined ourselves by overcoming biological contests
We are teaching people how to use their head
And have their thoughts ultimately shed
You are ready to have your perspective about yourself and life dramatically changed
And have your body thoughts and life go beyond the possible range
Because you will be a different person, and you should be ready to face this possibility
Because soon we, ourselves will become whole new entities.
Dec 6, 2011
Dec 6, 2011 at 11:16 PM UTC
watch live here Free Diaz vs. Silva>> W.ATCH.ME/TRNktO
watch live here Free Diaz vs. Silva>> W.ATCH.ME/TRNktO
watch live here Free Diaz vs. Silva>> W.ATCH.ME/TRNktO
watch live here Free Diaz vs. Silva>> W.ATCH.ME/TRNktO
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 12:00 AM UTC
By avenues vague and secret,
visited by devils and regret,
whither the Wraith of Manes
stands firm and tall and reigns,
thither in the dark acres stead;
and like a vapor inside my head,
lingers there to haunt and spread.
Abysmal troughs and a great deluge,
and rifts, and dens, and silva's huge,
with silhouette's none can recover
for the weeps that pour all over;
ridges plunging into Nevermore,
into waters devoid of any shore;
swells that spasmodically aspire,
upsurging in welkins full of fire.
For in my soul regrets are legion,
but it's an irenic and placid region-
because the wraith which did haunt,
is now seen as wispy, thin, and gaunt.
I wend my way straight through him,
and I refuse to ever again view him.
The Wraith of Manes is now banished,
from terrible dreams, now vanished.
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 11:41 PM UTC
¡Tu hogar está sin luz! ¿La noche acaso
Descorrió en él sus lúgubres crespones
Sepultando tu sol en el ocaso?
Hoy no son las amargas decepciones
Las que tu frente dejan abatida
Sobre escombros de bellas ilusiones.
¡Tu hogar está sin luz! llora afligida
La que sobre este mundanal desierto,
Tesoro de tu amor, vela tu vida.
No sueñas el dolor; estás despierto
Y una voz de martirio en tu alma grita:
¡Tu hogar está sin luz! ¡tu padre ha muerto!
Dentro del pecho sin vigor palpita
El corazón que juvenil y ardiente,
Ayer la coronó dicha infinita.
El ser que amante, tierno y reverente
Tiene muerta en los ojos la mirada
El labio mudo y sin calor la frente...
¡Oh destino cruel! la Parca airada,
Lo arrancó de las penas de este suelo,
Para llevarlo a la mansión soñada.
Tiemblas de pena, lloras sin consuelo...
No te conforma su eternal ventura,
Ni puedes con placer mirar el cielo...
Es sagrada y es noble tu amargura,
Llora sobre su cuerpo, y que tu llanto
Riegue en lluvia de amor su sepultura.
Él te veló de niño y te amó tanto,
Que vas a ser un culto en su memoria,
Y un sol eterno en su cariño santo...
Este sol en tu vida transitoria
Donde todo al abismo se derrumba,
Alumbrará tu hogar... verá tu gloria,
¿Quieres que en el pesar tu alma sucumba?
¡Tu hogar está sin luz! ¡y es tu destino
Darle esa luz que le robó la tumba!
Si el hombre es en la tierra un peregrino,
Lucha con el dolor y con la suerte;
Tu padre ayer te señaló un camino,
Síguelo siempre y honrarás su muerte.
428
Her fate was far worse than death
Fused to that ancient tree
An inseparable mass of delicate skin
And fragile bones
Like a macabre piece of art
Was she displayed in those dark woods
Her exposed ribcage showing
A bright red heart
Eternally pumping blood
Into a pool beneath the tree
Her skin pale white
And a sly smile on her face
Her deep green eyes
Enjoying every moment of her torture
Aug 4, 2017
Aug 4, 2017 at 10:56 PM UTC
Com ousadia universal em vida,
Amaste tua terra querida .
Tua família e amigos que aqui estão,
Te lembram com saudade e emoção.
Exemplo de lealdade e bem querer
Te fizeram assim viver.
Com sonhos e anseios como todos nós,
Foste amado por esposa, filhos netos e avós .
Ser humano de honestidade exemplar,
Seu querido pai Amilcar quero lembrar.
E que todos os seus descendentes,
O amem hoje , amanhã e sempre.
Mereces que o teu berço Tua seja sempre divulgado,
O teu sorriso sempre lembrado,
Que o bom Deus no paraíso te tenha abençoado,
E o teu nome fique hoje imortalizado.
Victor Marques.
May 17, 2024
May 17, 2024 at 5:57 PM UTC
Free from assumptions,
from the endless “why?”
the burning need for a unique sign.
I move just one small step back
to protect my lands not taken.
Sometimes enough feels quite soft
like a rotten tree trunk covered in moss.
I can sit and rest for a while,
diving deeply into the forest of tangled thoughts.
This time, I would like to be gentle and tender
to my inner world, to my tired soul.
I let it be calm, I allow this time
to give myself kindness.
Apr 3, 2025
Apr 3, 2025 at 6:15 PM UTC