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When things are done in a hurry

is 5 minutes to deliver papers CELARG contest to enter the poetry workshop teacher William Osuna. But I needed a poem, a thing rare, leaving everything to the last minute. If I continue, I think that my life and my career will always depend on those 5 minutes.

here is the poem in question and a bonus track that I completed last night

My rave about the song I always wanted


a song that has to do with God
With Voiceover
that I hear when the wind blows I have always looked


tie that binds me to Mr. With that being superior

that appears in the Chimborazo

Ay, religion naked! Elusive kingdom without a temple

you water your soul and your example
between Neruda lyrics


eternal Cimarron

500 years have passed, black
500 years in vain
500 years of hatred
500 years of tears

Today , there are still vestiges of those hellish

memories still sound
chains of all slave ships

The white devil has crossed all the doors

time and still believes owning
with all your soul and your body

And not fear me, black, fear not
Because this demon has been spotted only albino

my skin when I went through his hell

Run savannah savannah black runs
free
Chango and Elegguá
you take care of you, eternal bighorn

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The black eagle

So many storms hit our America; but it is the black eagle aztado who has more strength, especially in the last 100 years. That's why I could not stop writing this: Black Eagle



There's a pain in my country
There is pain in your tears
springing from a seed planted by the dismay
black eagle cry bitter


fields for all your feathers absent men
and splinters of death
sang their anthem wicked Winged

hiding your true democracy gave birth

while the idiosyncrasies
matabas your grasp of freedom

In this double morality and worship your monuments
screwed us with the story
of tradition, family and property

From the Andes comes the breeze

Condor angry that horny back
background of a dream than a hundred years
to challenge death and deceit
black eagle flying in the trades


hear the echo of the Middle East and Sinbad
Scheherazade
caution to be taken and if the fight
my town listens
my body will follow its fate

senile empire trembles
Bolivar, soul and
oath that live in soil, water, wind
and even fire my gun

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wish to be Poet

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