Hello Muddah, hello Faddah,
I’m with Buddah, in Granada,
We had Christmas, in the Isthmus,
Where the misses for our kisses,
Can't resist us.
When my Buddah, wants asada,
He will never ask the mister for Posada,
If you order, enchilada,
He will belly dance for you,
And drink Horchata.
In His pleasance, for the peasants,
He will plead with Santa Claus for Christmas presents,
Rub His belly, make three wishes,
And you’ll never have to bathe,
Or wash the dishes.
If he’s hocking, Christmas stocking,
He will dress like Santa Claus to do the talking,
In the dharma, there’s no drama,
Like there is with His best friend,
The Smelly Llama.
For a long list, of Christmas-free friends,
Buddha likes to exercise by doing knee bends,
If we gotta, and we oughta,
Buddha meditates while dancing,
The Lambada.
Categories:
granada, christmas, humor,
Form: Rhyme
A period of peace
When peace reigned In the year 1334 or so the residents in Alhambra thought Catholics chimed too early on Sundays at the time, Granada was ruled by, The Muslims, who went along fine with the Christians, who were good farmers and makers of wine not to forget, the Jewish population ( people of the book) kept, the pecuniary, in shape it was agreed that the bells should not ring before seven, but the beautiful gardens behind tall walls
must be watered at five in the morning.
It was a peaceful time, but nothing in human history lasts forever; the Church of Rome had ambition, Muslims fled, and the Jews went into exile in Portugal and were shattered around the towns and villages and became a part of the general population
Categories:
granada, absence, anti bullying, august,
Form: Blank verse
When peace reigned
In the year 1334 or so
the residents in Alhambra thought Catholic
chimed too early on Sundays
at the time, Granada was ruled by, The Muslims that went along fine with the Christians, who were good farmers and makers of wine
Not to forget, the Jewish population ( people of the book) kept the pecuniary in shape
it was agreed that the bells should not ring before seven, but the beautiful gardens behind tall walls
must be watered at five in the morning.
It was a peaceful time, but nothing in human history lasts forever; the Church of Rome had ambition, Muslims fled, and the Jews went into exile in Portugal and were shattered around the towns and villages and became a part of the
general population
Categories:
granada, allah, angst, courage,
Form: Blank verse
The full moon shines
over Granada.
It lights up
the beauty
of The Alhambra,
and its amazing gardens.
A long time ago a palace,
where a sad prince
used to live.
Far from his beloved princess,
whose love
would never be allowed
because of
their different beliefs.
It is said that sometimes,
you can hear
the prince crying,
hidden somewhere
inside of the palace.
It is said that sometimes,
you still can see
those lovers
loving each other
under the moonlight,
in the stunning gardens
of The Alhambra.
There, where the years
seem to be stopped
with the youth
of the sad lovers,
whose souls live trapped
somewhere
in those enchanted gardens.
Categories:
granada, beauty, cute love, destiny,
Form: Free verse
Touched by God's light Born in Granada.
Federico used to presume
to be born beside the Alhambra.
Bright mind, deep heart, a soul to be admired.
Between lines, he used to be lost,
a pen was his best friend.
Dalí was a mate, both near from chilhood.
His friends were many,
but his real ones never too close.
He was a shadow facing the light,
but a light in the shades.
Federico was born in Granada,
his beloved land.
He projected his art with a pen,
nobody could understand.
Artist he was born, playing the piano
he used to play music for ears,
but at writing he used to be the best.
Born at a wrong time,
Lorca was misunderstood.
Difficult to understand how life mistreated it him.
Born as a poet that will never be forgotten.
Writing line to line, he was killed,
young as he was,
he had no time to write the best line of his life.
Federico García Lorca,
the one I will always bow for.
Categories:
granada, character, dedication, deep, devotion,
Form: Free verse
Poet I was born,
Granada is my land, I play, I live,
I disappeared, I stay with poets
Categories:
granada, allegory, bird, birth, blessing,
Form: Haiku
“Córdoba, lejana y sola”
– F.G.Lorca
The eyes of the women from Córdoba
are olive green
and steps are shadows,
but you are going to Cádiz,
where the wind recognizes
as its only our longest street.
The trumpet plays in storages and ships depart at dusk.
And in Gr?nada, the orange pickers,
pick tears.
In Córdoba, women wear long black dresses
and hide their lips,
but you are going to Cádiz,
where every mother is at the pier and the contrabass
plays in storages. And at dusk leave the boats.
And in Gr?nada, the orange pickers,
pick tears.
In Córdoba, time falls asleep behind grids and the sun slides on rocks.
And in Granada come evening shadows.
I won’t be travelling to Cádiz.
Categories:
granada, boat, love,
Form: Free verse
I miss you, beautiful Granada
Your snow-capped Sierra Nevada
Your fountains and sweet sparkling water
Your olive groves at the foot of Nevada
And orange trees all over Granada
Your history is like no other
The view of the splendid al Hambra
High up on the hill is preciosa
Your flamenco is more flamboyant than the lambada
Oh Granada, Granada
When will we meet again Granada!
Categories:
granada, arabic, mountains, romance, spanish,
Form: Light Verse
(The Torre Vela is a prominent castle tower
at the "prow" of the Alhambra Palace, and
dominates the Spanish city of Granada.)
My lame-ass lips can't even draw
McDonalds milkshake through a straw:
and if I must
run for the bus,
I take an oxygen inhaler.
You like your house? I rent a trailer.
But yell it through the loudest-hailer:
I kissed Leila!
Some lucky guy looks like George Clooney,
while I resemble Mickey Rooney.
I'm such a shmuck,
if vampires suck,
then call me Vlad the (Bad) Impaler!
I guard my dough? Like a drunken sailor.
But study this at Yale, or Baylor:
I kissed Leila!
I'll never win that Golden Globe
for lounging in a silken robe
like Errol Flynn,
appearing in
a bedroom scene with young Liz Taylor:
my books won't sell like Norman Mailer:
my jokes are rustier and staler
than ol' Jed Clampett's cotton baler:
I'm a no-mark, lamester, loser, failer.
But shout it from the Torre Vela:
I kissed Leila!
Categories:
granada, humorous,
Form: Rhyme
(Torre Vela = prominent tower, part of
the Alhambra palace, Granada, Spain)
My lame-ass lips can't even draw
McDonalds milkshake through a straw:
and if I must
run for the bus,
I take an oxygen inhaler.
You like your house? I rent a trailer.
But yell it through the loudest-hailer:
I kissed Leila!
Some lucky guy looks like George Clooney,
while I resemble Mickey Rooney.
I'm such a shmuck,
if vampires suck,
then call me Vlad the (Bad) Impaler!
I guard my dough? Like a drunken sailor.
But study this at Yale, or Baylor:
I kissed Leila!
I'll never win that Golden Globe
for lounging in a silken robe
like Errol Flynn,
appearing in
a bedroom scene with young Liz Taylor:
my books won't sell like Norman Mailer:
my jokes are rustier and staler
than ol' Jed Clampett's cotton baler:
I'm a no-mark, lamester, loser, failer.
But shout it from the Torre Vela:
I kissed Leila!
Categories:
granada, humorous,
Form: Rhyme
Parted by the cobbled stones
colonial brick patterned high,
baby boomer's and fragile bones
strolling under a watchful eye.
The dizziness continues to bustle
joined by beggars and thieves,
marveling at the persistent hustle
as the sun is setting to leave.
Cultures meet on the la Calzada
feet tapping to the drumming beat
scouring down an enchilada
escaping and lounging off their feet.
Shadows form and dimly lit,
pestered by hand carved craft,
horses chomping on their bit
slightest breeze provides a welcoming draft.
Soaring temperatures start to subside,
as people continue to stare,
the small procession of a blushing bride
her hopes for a future, laid bare.
(A Friday night under a cresent moon on La Calzada, Granada, Nicaragua)
Categories:
granada, places
Form: Monorhyme