Best Barcelona Poems
My Barcelona
My fc Barcelona,
More than a team,
My heart has been seduced,
By your style of play.
The sun of European
football,
You have brought joy and
glory to her.
When you broke the arms
of santos,
The prince of South America
In Japan.
I always love to set my feet
On the blessed land,
Camp Nou.
Where the foundations was
built with success.
Where many mighty men,
Dread to play.
Where mourinho and
madrid, were wounded 5-0.
And Milan sank.
The sky of Camp Nou,
Is painted blue and scarlet,
And there the chants of
blaugrana,
From my white brothers,
Sends sweet smelling
savour
To my ears.
Even the current king of
football, was brewed
In La Masia.
And from Camp Nou he has
ruled the
World of football for four
years.
Many trophies dance in your
Cabinet,
And it's still hungry for
many
Trophies this year,
Which will be quenched.
This season's champions
league and Laliga leading
the way.
Not even Anceloti can stop
us, on our way to Laliga.
And bayern will be beaten,
on our road to champions
league
Final.
My Barça,
I will always love you till the
end of time.
BARCELONA FLAMENCO
clicking of heels, like torrential downpour. guitar
plucking at the eardrums, chest wall erupting.
like a hurricane of crisp crimson leaves of Autumn ~
a raked pile, blowing around in tumultuous sweep,
her skirt, spread out in the expanse of rubious dawn,
passion’s glorious splendor, a prolific hunger.
his eyes dance as frenetic flames, hypnotized
by Spain’s red cape. His imagination, like a bull,
thunders, steaming nostrils, horny stabs at the
glorious threads of her swirling romantic escapade.
buxom black smoke and radiant yellow-gold crackles,
whip the frenzy, of her smoking hot Barcelona flamenco.
he nearly succumbs, exhausted from the steam room,
the ferocious red waves lapping at his face, his feet,
his heart. he decides he must meet her, when the fire
dims, douses, settles. he must charm the incubus.
9/22/2017
Poems That Paint A Picture 3
Sponsor: Silent One
Dear Barcelona
Bride of Spain
Mourn not precious jewel
For we are praying for you
We are praying for your children
That they may find favour in heaven.
Sea feliz!
To spite the devil's tricks
And make farse of his knavery
That you may find peace with the enemy
So their souls can be made pure and right
Mysterious Barcelona
Try not to make sense of this
For only the creator knows why,
Rise like the Spanish rose in the face of rain and sun
Remain in your unmoved dazzle.
Inspired by live event
on Ramblas Boulevard, Barcelona
Barcelona… Summer raining night…
Gentle shower sprinkles down the faces.
In the whole world the only light:
It comes straight to me from Spanish Artist spaces.
He is so much tired of hard work.
He would take a nap in cozy house
And exchange soft brush to metal fork,
But he’s painting me in blue silk blouse.
He is sketching portraits day by day,
Everything he sees - it’s his addiction.
People walking, watching, by the way,
Making stories of his talent’s fiction.
Someone is just simply passing through,
Floating like a shadow by his chair.
Someone is composing a review:
Model and his work to be compared.
He is living in his special world,
There is no path to his possession.
There are no idols, money, gold,
All his movements followed by compassion.
He is calm and shy, not recognized,
Taking masks away from people faces.
All his life, the strangers realize,
Puzzled on the easel of oil laces.
People singing, swinging in the dance.
Sounds of music made by Jazz musicians.
Taro cards predict you nice romance,
All you need - just simple recognition.
You can see so much of magic blast
At this time on Ramblas Boulevard raining.
It’s your future, present, it’s your past
And it will be in your heart remaining.
You are running off the horse’s coach
And your soul comes extremely tender.
You can be so easily approached,
You don’t mind becoming a surrender.
Barcelona… Sunday raining night…
So much noise from each and every chartist.
There is no one in the evening light:
Only Me and Special Spanish Artist…
Refrain:
Barcelona, Barcelona – you are beautiful Madonna.
You are crystal constellation, you are my imagination.
You will be with me forever, I will not forget you, never.
Barcelona, Barcelona, Barcelona…
Wrote in July 2006 in Russian
Translated into English in August 2008
Walking about las ramblas at night you can see the desperation with a constant feeling of trepidation
People that never got much of an education not one qualification
Prostitutes selling their body to feed a habit and pay for their accommodation as Dealers sell to addicts who want that pleasurable sensation to forget about their life situation
You can buy heroin or crack or if you want a combination while the police and big gangsters are actually in communication giving them money so they don't launch a single criminal investigation so they can smoothly run their operation and there is no threat to their illegal money making organisation
You can even see people sleeping on the ground that had left their home nation in search of a better life but only found poverty and social devastation
Another terrorist atrocity has happened again
This time it was Barcelona and that my friends is Spain
My heart felt love goes to those affected
These terrorists need found and dejected
Stay alert everyone they may strike anywhere
Be vigilant and stay aware
They have hit London and Paris
They call themselves ISIS
They have tried to install fear to us all
But their the only ones who will fall
They will not win their religious fight
Peace and tranquillity that’s what’s right
There tactics have been very similar
Killing, hurting with a van or a car
Driving at speed in built up areas
Targeting innocent bystanders
These people really are cowardly
I just wish that they would see
They have been totally brain washed
Reasons and thoughts turned to slosh
Sending healing thoughts to all people there
From the western world we really care
The terrorist should be behind a large fence
For indiscriminate acts of murder and violence
You are the scurvy of this earth
Your radical beliefs buried under turf
You can not see that you won’t win
What you do is a really a Sin
So ISIS we won’t take it anymore
Face up to facts you’ve lost your war
Go back home and leave our shores
Violence and murder we don’t adore
On a bright broad beach near Barcelona
Where I was feeling so all alone-a
A glorious vision strode into view.
Like Rubirosa, I knew what to do.
I charmed this woman from Segovia,
A fair descendant of the great El Cid.
Her radiant eyes and shimmering hair
Caused many a wag to stammer and stare.
She charged my cardiovascular pump
But in Madrid she tossed me on the dump.
Like a cop she caused cardiac arrest
As my collapsed knees can truly attest.
As I lay in my bed about half dead
This fair lady came with a smile like lead,
Making me feel old and filled with deep dread,
She offered farewell with the words she said,
“You poor lost puppy here is a new leash
For some silly maid to have and to hold.
I must confess I am quite over ya
I’m leaving Madrid for Segovia.”
Sagrada Familia in Barcelona,Catalonia, Spain
began construction in 1882 AD but strain
of wars and life was an energy drain
Still under construction
City's holy structure will gain
people's approbation
Still heat. The dust in the gutters
is dry. A droning fly
can be heard through the shutters.
Ruined walls. Rubble. Sun-cracked plaster.
Afternoon, and nothing stirs.
Things should be moving faster.
Some streets away, a gun stutters, then stills.
So, they persist in killing each other,
blind to the evil, massing in the hills.
The poets and plumbers are kings for a day.
All they do is bicker, while
the chance is slipping away.
No bombs have fallen for days. The climax is coming.
A car screams past, daubed with crude letters, and is gone.
The fly continues its monotonous humming.
You are badly mistaken, because
you think you've converted the people.
The enemy is inside your defences. He always was.
He's not dead, or cowed, or beaten, though
you thought you'd rid yourselves of him.
Oh, no. He's still here. He's just lying low.
When he cheered you, he was lying.
He'll just lurk in half-dark rooms
till palace flags are once more flying.
Revolution? Workers presiding?
Afraid not. The "others" haven't defected or fled.
They're in the shadows. Waiting. Hiding.
Barricades bristle. Garbage clutters.
Infection festers in neglected corners.
The fly drones on behind the shutters.
Another flag on the profile page,
Not much really to express the rage;
Mounting tallies of innocent dead,
Fill our hearts with increasing dread;
Cars now used as terrorist tools,
Be they foreign or domestic fools;
As these attacks begin to swell,
Know there’s a special place in hell.
Confirmed Dead
Bullet to the Head
Barcelona
Oh, beautiful Spain, a home to
Two grounds so grand
That humiliate and entertain
Every football fan across the land.
A home to Real Madrid
A club where dreams are made
Where wonderful talents are bred
And European dominance is displayed.
On the shores of Spain's seas
Lies another giant, Barcelona
A home to one of the game's greatest
A team a football lover can hardly detest.
The wonders of Spain, Real Madrid & Barcelona
Beautiful monsters in the world of football
A menace to every opponent
Yet an irresistible spectacle to every fan.
This night match was between
EGO and ELITE;
INFLUENCE and AFFLUENCE,
TEEM and TEAM.
Like you know it happened.
May be you don't believe it;
No much treat though, much heat
As hissing sounds turned up into peaceful turbulence.
Bayern Munich, calm down!
It hasn't been up to this.
Barcelona lives matter!
Check on a hardened fan.
Save a live, save many more.
Doing it in turns will be great.
As you check up on one;
And I check up on another,
We have wonder to spread
With the little touch of care
To bring dulling cheers out of ban
But the truth must be told...
Barcelona shocked me o!
E shocked meeeeeeeeeee
Beyond having mercy,
Bayern hacked Messi:
His legs aren't different,
Holding logistics are dejected.
Where dedication is highly spirited.
Wow! Danger is honored strategically.
What a bombshell!
Oooooin, you did well.
Been two years though
M-y friend will be missed
I-n beautiful Barcelona;
C-urrent town is Daet,
H-ome of sweetest aura.
E-n route to Spain in Europe,
L-et me remember her birth;
L-et me fly aboard a plane,
E-njoying a million mirth.
B-acacay is her residence,
A-lbay is the province;
R-eminiscing every joy
C-reated by alluring ambience.
E-very twenty-first of May,
N-othing to feel but euphoria;
A-s she stays in the Philippines,
S-he'll be missed in Barcelona.
It was a Christmas holiday in Spain,
A lad walked up to me on a train,
He asked if I knew him,
I had taught him how to swim,
Too much water had caused him an eyestrain.
November 20, 2022.
howmanysyllables.com
rhymezone.com