"tenerife" poems
ed,
i "don't" know what me and my
"little bird" would do without you cause'
"uni" "take it back" to
"grade 8"as you
" kiss me" under the light of "all of the stars" cause'
"i see fire" when we both collide
and this "lego house" we had built for
me you and this "small bump"
so please don't "runaway"
but if you do i understand cause'
"even my dad does sometimes"
but don't fly away forever like a
"firefly" cause in the mornin' we'll sip some
"cold coffee" or we can get "drunk"
and you could "give me love"
but you'd have to "wake me up"
cause after all i am on "the a team"
watching as "one" of the "autumn leaves"
fall slowly down
and i realize that "im a mess"
so please don't "runaway"
we could take a "photograph" with
"the man" and "Nina"
or we could look at the "tenerife sea" while
we acknowledge our "afire love" and then i will
pull up my "shirtsleeves" and you can
feel my "bloodstream"
and maybe we could "sing"
what? i guess this whole time i was "thinking out loud"
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 6:53 PM UTC
Madrid quedó vacía
sólo estamos los otros
y por eso
se siente la presencia de las plazas
los jardines y fuentes
los parques y glorietas
como siempre en verano
madrid se ha convertido
en una calma unánime
pero agradece nuestra permanencia
a contrapelo de los más
es un agosto de eclosión privada
sin mercaderes ni paraguas
sin comitivas ni mitines
en ningún otro mes del larguísimo año
existe enlace tan sutil
entre la poderosa
metrópoli
y nosotros pecadores afortunadamente
los árboles han vuelto a ser
protagonistas del aire gratuito
como antes
cuando los ecologistas
no eran todavía imprescindibles
también los pájaros disfrutan
ala batiente de una urbe
que inesperadamente se transforma
en vivible y volable
los madrileños han huido
a la montaña y a marbella
a ciudadela y benidorm
a formentor y tenerife
y nos entregan sin malicia
a los otros que ahora
por fin somos nosotros
un madrid sorprendente
casi vacante despejado
limpio de hollín y disponible
en él andamos como dueños
tercermundistas del arrobo
en solidarias pulcras avenidas
sudando con unción la gota gorda
el verano no es tiempo de fragor
sino de verde tregua
empalagados del rencor insomne
estamos como nunca
dispuestos a la paz
en el rato estival
la historia se detiene
y todos descubrimos una vida postiza
pero cuando el asueto se termine
volverán a sonar
las bocinas los gritos las sirenas los mueras y los vivas
bombas y zambombazos
y las dulces metódicas campanas
durante tres fecundas estaciones
nadie se acordará
de pájaros y árboles
4k
...my mom tells me as she tucks me to sleep.
Her eyes are bright blue with similarities to the Tenerife Sea. Solid, bright but with an icy touch. I believe her.
Then my eyelids flutter open after a kiss and I stare into a young man’s brown eyes. Solid, deep, full, sincere, warm. I trust him more than I should.
My own eyes aren’t that easy to decode. They’re a complete mess.
A chaos of color conflicting with eachother, instead of settling on one.
Blue when I wake up,but green when I step outside.
If eyes really are the windows to the soul what does that say about me?
Am I splatters of different colors floating around like petals in a mysterious endless lake in the forbidden part of the forest?
Am I a rainbow only to be seen clearly when both rain and sun hits upon me?
Am I a bouquet filled with different flowers plucked different places with different stories?
Forests are easy to get lost i.
Lakes are easy to drown in.
Rainbows are not tangible.
Flowers are pretty but their lifespan is short after having been plucked.
I wish I wasn’t a chaotic mess.
That I wasn’t torn in between the things I want, the things I can, the things I have, the things I want to be.
I hope that one day my eyes and mind will make up their will.
But for right now, I my eyes may stay a chameleon.
Only seen by those who really see.
Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 1:18 PM UTC
What's rendered me an impotent of life,
while others live a life with vibrant hum?
A curse that's hedged me by a wall of strife!
While other lives with fine success are rife,
my own's deplete, a curse has sure become
what's rendered me an impotent of life!
Through failure to provide I've lost a wife!
Though I believe, there are those doubts in some,
a curse that's hedged me by a wall of strife
cannot exist, they say, I'm a midwife
to all my troubles, I am who has done
what's rendered me an impotent of life!
Or maybe I've insulted a spaewife,
who cast, to love and money make me dumb,
a curse that's hedged me by a wall of strife.
I've searched from North Recife to Tenerife,
and failed to find a way to make undone
what's rendered me an impotent of life,
a curse that's hedged me by a wall of strife!
(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 6:27 PM UTC
Right now I’m alive
For now.
How long will I thrive?
Don’t know.
For most of Eternity
I’ll be dead.
Such is Mortality
It’s said.
Let me meditate on that.
Let me contemplate the moment.
Sitting on my mat
Dreaming a romant.
Yes I’m alive
Of that I’ve no doubt.
But where’s my drive?
I must have a scout…
Been to Tenerife and Malta
Scotland and Wales.
Never Gibraltar,
Few travelling tales.
But I’m not a roamer,
Rather stay at home.
Yes ever the homer,
And often alone.
My laptop and telly
Are all that I need.
Give me Keats and Shelley
For a good read.
So it’s right in the Now
I really must stay
No why, who or how
To darken my day.
No thoughts of the past
Or dreams of the future.
Make each second last,
Turn off that computer.
This moment has gone,
Now that you’re reading.
Let’s have another one,
That’s where I’m leading.
For now never lasts,
That we all know.
It’s lost in our pasts,
No longer on show.
I try here to paint
What has been and gone.
An attempt to create
The eternal song.
Paul Butters
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 12:50 PM UTC
You sung her a song
while watching the stars
You made her believe in forever
With just one strum of your guitar
She never forgot the song
you sang to her that night
You even danced with her
You filled her heart with delight
You held her close to you
Your hand on her waist
You are the memory
She wish to erase
Bitter sweet thoughts
fill her mind everyday
When she saw you with
another girl in the hallway
Sweet and cute
you both acted
You didn't see her
You were too distracted
Quietly, She sat
A few rows behind you two
She wishes you knew how she felt
She wishes she told you
You thought she didn't like you
but you didn't notice the signs
Shy smiles, touchy hands
You didn't read between the lines
She takes half the blame
You liked her and she liked you
She regrets not admitting it
She thinks about the chances she blew
When the song plays
She remembers the dance as if a must
She remembers the look in your eye
As if no one knows anything but us
But life goes on
She'll live her life with this regret
You'll live yours never knowing
Maybe soon she'll forget
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 8:25 AM UTC
Con ciudades y autores frecuentadosVenecia / Guanajuato / Maupassant /
Leningrado / Sousándrade / Berlín /
Cortázar / Bioy Casares / Medellín /
Lisboa / Sartre / Oslo / Valle Inclán /
Kafka / Managua / Faulkner / Paul Celan /
Ítalo Svevo / Quito / Bergamín /
Buenos Aires / La Habana / Graham Greene /
Copenhague / Quiroga / Thomas Mann /
Onetti / Siena / Shakespeare / Anatole
France / Saramago / Atenas / Heinrich Böll /
Cádiz / Martí / Gonzalo de Berceo /
París / Vallejo / Alberti / Santa Cruz
de Tenerife / Roma / Marcel Proust /
Pessoa / Baudelaire / Montevideo
1.3k
The Wit is nimble, and can skip
The longest distances with ease.
It flits on an extended trip,
One day, and back from overseas.
The Wisdom hasn’t cleared the dock,
A wide, and long, and sluggish ship,
Her cargo a tremendous stock,
And filled as if by faucet drip.
But such a huge displacement packs,
What takes a flimsy, skimming skiff
More than a hundred there’s and back’s,
A bounty to save Tenerife.
Dec 6, 2021
Dec 6, 2021 at 1:10 PM UTC
the sea the skin of a wet dog,
black the beach; a ruined church,
the coastal lights a string of lesser ways;
we are as empty as a dropped shell
pulled across the ebb, a ripple of salt..
and as the night gets deeper
a dragon breathes like the tide:
no mistake, the dark needs its hours
Aug 18, 2017
Aug 18, 2017 at 3:50 AM UTC
He’d lain off the island just a week,
It was really only a reef,
That ****** up out of the waters
Ninety miles from Tenerife.
It didn’t show up on a local map
And he thought he’d heard it said,
‘Be sure, if you think of sailing west
That you miss the Isle of the Dead.’
On the higher part was a grove of trees
He explored when he went ashore,
And hidden deep in the foliage was
A house, not seen before.
It was made of wood, and covered in vines
That acted as camouflage,
It couldn’t be seen ‘til you came up close,
And stood with the door ajar.
He thought it must be deserted, though
A garden was weeded out,
And then, as he had approached the door
He was pulled up short, by a shout.
‘Who’s this, who enters my private grounds,
Who’s this, who plays with my head?
We never have visitors here, you know,
For this is the Isle of the Dead!’
He turned, was facing a sprightly girl
With a mass of auburn hair,
She wore a costume of paw paw leaves
That had made him stand and stare,
Her eyes reflected the brightest blue
Of the ocean, out in the bay,
And her mouth affected the slightest pout
As he wondered what to say.
A woman came through the cottage door
And she said, ‘Come in, Narreen,
We never talk to the strangers, for
You don’t know where they’ve been.’
Her manner was quite unfriendly as
She gestured to the shore,
‘You’d better be making way, my friend,’
Then shut the makeshift door.
He slept on his vessel every night
But he came ashore at dawn,
Hoping to get the briefest sight
Of the girl, for his heart was torn.
He hesitated to call it love
But it grew, each time he saw,
Her figure appear from the grove of trees,
Or saunter along the shore.
She finally came to talk to him
And squatted to hear him tell,
Tales of the wondrous world out there
Of jewels and gold as well,
Her eyes grew brighter with every tale
And he said, ‘You should come with me,
We’ll sail on the balmy Autumn swell
And you’ll see the world for free.’
Her sister came to the beach one day
And she took the girl back home,
‘I think that it’s time you sailed away,
We haven’t the need to roam.’
But he came ashore the following day
And he lured the girl to his boat,
She seemed surprised at the size of it
And the fact that it could float.
He tried to sooth, as he raised the sail
‘We’ll just go out for a spin,’
But she was suddenly nervous, and
She asked that they go back in.
He thought that he’d made the girl his own
As they sailed from the bay, at last,
But then he noticed the withered crone
Who clung, in death, to the mast!
David Lewis Paget
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 9:28 PM UTC
I still know how you take your coffee
And how you prefer baths
But your legs are too long to sit comfortably
You’re all long limbs and bones
Soft skin and freckles
I remember falling in love through a computer screen
Watching your hair grow out
As we grew apart
Sixteen was magic for me
I met you and never went back
Even now I remember the curves of your back
And the night of our first date
Ice cream in May never felt more right
You still have my sweater
I still have forgotten hair ties
And your dads hat from a few summers ago
I can’t let go of you completely
You have a piece of me forever
And I don’t want it back
I just want to see you again
So I can thank you for loving me
When nobody else could
Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 10:18 PM UTC
Alguna vez en palma de mallorca
hallé en el borne dos filas de árboles
como las que hubo en un recodo
del viejo parque urbano
en la habana otra vez
pensé que el malecón
era como la rambla
en santa cruz de tenerife
hay una larga franja
como la de pocitos
la gente que camina en las calles de atenas
se asemeja a la nuestra
sólo que al mediodía
en helsinki si escucho cómo hablan
me parece lunfardopero nunca lo entiendo
el cielo de la noche blanca de leningrado
me recuerda mi cieloen tardes de tormenta
en buenos aires hay un barrio
flores
que puede confundirse con la aguada
el rastro madrileño
es una feria de tristán narvaja
sólo que gigantesca
ahora por fin
están aquí a mi alcance
parque rambla idioma firmamento
recodos calle feria esquinas
ya no preciso referencias
357
The thunder got locked into the dreary sky
Knells, kettles, little nullified and filling voids rather easily
I in the waters had some hundred men, with fibs and pies
Who was looking for a way to make waves with rib-steaks
The beast wandering the houses reeking of suicide
Take me, don't be afraid, grab me by the neck
The sea next to the northern droning ocean
Take me through the cloudy crosswinds, running far
Beyond adventure and danger beyond the Tenerife bay
Take me down like the killer down best friend lane
Friendly with the rider in the south
Stormy with the strength of the crowd
Fluent with the crime, knowing of the curse
All this knowledge is in vain if you suffer from being unloved
Aug 7, 2019
Aug 7, 2019 at 5:27 AM UTC
unwashed shrimp; sick pink wishes
putrid puking and hot weather flashes
headaches and nausea for forgetting me
raw plates of karmic misery, i drank too much
I'll weather it with you through the phone
congealed seafood skies when i was alone
bred the bacteria that made you so ill
petri dish summer, i never wanted
to **** you, i drank too much
forty degrees like a tenerife beach
maybe from now you'll remain within reach
below the surface marine life bubbles
the fish of my thoughts will swim out of trouble
from now on
maybe I won't drink too much
Sep 2, 2020
Sep 2, 2020 at 7:03 AM UTC
Thats nice
Oh, I like that
It'll look good on the shelf
Now stuck in that drawer, gathering ill heath
The football programmes
The bottles of bleach from the Tenerife sun-tan
The school nativity play from your neighbour Stan
All shoved in the closet
With the receipt for the apartment deposit
Gathering dust for that day that you want it
Forgotten in the turns of time
Like that vinegar once bought decayed in brine
Stuck in the cupboard behind the lemon and lime
We look at it and always sadly mutter
I love it
I'll use it one day
This endless debris of useless, worthless, selfless,
Clutter
Sep 3, 2021
Sep 3, 2021 at 11:45 AM UTC