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"telenovela" poems
we cant be. we cant be because i cant be its just me dont u know that every time we're together i get nervous because.... because. you see i can never really articulate what i feel about you i feel like what we have isnt real i can never be my real self when im with you i guess its cuz i never feel enough we will not be the greatest story or that sappy romcom telenovela with better looking actors playing our lives but we will be a great lesson to those who have felt like they werent enough for that certain someone because they've been rejected a couple of times hold your chin up. its hard i know to feel like you will never be enough im still trying myself the climb is hard and im gonna fall a couple of times but its okay i let you ruin me i let your words that stung my heart coarse through the veins of my body and ruin every part of my being im a mess now and whos the bigger blame? is it you or is it me doesnt really matter because we cant be. we cant be because i cant be
0
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 5:41 AM UTC
cant
*Last night was hard for everyone, for all of us The moon noticed your obvious absence and lit bright trying to trace you from every corner of the universe the stars were sad and they tried so hard to blink back their tears even the nimbus clouds detected the heartbreaking melancholy and tried to blanket them from the chilling cold of solitude but the twinkling stars still struggled to peep through the blanket cast between them and your absence like little children afraid of the dark until the clouds gave up for even they ,no matter how strong they pretended to be the weight of despondence got the better of them and they subsequently expressed their pain in burdened tears of rain the roof tried to hold the tears from my unconscious sight but my ears sadly caught the pattering sobs darkness whispered some advise but my ears were too sad to hear and my brain numbed by the scintillating thoughts about you I tried to kick out the emptiness through listening to the radio but my fingers were too frozen and weak to turn the **** so I gave up and just sat quietly inside the net listening to a silence whose eloquence was labyrinthine and discombobulating because weaved within mosquitoes did their best to sing me a lullaby but in anger I violently swatted as many and as many did die it still was hell hot with my limpid Heart ice cold yet I still hoped against all odds you would appear I waited for you like Santa waiting for Christmas, like anxious Jews waiting for the coming Messiah, like the Mediterranean sea patiently waits for waters of the Nile, like a Groom waits for his Bride as she walks across the isle, I waited for you like a lass waiting for a Telenovela... or a staunch catholic waiting for a positive eventuality to his Novena, I waited like the minute hand waits for the second hand of the clock like the dull pulse of the heart waits to happen after the loud one... I waited for you like an insomniac waiting for sleep, sadly sleep never came... so I gave up to wait for the next day like the invisible sun through a night knowing in the dawn my voice might reach you like beautiful rays and whisper to the far that is near how I wish you were here in a message right into your small pretty ears I missed you like a baby misses its mother,desperately and in tears*
0
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 1:43 PM UTC
Missing You Hurts
*Last night was hard for everyone, for all of us The moon noticed your obvious absence and lit bright trying to trace you from every corner of the universe the stars were sad and they tried so hard to blink back their tears even the nimbus clouds detected the heartbreaking melancholy and tried to blanket them from the chilling cold of solitude but the twinkling stars still struggled to peep through the blanket cast between them and your absence like little children afraid of the dark until the clouds gave up for even they ,no matter how strong they pretended to be the weight of despondence got the better of them and they subsequently expressed their pain in burdened tears of rain the roof tried to hold the tears from my unconscious sight but my ears sadly caught the pattering sobs darkness whispered some advise but my ears were too sad to hear and my brain numbed by the scintillating thoughts about you I tried to kick out the emptiness through listening to the radio but my fingers were too frozen and weak to turn the **** so I gave up and just sat quietly inside the net listening to a silence whose eloquence was labyrinthine and discombobulating because weaved within mosquitoes did their best to sing me a lullaby but in anger I violently swatted as many and as many did die it still was hell hot with my limpid Heart ice cold yet I still hoped against all odds you would appear I waited for you like Santa waiting for Christmas, like anxious Jews waiting for the coming Messiah, like the Mediterranean sea patiently waits for waters of the Nile, like a Groom waits for his Bride as she walks across the isle, I waited for you like a lass waiting for a Telenovela... or a staunch catholic waiting for a positive eventuality to his Novena, I waited like the minute hand waits for the second hand of the clock like the dull pulse of the heart waits to happen after the loud one... I waited for you like an insomniac waiting for sleep, sadly sleep never came... so I gave up to wait for the next day like the invisible sun through a night knowing in the dawn my voice might reach you like beautiful rays and whisper to the far that is near how I wish you were here in a message right into your small pretty ears I missed you like a baby misses its mother,desperately and in tears*
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38
Ever since I was a little girl, I had always wanted to be pretty. To be a beautiful princess, a tall and irresistible super model, the gorgeous actress of a telenovela, or the weather girl that always looks fantastic, even though that's not really the purpose of her job. Laughing, dreaming, and playing silly games. All that to grow up in a society where they DEMAND YOU to be pretty because if you aren't, you'll never be good enough. In a society where you are judged by your looks and not by your skills, where you are treated as a ****** object. I didn't mean that when I said I wanted to be pretty! Being catcalled, sexually and psychologically  harassed, **** attempts... and the list continues. Everytime, going out with fear, dressing as covered as possible, crossing to the other side of the street and being forced to be extremely prejudiced with people, because you never know if you are going to be the next victim. I DON'T WANNA BE PRETTY ANYMORE. I wanna be smart, capable, kind, loving, respectful, honest, funny, creative, generous, strong, loyal, determined, humble... But above all, I wanna be RESPECTED FOR WHO I AM.
0
May 30, 2019
May 30, 2019 at 10:31 AM UTC
Pretty
You can blame Love for what it did to you, You can shame Love whatever you like, You can hate it, or crush it, or just end up worthless because of Love. But just remember that Love can't be wrong, Love never hurt you back or slam your mouth when you ditch it, Love just keep pursuing you by it's kindness and pureness blood, There's no plan to fight you, If Love did something wrong with you, or hurt you instead of making you happy, or doing unfair with you. Just remember, that Love always right, If Love did it wrong, it comes to you back, What've you been with Love? You feel empty, full of dullness, or useless, That's okay it's Love.. Love isn't like what you see on tv, you would expect such as romance, or pathetic as telenovela Just remember, It's okay that's Love. - dlx
0
Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 10:59 AM UTC
It's okay that's love
Trying to get through This endless pile of papers, I brew another *** of coffee, Smoke another cigarette, Think I might be dying (for good measure) And close the door. But all I can think about is you Out there on the sofa Under the yellow-and-white afghan Shooting up and watching that old telenovela So I give up. And I grab us a couple of PBRs And we lay there together, Talking about your metaphysical journey. I say something funny And you go all red And you hit me so hard The wind all comes out of my chest. I'm upstairs on the bed Crying And there's eyeliner down past my cheekbones. And you come in And you kiss my forehead And I close my eyes And I give in. Waking up with your arm slung over my back Incense on the table burning down to nothing Like the remnants of my life, I can't remember what made me love you.
0
Oct 27, 2010
Oct 27, 2010 at 1:26 PM UTC
You and Me, Baby Pt.4
Here is a list of things that are bigger, greater than all of the world's oceans, bigger than the storms in the seas, than all the islands in the Pacific, connecting all of us together, being one great channel of culture... Telenovela, chismes, galeones, teleserye, chismis, galleon. 𝘚𝘪𝘣𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪 𝘓𝘢𝘱𝘶-𝘓𝘢𝘱𝘶, 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪 𝘔𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘯. 𝘌𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘥𝘢 𝘯𝘪 𝘔𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘯? 𝘒𝘢𝘩𝘶𝘭𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘯. Sangría? No, sangre de Magallanes. 𝘕𝘪ñ𝘰𝘴, 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘢 𝘦𝘯 𝘷𝘦𝘻 𝘥𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘻𝘢𝘳 𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘰 𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴. And believe it or not; Bulerías, danza, bachata, habaneras. How do you like your coffee, bebe? Con leche? Bueno. Evaporada and condensada? Tequila, San Miguel, Mezcal, Corona, Cerveza, Serbesa, Cerrado, Sarado. 𝘈𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘰 𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘨𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘢, 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘰. Actually, how do you like your coffee? 𝘛𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘢 𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘧é? 𝘚𝘪 𝘯𝘰, 𝘯𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘦𝘥𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘶 𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘰. So do you like it hot or con hielo? And of course; Canciones, c/kanta, And nowㅡreggateon, budots. Gasolina? Aserejé? Macarena? Bad Bunny, being our new Columbus. Playitas, islas, karagatan, nuestro paraíso. Mas chismes, mas tazas de cafe. How do you think we're so far yet so alike? Of all these things? Con chisme? Claro. So which one first? The juiciest or latest?
0
Jul 22, 2024
Jul 22, 2024 at 4:20 AM UTC
Telenovela, Chisme, Galeón
Here is a list of things that are bigger, greater than all of the world's oceans, bigger than the storms in the seas, than all the islands in the Pacific, connecting all of us together, being one great channel of culture... Telenovela, chismes, galeones, teleserye, chismis, galleon. 𝘚𝘪𝘣𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪 𝘓𝘢𝘱𝘶-𝘓𝘢𝘱𝘶, 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪 𝘔𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘯. 𝘌𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘥𝘢 𝘯𝘪 𝘔𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘯? 𝘒𝘢𝘩𝘶𝘭𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘯. Sangría? No, sangre de Magallanes. 𝘕𝘪ñ𝘰𝘴, 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘢 𝘦𝘯 𝘷𝘦𝘻 𝘥𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘻𝘢𝘳 𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘰 𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴. And believe it or not; Bulerías, danza, bachata, habaneras. How do you like your coffee, bebe? Con leche? Bueno. Evaporada and condensada? Tequila, San Miguel, Mezcal, Corona, Cerveza, Serbesa, Cerrado, Sarado. 𝘈𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘰 𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘨𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘢, 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘰. Actually, how do you like your coffee? 𝘛𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘢 𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘧é? 𝘚𝘪 𝘯𝘰, 𝘯𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘦𝘥𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘶 𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘰. So do you like it hot or con hielo? And of course; Canciones, c/kanta, And nowㅡreggateon, budots. Gasolina? Aserejé? Macarena? Bad Bunny, being our new Columbus. Playitas, islas, karagatan, nuestro paraíso. Mas chismes, mas tazas de cafe. How do you think we're so far yet so alike? Of all these things? Con chisme? Claro. So which one first? The juiciest or latest?
Continue reading...
36
"the end" a phrase often used at the end of a story, a movie, a telenovela, a book i have always hated those words since I was little to me, it meant that I had come to the end of something. usually something I had enjoyed. that there was nothing to look forward to after those two simple words were written or shown on the screen. i hate that phrase.
0
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 12:50 PM UTC
Untitled