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"verguenza" poems
His first love should've been basketball and his second, girls because his name was Juan and he represented the white, red and blue bandera, *Dominicano puro cien porciento del capital entiendes compai?* understand homie? and that label meant that he threw empty beer bottles at abandoned houses and smoked second hand **** because he was too broke to buy from the good dealers and he hollered at girls with wide hips and short skirts that walked by (oye mama tu si eres linda ven aquí!) they would giggle and roll their eyes at him but of course because he was one of those light skinned boys, the type with light eyes and smooth brown hair that every girl dreamed about, they would holler at him back the very next day // His first love was basketball and his second, was not girls, his second love was words; it was the craziest ******* thing in the world, to be a boy and not be crazy over women is one thing, but to be Dominican and not in love with every muchacha en el Barrio es una cosa de los maricones! as his best friend would say as he shook his head disappointedly, muthafucka had the finest beauties the Caribbean had to offer swooning as he spoke, and he was in love with palabras de los gringos? but it didn’t matter, he loved words like the junkies loved drugs and like his best friend loved women, and while every other sin verguenza on his block would dance to the hypnotizing beat of merengue and bachata, he would watch by on the roof of the abandoned building nearby and he would write it all down: how the lights of the neighborhood had never seen more alive and how old man Victor looked youthful dancing next to the neighborhood ***** and how his mother looked happier than she had in a long time, swaying her body to the calming voice of the old music she hadn't head in a while and yes he was still the boy that threw beer bottles at abandoned windows and smoked second hand **** because he was too broke to afford the real stuff and he still hollered at girls who wore shirts too low but in the shadow of all the happiness up on the roof, he was not Juan, best basketball player on the team, Dominicano cien porciento y no te lo olvides, repping the white, red and blue bandera instead he was Juan, the light skinned boy who liked the palabras de los gringos because of the way they rolled off his tongue and he had decided that he liked it better that way (h.l.)
0
Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 6:28 PM UTC
amor de pendejo (foolish love)
His first love should've been basketball and his second, girls because his name was Juan and he represented the white, red and blue bandera, *Dominicano puro cien porciento del capital entiendes compai?* understand homie? and that label meant that he threw empty beer bottles at abandoned houses and smoked second hand **** because he was too broke to buy from the good dealers and he hollered at girls with wide hips and short skirts that walked by (oye mama tu si eres linda ven aquí!) they would giggle and roll their eyes at him but of course because he was one of those light skinned boys, the type with light eyes and smooth brown hair that every girl dreamed about, they would holler at him back the very next day // His first love was basketball and his second, was not girls, his second love was words; it was the craziest ******* thing in the world, to be a boy and not be crazy over women is one thing, but to be Dominican and not in love with every muchacha en el Barrio es una cosa de los maricones! as his best friend would say as he shook his head disappointedly, muthafucka had the finest beauties the Caribbean had to offer swooning as he spoke, and he was in love with palabras de los gringos? but it didn’t matter, he loved words like the junkies loved drugs and like his best friend loved women, and while every other sin verguenza on his block would dance to the hypnotizing beat of merengue and bachata, he would watch by on the roof of the abandoned building nearby and he would write it all down: how the lights of the neighborhood had never seen more alive and how old man Victor looked youthful dancing next to the neighborhood ***** and how his mother looked happier than she had in a long time, swaying her body to the calming voice of the old music she hadn't head in a while and yes he was still the boy that threw beer bottles at abandoned windows and smoked second hand **** because he was too broke to afford the real stuff and he still hollered at girls who wore shirts too low but in the shadow of all the happiness up on the roof, he was not Juan, best basketball player on the team, Dominicano cien porciento y no te lo olvides, repping the white, red and blue bandera instead he was Juan, the light skinned boy who liked the palabras de los gringos because of the way they rolled off his tongue and he had decided that he liked it better that way (h.l.)
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42
Que dolor! Fisico, anatomico, somatico Que tormento! Tetrico, tragico, terrorifico Que podre darte, ahora? En esta desgraciada tortura? Lagrimas empachadas de verguenza y que insensatez que no me dijistes lo que me distes que cada vez entrastes mirando mi semblante gritaba, chillaba me descuartizabas por ti, para mi para nada para lagrimas para conocida rotura y poca recompensa muchas disculpas mias pero eran tuyas
0
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 11:10 PM UTC
Infectada
Dime que estas pensando por favor quiero ver que hay en tu corazon Dime eso que te da verguenza contar quiero ver dentro de ti Dime a donde quisieras volar para entender a donde quieres ir Por favor cuentame lo que te aflige que tambien lo quiero sentir Aburreme con lo que te gusta Aburreme con lo que amas Aburreme con lo que te apasiona No te prometo nada Ensename tus secretos Y yo te enseno los mios Que gane el mas extrano Que gane el priemro que se queda dormido Si no hacemos nada que no sea vacia Si ni hacemos nada que no sea aburrida Que hacer nada no es una cosa vacia pero si esta vacia que sea de alergria
0
Jun 25, 2025
Jun 25, 2025 at 6:33 AM UTC
Unknow 4